Alice, Ila, and Hanna were supposed to enjoy their last year of university. Of course, they made all the promises to stay close even after graduating, but each of them knew that was unlikely to happen. To compensate, they decided to make the most of the remainder of the academic year, including daring themselves to spend the night in a supposedly haunted house. Alice liked the fact that trespassing might ostensibly draw attention to housing inequality. Ila was less sure of spending any time there; she knew the lore about the house and won a game of chicken years ago by daring to actually touch the abandoned front door. The memory of the house still unsettled her, and when the girls arrived, all of them just felt like there was something off about the house. And Hannah, well, she just wanted the approval, the notice of her two best friends.

Three girls went into the house, but only two left, and what happened there changed Alice and Ila forever. The casual romance the pair had is irreparably broken, the trust required to be intimate with one another utterly destroyed. Both of them have tried to have as little to do with one another as possible, to not think about that night or that house. But that is easier said than done. Alice is haunted, sometimes literally, by a poster in her room. The image of a now-spent pop star will sometimes creep out of the paper, its mere presence a threat that can only be mitigated if Alice is completely still and silent. In contrast, Ila falls in with a group of activists who validate all her newly discovered loathsome feelings towards transgender women like Alice. Ila should be safe among fellow TERFS, yet the public image she’s built up threatens to come crashing down when someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer accuses Ila of attacking her. And through it all, Alice and Ila can never forget the fear, the horror of what happened in the house. Eventually, they realize the only way to deal with their broken emotions is to return.

Tell Me I’m Worthless is a literary-like novel from Alice Rumsfitt. Set in present day England, it touches on several social issues: being transgender, anti-trans sentiment, antisemitism, perceived and actual sexual assault, body dysphoria, obsession, and more. The story is mostly chronological, but it’s shot through with strong passages that connect to the history of the house and a pivotal chapter from Hannah’s perspective about the night the three girls went to the house. The first chunk of the book is in the present day and is dedicated to showing Alice and Ila’s individual lives as they currently are. Alice seems to be a casual drug user; it’s what helps her cope with existing among other people. She has a new group she favors spending time with (when she feels like spending time with anyone), though it’s ambiguous as to how deep these ties actually are. Personally, I liked Alice. And since she’s the first narrator we have who tells snippets of her version of what happened in the house, I just assumed that was how it was. Until we switch to Ila’s perspective.

Ila was a lot less likable to me than Alice because of her (new found or newly acknowledged) anti-trans beliefs. It’s hard to say if she redeemed herself in the story (more on that later), but I never noticed Ila misgendering Alice, and Ila and Alice eventually try to bury the hatchet in an attempt to overcome the trauma from that night they spent in the house. Outside of her relationship to Alice, Ila is shown to struggle with body image. And when Ila finally gets to narrate, it becomes clear that she clearly remembers what happened in the house very differently than Alice. But being second to reveal her experience of things wasn’t quite enough to balance the scales out. I was eager, though, to get to the part where we as readers actually go back in time to experience what befell the three girls that night in the house. And for what it’s worth, I really liked that that night was narrated by Hannah.

For a big part of the book, I was expecting Alice and Ila to reconcile. If not as lovers, then at least as friends who could be free of the guilt and trauma of what happened in the house. That said, the events in the story and Alice and Ila’s thoughts on one another don’t really end up supporting that idea. That left me a bit at loose ends about where the characters were going. At least, until we learn that they both feel a kind of pull towards the house. For me, the story really reaches a head when Alice and Ila finally go back. It’s here that the readers also hear from Hannah in a chapter told out of chronological order. So far, so good. But the wrap up after the MCs confront their fear of the house AT the house left me wondering where things were headed. Then, a new, unrelated character gets introduced and serves as narrator. I thought it was jarring to have the perspective shift so completely to this seemingly new character, even as this character clearly embodies all the evil inherent in the house. Then there is a major event that just felt like it came out of left field for me. I appreciate that not all stories have happy endings, or that happy endings get cut short. But given the intense focus on Alice and Ila as narrators, switching to an unknown person and throwing all the eggs into “evil house continues to be evil and cause harm” basket just wasn’t very satisfying for me.

