Kerry Cullen’s House of Beth is a haunting and deeply introspective novel that toes the line between literary fiction and horror. From the first page, we’re thrust into the chaotic, intrusive mind of Cassie, a woman whose harm OCD leaves her questioning her very existence. She’s anxious, sarcastic, and darkly funny, her inner world a relentless loop of self-doubt and dread. Her relationship with Lavender is collateral damage in her battle with her own brain—Cassie breaks up with her to protect her, convinced she’s capable of unimaginable harm. But the thing that truly unravels Cassie is the moment she walks into work and finds her boss unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Her first thought: I did this.

Fleeing back to New Jersey, Cassie reconnects with Eli, her former best friend whose love for her once fractured their friendship. But Eli isn’t the same either—his wife, Beth, died six months ago, and he’s drowning in his own grief. A drunken reunion leads to a whirlwind relationship, culminating in a marriage that feels more like an escape route than a love story. Cassie convinces herself that if she follows the script of heteronormativity, she might finally silence the intrusive thoughts clawing at her mind. Instead, she finds herself in a house still haunted by Beth—literally.

Beth’s voice enters the narrative as she pieces together her own fragmented memories from the afterlife. She longs to be heard, to make sense of the life she left behind, and—most importantly—to be recognized beyond the roles she was forced into. As Beth takes up residence in Cassie’s consciousness, their relationship grows into something raw, defiant, and deeply affirming. Beth understands Cassie in a way no one else does, especially as Cassie unravels her own queerness and the suffocating constraints of domesticity. Their bond culminates in Cassie’s final act of solidarity

: leaving Eli, not just for herself, but for Beth too

.

Cullen’s prose is both sharp and lyrical, suffused with a biting wit that makes even the heaviest moments feel electric. The novel’s exploration of harm OCD is unflinchingly honest, giving voice to a struggle rarely depicted with such nuance. House of Beth is a deeply unsettling, deeply beautiful novel about queerness, autonomy, and the ghosts—both literal and figurative—that shape us. It lingers like an afterimage, a whisper that refuses to fade. Kerry Cullen is certainly one to watch out for.

📖 Read this if you love: dark, introspective character studies; unflinching portrayals of mental illness; themes of girlhood, desire, and self-destruction; and books by Carmen Maria Machado.

🔑 Key Themes: Harm OCD and Morality, Girlhood and Shame, Familial Abandonment and Self-Worth, Love as Consumption and Escape.