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Naomi Westerman

Happy Death Club

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Playwright Naomi Westerman was an anthropology grad student studying death rituals around the world when her whole family died, turning death from the academic to the deeply personal. She struggled with grief and talking about, particularly as a young woman, realising while death is everywhere in our culture, grief is harder to find in specialist ways.

This Inkling combines academic study with memoir to discuss the popularity of murder as entertainment in true crime podcasts; women working in the death industry; Naomi's love of horror and what it's like writing horror movies for a living when your mum was maybe murdered; the rise of death peer support groups; and death rituals in other countries. Happy Death Club provides a frank, touching and sometimes hilarious look at death, grief, and bereavement.
This book is currently unavailable
90 printed pages
Copyright owner
Bookwire
Original publication
2024
Publication year
2024
Have you already read it? How did you like it?
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Impressions

  • i.shared an impression6 months ago
    👍Worth reading
    😄LOLZ

  • Nyamhvv Munhtsetsegshared an impressionlast year
    👍Worth reading

  • ElGato202shared an impressionlast year
    👍Worth reading
    💩Utter Crap
    💀Spooky
    🙈Lost On Me
    🔮Hidden Depths
    💡Learnt A Lot
    🎯Worthwhile
    💞Loved Up
    🌴Beach Bag Book
    🚀Unputdownable
    😄LOLZ
    💤Borrrriiinnng!
    🐼Fluffy
    💧Soppy

Quotes

  • Sol Ríoshas quoted8 days ago
    I don’t notice that my face is wet until I start screaming and I don’t know why.
  • Sol Ríoshas quoted8 days ago
    I google ‘Sylvia Plath Blackberrying meaning’: ‘Throughout this poem, the poet engages with the theme of the inevitability of death and nature.’ Touché, poemanalysis.com. Maybe Sylvia just really fucking loved blackberries?
  • Sol Ríoshas quoted18 days ago
    I always felt, even before I experienced bereavement, that my emotions were too big, too loud, too colourful to really be socially acceptable. The heightened emotion and, yes, craziness of horror
    allows me for a brief time to feel that the enormity of my emotions isn’t out of sync with the whole world, that I am not alone, that women are allowed to scream and get scared, get angry, be ugly, be LOUD. To do whatever it takes to survive.

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