Overall, I mostly enjoyed the multiple perspectives this book offers. Even though I wasn’t a fan of Ila as a character, I liked having such an intimate look at Ila’s experiences. That gave some insight into what drove her to act as she did. The evil house as an instigator of action was also well done, I thought. The two MC’s narration was occasionally broken up with narration from the house itself, explaining its own history and going on at length about concepts of where hate, fascism, and so on come from. That said, I had a hard time getting into the story and the ending really just threw me for an unenjoyable loop. I think fans of more literary works, less structured and more meaty in terms of “makes you think” material will enjoy this. Readers who enjoy unpolished characters who act and react in relatable and sometimes horrible ways will also enjoy this. Just be aware that the through-lines on this story aren’t the typical “will they/won’t they get back together” in romances or “will they/won’t they survive” in horror stories.

Tell Me I’m Worthless is an astonishingly confident, powerful, deeply dark horror novel about self-identity, trauma, and what feels like the inevitability of the world’s growing fascism.

On the surface, this is the story of three women who went into a haunted house, and the two women who came out. Alice is a transwoman who seems to hate herself, and Ila is a TERF who seems to hate the world. The House is deeply evil.

Reading Alison Rumfitt’s debut novel is an experience: it’s difficult, because it’s brimming with so much intelligence and compassion for its characters, while using slurs (and self-hatred) and violence (including sexual violence and self-harm) authentically to bludgeon, disgust, and break down the reader. The book is vicious, weird, experimental and constantly surprising.

At times I had to put it down and just breathe for a bit, but I also completely enjoyed reading it — just for the pleasure of how well Rumfitt could put me into another person’s head, and the way she used language.

Is it strange that I found this book also a bit hopeful?  That’s something I haven’t seen in reviews, but for me it was there.

I recommend this for folks who love dark, literary social horror that plays with form and has something to say, and for horror readers who are interested in the trans experience.  Please check out the content warnings on this book first: it’s a rough one.

Thank you to NetGalley and Tor Nightfire for my review copy of this book.

Wow. This book was incredibly intense, and the trigger warnings presented at the beginning are no joke and should be taken very seriously. The writing style was rushed and almost breathless during the more intense parts, which really fit the tone of the story.

This story will not be for everyone, and that is okay. But this story is a very good look at radicalization, especially as it pertains to online spaces, vulnerable people, and the United Kingdom. Both Ila and Alice are marginalized women with intersections of oppressions, and they are made victim and oppressor by the right wing pipeline and facism infecting their hearts and minds. Truly, the point and message of this story is that facism does that to everyone- it will use you for any marginalization you have while still making a victim of you before spitting you back out to infect others with your hate and gruesome beliefs.

This book was hard to read, not because of the writing style, but because of the content and how true it is to real life, especially as someone involved in online spaces.

Tell Me I'm Worthless is a fantastic queer horror that explores themes of fascism, anti-trans violence and misogyny, the haunting effects of sexual violence, and the far-reaching influence of a sinister haunted house. The content of this story is not for the faint of heart, but it is a successfully horrific and chilling journey through the insidious nature of violent rhetoric. The audiobooks is particularly effective in this regard, with the narrator delivering the scenes of these ideas with a perfect blend of hypnotic monotony, gluttonous disgust, and underlying attraction. If you are a fan of horror with current and relevant social themes, I highly recommend this book, and I will definitely keep my eye out for future works by this author.

This book’s storyline ended up not being what I expected and the synopsis did not prepare me for what I was about to read. The first few chapters though – basically the beginning of the book – pulls you into the story. It’s compelling and intriguing, you want to know where the rest of the story leads to. One of the mc’s is trans, one is lesbian, and I just loved the LGBTQ+ representation and the fact that they were the main characters. You learn about the haunted, abandoned House and events that could’ve, might’ve happened in that house.

..And then it goes downhill from there.

