Lauren Milici - Final Girl / Emily O'Neill - You Can't Pick Your Genre (Preorder)
Lauren Milici - Final Girl / Emily O'Neill - You Can't Pick Your Genre (Preorder)
Second Print Run: Orders Open Until Tuesday, July 6th at Midnight EST
92 Pages
5.8″ x 8.3″
Limited Edition
Ship date: Monday, August 2nd, 2021
Penned by two of America’s most exciting young poets, Lauren Milici’s Final Girl and Emily O’Neill’s You Can’t Pick Your Genre both reinvent devices and tropes frequently found in horror/thriller movies to tell stories of love, trauma, and recovery. A tribute to the longstanding tradition of Horror Movie double features that so many single-screen movie theaters made famous, Big Lucks is proud to present these two brilliant manuscripts together as a single-bound limited edition do-si-do.
FINAL GIRL by Lauren Milici
GIVE ME. I WANT TO BE MISSED
Final Girl by Lauren Milici
ISBN: 978-1-941985-50-2
40 Pages
5.8" x 8.3"
First Edition
From Nancy Thompson to Sidney Prescott, horror movies have used the “final girl” trope to tell survival stories that center the violent tendencies of men. But in Lauren Milici’s debut chapbook, Final Girl upends the narrative devices associated with the formulaic archetype and subverts them: the speakers wield their vulnerability as armor (I can’t/be trusted to kiss without biting”) & modes of survival against sexual assault, trauma, and body dysmorphia. These scathing poems build upon the tenants of confessional and synthesize them with modern horror metaphor, inventing a new feminist paradigm for our time. The result is a cutting collection that is as much a triumph as it is a terror: “I have always crawled home with split lips & skin. I have bled more than this.“
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YOU CAN’T PICK YOUR GENRE by Emily O’Neill
IF YOU THINK MOVIES MAKE PSYCHOS MORE CREATIVE, YOU’RE CORRECT
ISBN: 978-1-941985-51-9
44 Pages
5.8" x 8.3"
Second Edition
The poems in Emily O'Neill's You Can't Pick Your Genre endure. They riot. These poems are shining echoes from the Scream film series, but they are also warnings, testimonials, declarations. Emily O'Neill tells us, "Watch how practiced / you are, letting him practice desire on your disinterest." O'Neill re-renders the split-open bodies of women in horror films as testimonials of survival. Each poem is a reclamation, a rebirth, pulling the audience through the horror of how it feels to be acted upon as an object at a story's center. Each howling voice tells the reader, I am still here and I can never be killed.
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