16 Dec Book Review – Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder

Oh boy, Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder. I dove into this one because the premise sounded wild (a mom turning into a dog? Yes, please?) and the reviews hinted at a deeply feminist, feral kind of chaos that I couldn’t resist. Plus, the title! It grabs you by the scruff and says, “Read me or regret it.” I cracked it open during one of those late-night reading sessions when you’re already teetering on the edge of existential dread—perfect vibes for this book.

There’s something about stories that lean into the madness of motherhood that I find weirdly cathartic, even though I’m not a mom. Maybe it’s the way they push back against the “Pinterest-perfect” idea of life and embrace the primal stuff. Plus, it reminded me of this one time my cousin, a new mom, told me she was so sleep-deprived she thought she was turning into a raccoon. Naturally, I thought of her a lot while reading this.

What’s it about?:

So, here’s the gist: a nameless mom—referred to only as “the Mother”—is living her best (read: stressed, sleepless, and wildly underappreciated) suburban life, taking care of her toddler while her husband works late and travels a lot. She’s feeling the isolation, the burnout, the crushing monotony of it all. And then… she starts noticing some changes. Her teeth are sharper. Her body hair is growing in weird places. She’s suddenly drawn to raw meat. Before long, she starts believing—no, knowing—that she’s turning into a dog.

Is she actually transforming, or is this a metaphor for the feral rage and identity crisis of early motherhood? Yoder keeps you guessing. Along the way, we get biting (pun intended) commentary on gender roles, societal expectations, and the beastly nature lurking just under the surface of polite society. The whole thing feels like part horror, part absurdist comedy, with a dash of magical realism thrown in for good measure.

What This Chick Thinks:

I have to say, Nightbitch was not what I expected—though, in fairness, I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting. The writing is visceral and unapologetic, almost stream-of-consciousness at times, which really worked for the raw, animalistic vibe of the story. Yoder has a way of making even the most grotesque moments feel poetic, which I respect.

The exploration of motherhood was fascinating. It’s not the soft, sanitized version you see in most media. This is the messy, ugly, rage-filled side—kind of like if Where the Wild Things Are grew up and had postpartum depression. That said, the book sometimes felt like it was trying too hard to be profound. There were moments where I was fully invested, and others where I found myself thinking, “Okay, we get it. Motherhood is primal.”

The pacing was a little uneven. The first half was a slow burn, and then the second half got so weird, so fast, that I almost got whiplash. And while I loved the feminist undertones, some of the metaphors felt a little heavy-handed—like they came with a flashing neon sign that said, “Get it??”

Also, let’s talk about the husband. He was such a clueless, absent character that I started imagining him as a literal lamp. Which, to be fair, might have been the point.

Overall, I appreciated what Yoder was going for, but this book didn’t hit me in the heart the way some of my favorites do. I felt more like I was admiring it from a distance than really feeling it, you know? Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I finished, which has to count for something.

Final Thoughts

I’m glad I read Nightbitch. It’s bold, original, and weird in a way that keeps it buzzing in your brain long after you close the cover. But would I read it again? Not a chance. Some books are a one-and-done kind of deal, and this is one of them. I’d give it a solid 7.5 out of 10—worth the ride, but I don’t need to take it twice.

Try it if you like:

1. The Push by Ashley Audrain – If you’re into dark, unflinching stories about the realities of motherhood, this will scratch that itch—though it’s less surreal and more psychological thriller.
2. Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata – For another quirky, unsettling look at a woman pushing against societal expectations. This one’s more subtle but just as sharp.
3. My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh – For the same kind of “hot mess, but make it literary” vibe. Replace feral dog transformations with sleeping pills, and you’re in the ballpark.