I loved the first part of the book. I was invested in the story, but then things started getting very sexual, graphic, homophobic/transphobic, and political. And I just wasn’t a big fan of that. I’m one for dark, disturbing and gore-y reads, but this was all those things in an unexpected, deeper way. The book then also turned into a slow burn and honestly, that’s when I should’ve dnf’ed this.

I believe there are people who are able to see the beauty of this story and read between the lines and identify the message that the author was attempting to give. But truly, I thought I was going to read a book about a haunted house. In a way I did, but this one was darker and more complex.

‼️Please check trigger warnings. There are a bunch.

Thank you to @netgalley for the advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

Definitely make sure to check content warnings for this book, there are triggering topics that may make it difficult for some readers to enjoy reading this book. I personally really enjoyed this book. I thought it was a unique story that didn't flinch away from hard to discuss subjects. I went into it expecting a horror book and came out of it understanding that it was a multi-layered story meant to encourage consideration and introspection about some of society's hardest and darkest subjects. I will definitely be reading more books by this author.

3.5 star read. Powerful engaging read. Thought provoking and triggering. Yet, I learned so much and had my eyes open. The writing just flows. You feel for the characters, you're invested in their situations, and you want a positive outcome. You just want them safe and well. This was an emotional, but satisfying read. My first read by this author and I'm looking forward to the next book.

#TellMeI'mWorthless# #AlisonRumfitt#

At its core, this book is a haunted house story. Alice, Ila, and Hannah — three best friends — went into an abandoned house, hoping to have an adventure, and only two of them came back out. In the aftermath, no longer friends, those two have wildly differing stories about what happened there, and the house is calling them back. TELL ME I’M WORTHLESS is, also, a book about fascism. It’s very clear about that from the outset, and its forthrightness makes the horror aspects of the book both easier to read and less impactful.

This was a bit of a mixed bag for me, hence the rating. There were aspects of the story and the plot which I found genuinely horrifying (the Hannah chapter!) and which I thought were very, very well done, but some fell a little more flat; some parts, I think, could have been left out entirely without doing much damage to the story. The ending was … well, let’s just go with “I’m not convinced.” And at the end of the day, I think Rumfitt has the skill to pull this off with a little more nuance; letting us as readers reach an understanding of her themes without smacking us in the face with them.

All in all: though I didn’t love everything about it, I think this is worth the read, and I look forward to seeing what Alison Rumfitt writes next. (And as always, it’s horror, so check TWs; I can assure you there are plenty!) Thank you so much to Tor Nightfire and Netgalley for the early review copy!

I was not surprised when I got to the end of Tell Me I’m Worthless and found out the author is a poet. It almost reads like a novel in verse. I wish I had approached it that way, honestly, because I think it would have improved my experience.

This is a book that does what it sets out to do really well and I am just fundamentally not the audience for it. I am really glad that this book exists and I’m glad that I read it but the experience wasn’t exactly what I would call pleasant. It’s a book about how fascism is a haunted house and how it makes ghoulish villains and traumatized victims of us all.

It’s a very intense reading experience—pay attention to the trigger warnings at the beginning because the author is telling the truth. Because of the intense and poetic language it feels like taking whole spoonfuls of that sour powder that comes with those lollipops you get as a child. This book made me deeply uncomfortable and it was probably a good thing for me to read. But I can’t quite say I enjoyed it.

I think I was expecting something a little closer to a traditional haunted house book. I wasn’t the target audience but I hope this book finds its people, because it’s an important story and there are people who need to hear it. If you’re down for a more intense, all grown up, antifa Haunting of Hill House, and you don’t mind some very graphic and upsetting sexual content, and love words that move like a rhythm and beat like your own wounded heart--don’t miss Tell Me I’m Worthless.

I was provided an advance reader copy in exchange for this honest review.

Tell Me I'm Worthless is ostensibly the Haunting of Hill House in the era of Reddit, fascism, and the culture wars, a haunted house story focusing on three separate human viewpoints, plus the House itself (called Albion, an on-the-nose metaphor if there ever was one).

