My life goes through bursts of hauntings by Dead Dead Girls. When it first released in 2021, a flurry of reviews celebrated the publication, Black History Month brought a second summoning, and Book Riot toted the novel during Halloween and the sequel’s release. Then my library got in on it, with multiple displays featuring Dead Dead Girls as a centerpiece. Afia’s novel has been coming for me.

After a turbulent childhood, Louise Lloyd worked tooth and nail to establish a steady, enjoyable adulthood. She waitresses during the day, dances the night away with her girlfriend, and enjoys lazy weekends at their all women boarding house. Her precious, hard-won world is shattered one night when the police raid her favorite speakeasy, and she’s hauled in. The head detective presents her with a choice: go to jail; or help him investigate a serial killer who targets black women like Louise. As she interviews, snoops, and sneaks, Louise slowly realizes that justice is only going to come if she confronts her thorny past.

Afia’s novel is not for the faint of heart. I don’t mean in the traditional sense that there’s lots of gore or violence. No, no, the real weight comes from Afia’s unflinching realism in her depiction of racism, sexism, and homophobia. I’ve lived through intense violence in my neighborhoods, and it was hard to witness Louise’s people grieve. Fiction is usually reality’s fun house mirror, but Harlem’s experience became overwhelmingly real for me. I took breaks. Though the story is set in 1926, too little has changed. At one point, Louise ponders if she likes detective work and I laughed because literally every part of the process makes her (and me, by extension) miserable.

My heartache is a testament to Afia’s strong writing. Using simple language, Afia sucked me into Louise’s world so easily and smoothly it became my own.  At times bleak, at times hopeful, Dead Dead Girls is a great book. Gear up for some anguish