NIGHTBITCH! As bizarre as promised and more! This was definitely the kind of book that I found myself thinking about even when I wasn’t reading it. Excellent in both theme and execution, this is definitely a book people are going to be talking about, not just for its quality but also its traffic-stopping premise. Whip-smart on everything from motherhood to artistic agency to emotional labor to essential oil multilevel marketing schemes. The “Good for her” book of 2021.

#Nightbitch
The book is nothing I have ever read before. I found the concept and the idea fascinating. It just felt odd for me at times. It was hard to related to from being a parent of a child with a disability to related to the nightbitch character. Overall, it is a very creative and interesting book.

CW: violence, animal violence
Thank you thank you @doubleday for this ARC - I am OBSESSED!
In the tradition of Kafka, Nightbitch follows our narrator’s lycanthropy from domesticated mother to absolutely feral. The mother loves her son and husband. Yes, she really really does! That is why she gave up her dream job in the arts to full-time mother her bratty son. Her husband makes more money in his 5 days per week travel job, so this choice was natural. And of course she loves her husband, I mean, they got married right? And he is a nice guy. They are happy. She is contained.
Until she is not. Nightbitch has you questioning whether her unadulterated violence is a hallmark of slipping out of her skin or growing into it? Is she losing control or finally gaining it back? Either way, Nightbitch is the embodiment of pure feminine rage - that mythic, red hot pulsing rage that started at the first rape and never stopped. The rage that resides in every femme paying the penance of womanhood.
Because in truth, when are femmes just allowed to be? To dream. To achieve? Whether we are working moms, forever single, full-time moms, never moms, or too young to be moms, we hold a coin that has a losing side. We sacrifice relentlessly, and modern feminism only makes martyrs out of our molehills. Our rage is our release, because we want what we want, and everytime we are told there are good women and there are wanting women. To me, Nightbitch, as graphic and violent and unpalatable as it is, was satisfying because it ached of accuracy.
Interestingly, I watched Promising Young Woman the same day that I finished Nightbitch, and found the two pieces in conversation with one another. I cannot stop thinking about either, tbh. Have you read this book or seen the movie? How do you feel about feral revenge and animalistic violence as metaphors (or not) for the rage we feel? As for myself, I am honestly here for it. When I think of the men who get away with rape, women who are bullied into silence, and disenfranchised from their lives, I feel Nightbitch-type rage. When I think of the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, I feel red hot rage. Perhaps this rage is a defense mechanism for sorrow, but I feel it from the pit of my heart.

Where to even begin. I'm a noted enjoyer of "weird" fiction, so I was thrilled to receive a copy of this book.

I was instantly gripped by the story of the unnamed narrator and her family, as we are trapped in her head along with her and experience the frustration and loneliness of her daily life, as she essentially single parents a toddler while her husband is gone all week for work. The mother has a masters in art and had to leave her dream job to care for her child, and constantly feels undervalued and alienated by her STEM minded husband and his dismissal of her worries of transforming into a beast. Consumed by the drudgery of her daily existence and the uncertainty of her transformation, she turns to the library for answers, and finds a mysterious book. This is where the novel really goes on a wild ride.

I tried to go back and see if I had written any notes to really explain how the book had captured me that this point, only to find that all I had written was repetition of the meme, "Are you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go ape shitt," which I'll admit sounds deeply stupid but really does encapsulate the visceral glee I experienced along with the mother in her transformation.

Though it is often wrapped in the vaguely absurd context of a mother transforming into a massive dog, there was honest and thoughtful reflection on modern motherhood and womanhood, ambition and rage.

The scene in which the mother is having lunch with her art school friends is absolutely my favorite moment of the entire novel, and one of my favorite things I've read in recent memory.

I don't want to say that the third part of the novel wasn't as good as the other two or that it was a letdown, but it is an abrupt change from the intensely claustrophobic stream of consciousness of the first two parts of the book. It does absolutely make sense within the narrative, especially with what happens at the end of the second act. I wasn't completely satisfied with how a few of the plot points were resolved (husband, the author), but the final scene is deeply cathartic and an excellent conclusion to a mystifying and gripping book.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a free eARC of this book in exchange for my honest review.