Pros:
- One of the main characters has a Smiths poster on their wall, and is visited by Morrissey, who emerges from said poster nightly to perform a haunting. Yes, this is real.
- The prose is strong, and it's unsettling in a graphic, hyper-sexualized way (list of triggers provided before the first page).

Cons:
- For anyone who spends any amount of time online, or indeed any amount of time paying attention to this divided world, this simply may be overwhelming. It reads at times like a manifesto from the terminally online, and for me the horror of the story was completely lost amidst the long paragraphs that sounded straight from a reddit thread from r/latestagecapitalism.
- Perhaps this is more of a me thing, but I was often confused which character I was reading from the perspective of, as they sounded very similar in tone.

Two stars. This is simply exhausting to read in a world that is just exhausting enough already.

FFO: Reddit, Morrissey but "just the music", the opening paragraph of Haunting of Hill House repeated over and over.

**I was given a copy of this book by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks to Tor and Netgalley*

Trigger warnings for literally everything. The haunted house aspect was original and unnerving, but the narrative style kept me at arms length. I appreciate what the story was doing and always love to see trans ownvoices representation in horror, this just simply wasn’t the book for me.

Dark and gruesome story--part interpersonal drama, part haunted house. Unfortunately I found the prose really grueling and dense to read.

Wow. This book was alot. I enjoyed reading it, however this is not a book for everyone! There are a few dark topics that many may not want to read. I enjoyed learning about Alice's life and look forward to getting a physical copy of this one!

3.5/5!

Tell Me I’m Worthless is probably one of the most unique haunted house stories I have ever read. There were times where I felt like I had stepped straight into a fever dream, which I mean in a very positive way! Rumfitt has a brilliant writing quality that just sucks readers in and it didn’t matter if I was confused or creeped out or uncomfortable because I couldn’t stop reading.

The horror is very real and visceral in this story, but Rumfitt stretches beyond that and includes a lot of very important social commentary on serious subjects, as well as nods to the way people can be haunted by the ghosts of their past. Rumfitt largely unpacks these issues through the voices of Alice and Ila, but also reaches into alternate narrators to drive the plot forward. The timeline is also very important in this story, as Rumfitt takes us from present to past and then forward. If you’re looking for something unique in the horror genre, this book certainly hits that mark!

TW: This book contains a lot of triggering subjects, so please be sure to check Storygraph for a list.

A huge thank you to Tor Nightfire for my gifted copy!

Alice, Ila, and Hannah decide to break into a house, but only two of them come back out. Three years later, they return to try to piece together what happened that night.

Tell Me I'm Worthless covers both a haunted house and real-life issues. Alice is a trans woman, and Ila is queer and from an immigrant family. Both were left damaged after their time in the house.

I was excited to read about the trans experience through horror. However, I felt this book was a lot, and I really wanted to love it more than I did.

I loved the parts where we were inside the house and the chapter from Hannah's point of view inside the house. But I wanted more of the house.

Overall, I feel this book covered some important issues, but I just didn't love it. I will try this author again.

This book releases January 17, 2023. Thank you Tor Nightfire and Netgalley for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Tell Me I'm Worthless gave me a bit of The Mixed Feelings™. There were some definite positives, but also some stuff I struggled with. So let's get to it!

What I Loved:

►I certainly appreciated the social commentary. Obviously, this is a huge plus, and incredibly important, too. It is also really thought provoking, in that it almost flat out asks the reader some questions that absolutely made me stop and think. Of course there are parts that will make the reader so, so angry at how society treats trans folks, and that is clearly important. It was also not lost on me that this is an ownvoices story, and that amped up my feelings, no question, to know that the author had based this on her own experiences.

►I also appreciated how complex the characters' stories were. As Abby Griffin said, "maybe there are no 'good guys'", and that is how this story feels. They are obviously trying to deal with a lot of stuff here, and probably are not always going about any of it in the best of ways, but that is part of being human, right?

