January 5, 2026
I usually avoid pandemic-themed novels like I avoid the plague group chats with 47 unread messages, but Bat Eater is the rare exception. It uses that time as a lens to explore how fear metastasises into bigotry, laying bare the ugliest parts of humanity that fester beneath the surface, waiting for a moment of collective vulnerability to erupt.
As a brown girl born in Australia to South Asian immigrant parents, my lived experience isn’t quite the same as the Asian-American context Baker delves into. Still, racism wears many faces and has an exhausting universal familiarity. But my friend Mai, who lives in the U.S., penned a review that’s a must-read.
Now, let’s get to the blood, guts and ghosts. Bat Eater kinda gives if The Ring or The Grudge had a love child with a blood-soaked thriller and it’s as haunting as it is gory. From page one, where Cora Zeng's sister, Delilah’s head meets a train (yep, we’re starting strong), the story ramps up with spine-tingling intensity and literal viscera. Cora Zeng’s job as a dry cleaner-turned-corpse-cleaner has her scraping Asian-American women off surfaces, and it’s only Wednesday. Workplace woes, am I right? But also, there seems to be a serial killer targeting a specific racial group and leaving bat corpses as their grotesque calling card.
It’s not just gore, either. We've got supernatural horror that’ll have you peeking through your fingers and rethinking that creak you heard in the next room. It's steeped in Chinese cultural lore, drawing on Zhong Yuan Jie (中元节), or the Hungry Ghost Festival. I made the mistake of reading it at night, and let’s just say my advice is to read this in the sunlight, preferably surrounded by people who can confirm nothing supernatural is crawling out of your TV or the shadows.
What truly sets Bat Eater apart is how deftly it balances its many layers. Cora’s battles extend beyond hungry ghosts and cleaning brain goo. She also grapples with trauma, abandonment issues courtesy of absentee parents, grief, her mental health and a relentless struggle with her identity. However, there was also lightness to balance the darkness, with found family vibes and zippy banter which added a layer of warmth and dark humour.
But perhaps Bat Eater’s most remarkable achievement is its seamless weaving of horror with incisive social commentary. It's full of uncomfortable truths: the fetishisation of Asian women, the sharp sting of systemic racism, racially motivated hate crimes, police brutality, media manipulation and copaganda. It will shock, entertain, provoke, creep you out, make you squirm and possibly make you feel the need to wear a jade bangle and burn a small mountain of joss paper.
It might be premature to crown Bat Eater my favourite book of 2025 (ask me again in December 2025), but the bar has been set high.
Five gory, blood-spattered stars. Thank you to NetGalley & Hachette AU & NZ for fuelling my nightmares in exchange for an honest review. I'll be thinking about this one for a long time.
PS. Mind your triggers! Besides the obvious ones, another one to be mindful of is animal cruelty and animal corpses. Full list of trigger warnings and other FAQ here.
♦️♦️♦️
Gore, ghosts, and bats—Kylie Lee Baker's adult horror debut, reminiscent of Mexican Gothic meets She is a Haunting.
As a brown girl born in Australia to South Asian immigrant parents, my lived experience isn’t quite the same as the Asian-American context Baker delves into. Still, racism wears many faces and has an exhausting universal familiarity. But my friend Mai, who lives in the U.S., penned a review that’s a must-read.
Now, let’s get to the blood, guts and ghosts. Bat Eater kinda gives if The Ring or The Grudge had a love child with a blood-soaked thriller and it’s as haunting as it is gory. From page one, where Cora Zeng's sister, Delilah’s head meets a train (yep, we’re starting strong), the story ramps up with spine-tingling intensity and literal viscera. Cora Zeng’s job as a dry cleaner-turned-corpse-cleaner has her scraping Asian-American women off surfaces, and it’s only Wednesday. Workplace woes, am I right? But also, there seems to be a serial killer targeting a specific racial group and leaving bat corpses as their grotesque calling card.
It’s not just gore, either. We've got supernatural horror that’ll have you peeking through your fingers and rethinking that creak you heard in the next room. It's steeped in Chinese cultural lore, drawing on Zhong Yuan Jie (中元节), or the Hungry Ghost Festival. I made the mistake of reading it at night, and let’s just say my advice is to read this in the sunlight, preferably surrounded by people who can confirm nothing supernatural is crawling out of your TV or the shadows.
What truly sets Bat Eater apart is how deftly it balances its many layers. Cora’s battles extend beyond hungry ghosts and cleaning brain goo. She also grapples with trauma, abandonment issues courtesy of absentee parents, grief, her mental health and a relentless struggle with her identity. However, there was also lightness to balance the darkness, with found family vibes and zippy banter which added a layer of warmth and dark humour.
But perhaps Bat Eater’s most remarkable achievement is its seamless weaving of horror with incisive social commentary. It's full of uncomfortable truths: the fetishisation of Asian women, the sharp sting of systemic racism, racially motivated hate crimes, police brutality, media manipulation and copaganda. It will shock, entertain, provoke, creep you out, make you squirm and possibly make you feel the need to wear a jade bangle and burn a small mountain of joss paper.
It might be premature to crown Bat Eater my favourite book of 2025 (ask me again in December 2025), but the bar has been set high.
Five gory, blood-spattered stars. Thank you to NetGalley & Hachette AU & NZ for fuelling my nightmares in exchange for an honest review. I'll be thinking about this one for a long time.
PS. Mind your triggers! Besides the obvious ones, another one to be mindful of is animal cruelty and animal corpses. Full list of trigger warnings and other FAQ here.
♦️♦️♦️
Gore, ghosts, and bats—Kylie Lee Baker's adult horror debut, reminiscent of Mexican Gothic meets She is a Haunting.