“This book was weird, even by my standards” that quote from a reviewer caught my eye, and I knew I needed to read this strange tale of a new mother who thinks she is turning into a dog. With descriptions of fur on her neck, extra nipples on her belly and running the streets at night naked, I asked myself many times, is she an actual dog out at night, or is it theoretical?
I think many a new mom can relate to the loneliness of motherhood when you are home,your husband is working on the road, and you feel you have no purpose beyond caring for your child. A former art career in the dust and leaving her aching for more, she finds solace in a strange field guide of wild women around the world she found at the library.
It was starting to feel a bit overplayed when things took a major shift at a very shocking turn of events. You’ll know it when you get there.
The oddness continues, but wraps into quite a beautiful ending that I felt at peace with. Not sure if I can say with utter confidence that this one will be a winner, or if I would recommend it to any of my reader friends. But one thing is for sure, fellow readers will definitely follow up with some very interesting conversations.

Thank you Netgalley and Doubleday Books for this advance readers copy!

This was the book I didn't know I needed. This tale takes us through the evolution of a new(ish) mother as she encounters, acknowledges, and accepts the transformation that happens when women become mothers. It's violent and tender, resentful and loving, hostile and miraculous. The vehicle Yoder uses is a delightful amalgamation of fairy tale, magic, and dream. It's also a brave novel, in that our protagonist admits things that new mothers often feel and think--but are conditioned to repress. And yet, our author manages to do this while still portraying the abs0lute love and wonder a woman can have for her child.

It's really a remarkable book. You'll get lost in the dream (sometimes the nightmare) of Nightbitch, but you also might discover it's a very familiar place to you.

I'm not even sure what to say here. This book is super weird and poignant and bloody and fantastic. I loved it, I want to buy a copy, I want to make all my friends read it. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.

Once calling herself Nightbitch as a joke, the unnamed mother in this novel officially dubs herself the title when she realizes she's transforming into a dog. Her husband is gone half the week on business trips, deserting her with their unruly two year old son. Nightbitch's inner turmoil-- fueled primarily by her husband's neglect and giving up her career for her family-- has been building, and relief only comes on the nights she can transform completely into her canine form, running naked under the stars and hunting creatures in the forest. Cathartic at times, Nightbitch is a bizarre, surreal, and ultimately feral novel that lights a fuse, igniting the rage and power that simmers under the skins of those who feel trapped-- much like an unconquerable animal finally breaking free from its confines.

Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder is a brilliant book. I've never seen the concepts from "Women who run with the Wolves" incorporated into a novel before (or perhaps I have but never this cleverly.) Yoder hits all the resonant points about motherhood--the feelings of neglect, being misunderstood by partners, the tedium, the grime.....all of it. The mother here is one we know--she is us, really; all modern mothers. She is complex, neglected by her spouse and herself, isolated. She is so well-drawn. She is so familiar.

I've read many novels about contemporary motherhood, but none as smart as this one. This satirical novel will make you cringe and howl. I loved it.

Completely surreal yet emotionally sincere, Nightbitch dives deep into the multifaceted under-appreciation and societal suppression of motherhood and womanhood, through a bespoke blend of punchy character study and shapeshifting folklore. Rachel Yoder articulates her narrative with a sharp balance of genre absurdism and honest commentary, without ever letting it be bogged down by needless gore or overt camp. Yes, while some of its plot threads were a little too easily explained away towards the end, Nightbitch remains an emotionally ferocious, fever dream-like reading journey that is completely worth experiencing.

Believe the hype! This novel is such a riot. I don't even know where to begin -- Yoder has rendered a story about motherhood and art through the plot of a suburban full-time mom afraid she's turning into a dog. It simply happens one day, and she slowly begins to unravel, and in this unraveling Yoder lets us into some gorgeous moments between the mother and her son. While the novel is often comical, there is more heart here than most lit-fic novels. This is a true achievement, and I look forward to seeing what Yoder does next.

In Nightbitch, Yoder perfectly and hilariously captures all of the anxiety, the monotony, the guilt, and the rage that encompasses new motherhood. A witty metaphor of modern motherhood, societal myths, gender norms, and biology that is both hysterical and painfully, embarrassingly relatable. A true literary achievement.

This is the Kafka-esque nightmare I've been looking for.

Nightbitch leaves her dream job in the arts, to take care of her son full time. At the beginning of the story, the boy is two and she's turning into a dog. Her husband dismisses her concerns and thinks she has it easy because she gets to be home all day while he travels every week for work. Things go to 100 from there. We're inside Nightbitch's head through the whole story and we feel every damn thing. It was almost claustrophobic. Even thinking about it now is making my heart rate go up.

