This November, we’re giving thanks… for workplace meltdowns, questionable moral choices, and the satisfying crunch of a horror story that bites back, which brought us to Eat the Ones You Love.
By the time November rolls around, we’re all running on caffeine, burnout, and the faint hope of surviving until the holidays. So when a book about a man-eating plant—and the humans who have to keep showing up to deal with it, won our vote, it felt like the universe was sending a message.
Why November Feels Right for This Read
November is the season of feasting and fatigue, a time when we overextend ourselves and pretend its cozy self-care. Eat the Ones You Love fits perfectly in that space: part workplace horror, part black comedy, and wholly unnerving. It’s for anyone who’s ever muttered, “This job is going to be the death of me,” and felt only half-joking about it.
The story takes root slowly (pun intended), letting tension coil quietly until it’s impossible to ignore. Sarah Maria Griffin builds her worlds the way creeping vines take over a building: subtly, beautifully, and with a sense of inevitability. Her monsters are rarely just monsters, they’re reflections of hunger, guilt, and human need.
What Makes This One Deliciously Disturbing
Without spoiling the plot, this isn’t a creature feature in the traditional sense. Griffin’s horror is organic and internal. It feeds on the small compromises people make to survive, the way routine dulls fear until the unthinkable becomes manageable. It’s absurd, funny, and painful in equal measure—the literary version of nervously laughing during a panic attack.
In an interview, Griffin once said, “I think a lot about what it means to be devoured by your own desire to be good at something” (source: The Irish Times). That line could be the book’s thesis. Beneath the man-eating plant and corporate absurdity, Eat the Ones You Love is a story about what it costs to stay loyal—to jobs, to art, to people—long after they’ve stopped nurturing you back.
The novel’s world feels like a fever dream of late-stage capitalism, wrapped in the sensory lushness of Griffin’s prose. The horror doesn’t come from the supernatural so much as the realization that we’ve all been complicit in something monstrous.
Why We Chose It
Beyond the gore and grim humor, this book is a mirror. It asks why we tolerate so much rot before we finally walk away. It’s a horror story that’s as much about empathy as it is about endurance, how people keep showing up even when the work, the system, or the thing in the back room starts to bite back.
If you’ve read Griffin’s earlier novels “Spare and Found Parts” or “Other Words for Smoke,” you’ll recognize her signature blend of intimacy and eeriness. Her writing lives in that liminal space between tenderness and terror, between art and appetite (more on her work at sarahmariagriff.com). Also check out her social posts on Instagram and Bluesky.
Join the Feast
We’ll be meeting to discuss Eat the Ones You Love on Tuesday, November 25 at 8 PM Central / 9 PM Eastern. Bring your favorite drink, your best “I’m done with work” energy, and maybe check that your houseplants are where you left them.
This book is for everyone who’s ever been chewed up by their job—figuratively or otherwise. Happy feasting, spooky readers.