What I Struggled With:

►I was high key confused a lot. Not just with what was happening in terms of the plot, but like... a lot of references went over my head. Like, maybe I am showing my age, but some stuff I just had no idea with. Like sometimes I thought it was a drug reference, or an internet/social media reference, or a sexual reference, but I didn't know and didn't really want to search for it because yeah. So I would just kind of make up my own (likely far more mild) substitution and move along. That said, there were points during the story that I was also more generally just like "hold on what exactly is happening?" but not in the fun way where you are excited about what comes next, in the just general being lost way.

►The characters felt kind of... distant? It wasn't that I didn't like them- as mentioned above, I did really enjoy how complex their stories were. I just didn't feel like I knew them all that well. Sort of like yes, I had the basics, the facts, the background, but I didn't feel their plights as I had hoped. Sometimes that can be okay in horror, depending. In this case though, it's horror based on a very character driven plot, so it doesn't quite work without that connection.

►I just wanted to like this far more than I did. I have been really struggling with this review, because I want to find more that I enjoyed about the book. But the fact is, I struggled to pick it back up every time I put it down. The pacing seemed a bit inconsistent, and as much as I tried to be invested in the characters, I simply couldn't find myself feeling a ton- besides some rage toward society as a whole, which is obviously important, but also stated above.

Bottom Line: Super appreciate that this is a trans ownvoices horror novel, though the execution didn't completely work for me.

This was trash. Heavy handed, pandering, trying-too-hard-to-be-edgy trash. I found it poorly written, with a narrative style that was equally exhausting and exasperating. Seriously, if you weren't being gunned down with staccato bursts of sentence fragments, you were being drowned under paragraphs that had no end.

There wasn't a single likeable or relatable character to be found, and that lack of sympathy undermined any effectiveness of the social and political bludgeoning. It also didn't help that everyone was full of that ugliness, including the narrator, robbing it of any redemption or revenge. I hate read it through, waiting for that ah-ha moment where I could say it was all worth it, but it wasn't there.

I was so looking forward to this, and had heard good things from readers I trust, but I wonder if they just got caught up in the hype. It's trauma-porn dressed up as social commentary, except commentary usually has an argument to make.

DNF at 10%. I was really excited about this book, as it is written by a trans author, and I was really looking forward to reading about the trans experience through a horror story. However, the prose was not for me. While it is quite angry and cathartic, it did a lot of telling instead of showing, and it was hard to become immersed in the story. While I think this book may be helpful for those that currently in the process of catharsis of their own queer experience, it felt like there was a lot of info dumped on the reader, without showing what the author was trying to convey. Ultimately, this book was not for me.

When I hear "transgressive queer horror," my ears perk up. When I check reviews and see someone describe it as "too graphic and too political," I'm in even further. Tell Me I'm Worthless lived up to the hype. It was intense and maybe a little on the nose but pulled no punches. This is what we need in today's world. Highly recommended.

<b>"A ghost story is about the thing that it tells you it is about: a ghost, an ephemeral thing from beyond the grave, trying to contact the living. A haunted house story is about more than that. It is about structure, architecture, and history."</b>

<b>"In the mirror Ila can see that she is a haunted house... Her traumas sometimes come and peer out of the windows of her eyes."</b>

Paired together, these two passages showcase how Alison Rumfitt has woven a wholly original contribution to the "haunted house" sub-genre of horror. It's my favorite trope and yet I have never seen it explored so viscerally, with the human body as the architecture that becomes warped and damaged from the traumas it experiences. (Rumfitt also reinforces my belief that there's no horror more terrifying than fascism, but that's a think piece for another day.) Do not underestimate the trigger warnings at the beginning.

Rumfitt's use of a stream of consciousness writing style amplified the sense of panic experienced by the characters, but I will be totally honest that it also made it difficult for me to keep track of all that was happening and tell the real from the imaginary. In that sense, I think the book demands a second reading, and luckily, I'll be getting a physical copy in my February horror subscription.

Thanks to NetGalley for access to an eARC in exchange for my honest review.