Yes, it's about motherhood but it's also about all female stress, suffering and rage. The boredom and fatigue of staying home. Being undervalued and overlooked even after giving yourself, your ambitions, up. I'm not a mother, but I've had so many of these same thoughts run through me. I've been in conversations where I'm not included or ignored, not considered worthy.

Do all women have these thoughts, but we just don't tell each other (we're told to instead lean in)? Have we created some competition to grin and bear it and she who breaks first loses? But here Nightbitch wins. She realizes that "the work is the life. There isn't a distinction," This book is both fantastical and truthful; hilarious and devastating.

Rachel Yoder's Nightbitch is a speculative delight grounded in the mundane realities of caregiving. Keenly observed in unflinching detail, down to the intricacies of multi-level marketing schemes, the novel rings true to my own experience of modern motherhood, though to my knowledge I have never transformed into a dog (hope not, I'm allergic).

The story is wholly original, and very much in conversation with other recent books that explore similar themes. As I tore through it, I felt echoes of the "art monster" from Jenny Offill's Dept. of Speculation and a touch of the domestic terror of Helen Phillips' The Need, along with contemporary nonfiction books like Darcy Lockman's All the Rage and Lisa Taddeo's Three Women. One could say it's the fun that's missing from All Joy and No Fun.

I suspect this book (or perhaps the movie, having already been optioned as Amy Adams' next star vehicle), will strike a nerve. I'm interested to see how readers, especially those of color, react to the author's choice to leave the protagonist unnamed, which grasps at a universality that I'm not sure every mother could claim. I also had many questions about the romantic/sexual threads of the story and how the conflict with the husband could have been further complicated and/or otherwise resolved. Can't wait to talk about this one.

I'm grateful to Doubleday and NetGalley for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for my honest opinion.

I may never quite get over this stunner of a novel. I'll be writing more about it for a publication, but here let me just say that the narrative, emotional, and thematic thrusts of this novel work in perfect harmony to create something altogether unsettling, hilarious, and true. I (ha) devoured this novel, and I know it will find its readership.

Add this book to your radar, if it's not already there. I've never read something quite like it.

Thanks to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest opinions.

Nightbitch is one of those rare novels that you pick up and you're not quite sure what you're getting yourself into... but you quickly find out and love every second of the ride. It's a strange concept, this magical realism-type text, but I couldn't put it down. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys satire, stories about womanhood, and the notion of power dynamics. I think this will be a book that will be significantly talked about in 2021.

Writing a review of this book feels like writing a sketch for Stefon from SNL. This book has everything. Spot-on observations about the cost of motherhood, and all of the conflicting feelings that accompany it; fantasies of giving in to your most base desires and instincts; and a happy ending.
I cannot wait to share this book with everyone.

I was unable to read more than a quarter of the book. I just couldn’t connect with a woman/dog who didn’t even have a name 25% in. I was given this book for free in exchange for an honest review by NetGalley.

I had to read this right away. I was not disappointed. It made me appreciate again that motherhood is not for me but it was funny and realistic despite its fantastical premise—Midwestern mom or weredog? I thought the liberal arts/art scene parts were very realistic. I’m always interested in stories of women more like ones I know than the soccer mom type that is in so many other books.

A fascinating, kaleidoscopically rich take on early motherhood. However fantastic the happenings in the novel I never doubted for a moment the underlying truth of the protagonist's experience. Sure, this new mother at the heart of the story starts turning into a dog, literally, on the novel's first pages, but even so, as I read along, I kept thinking: 'yes, that's exactly the way it is.'

Yoder taps into a feeling deeper than metaphor in describing the helplessness, ennui, stress, erasure, and overwhelming fatigue of caring for a young child. She paints the mother's reactions to her clueless-helpful husband perfectly--the way he's always eager to step in with advice, and yet always wrong in his advice. I loved the veracity of the child, too, who behaves as children that age do: as small dictators.

The unnamed Everymother at the heart of the story is simultaneously helpless to change her fate, and completely empowered to do just that--if only she reaches out and claims her power. The story is told from a point of view very deep inside the mother's head: her reactions, her experiences, her moods, her decisions. It felt intimate and true for the way it describes motherhood as a disruptive metamorphosis.

A good companion novel to this read would be the wonderful CARMEN DOG by Carol Emshwiller (1990) a book in which all women begin to transmogrify in beastly ways. And who would blame them.