We chat with author Nino Cipri about Dead Girls Don’t Dream, which is a dark, macabre YA queer horror which weaves together the haunting atmosphere and brutal reality of Winter’s Bone with the revenge and empowerment narrative of Jennifer’s Body.
Hi, Nino! Can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?
I’m Nino Cipri, a trans and queer writer. I dabble in all genres, but mostly read and write horror these days. I’m married to fellow writer Nibedita Sen, and our apartment is full of weird art, books, and Halloween decor that stays up year round. My wife once had to stop me from taking home a creepy doll we found abandoned on Coney Island Beach, which says a lot about my chances of ever surviving a horror movie.
When did you first discover your love for writing and stories?
Very young! I wrote my first short story in second grade, I think? I started taking writing classes at thirteen years old, and have worked in different media and genres: screenwriting, playwriting, poetry, podcasting, journalism, essay-writing, criticism, until shifting over to fiction, and have been occupying that weird spot between genre and literary ever since.
Quick lightning round! Tell us:
- The first book you ever remember reading: Barbara Berger’s picture books (especially Grandfather Twilight and When the Sun Rose) and every Berentstain Bears book ever.
- The one that made you want to become an author: I wrote a very earnest letter to Steven Spielberg in 6th grade, telling him he should make a movie of O.T. Nelson’s The Girl Who Owned a City, and that I’d write the screenplay for him to direct. It’s a weird book that’s basically Atlas Shrugged dressed up as a post-apocalyptic adventure for kids. I don’t recommend it, but there was something about it that made me think, I could write this story better than the author did. Which is the kind of thing you think when you’re eleven and convinced of your own genius.
- The one that you can’t stop thinking about: Slugs by David Greenberg and illustrated by Victoria Chess. Absolutely terrifying and disgusting children’s book about eating and being eaten by slugs. It’s great, and I do recommend it!
Your latest novel, Dead Girls Don’t Dream, is out November 12th! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?
Weird, queer, witchy folk horror.
What can readers expect?
Folk horror that’s actually about poor rural people instead of the tourists who come and gawk at them. Blood magic. Magical deals. A bit of body horror. Digressions into Appalachian folklore, Frankenstein, and a TV show that’s basically Desigining Women if they were witches on the Love Boat. A lot of feelings about family. A scene of a drug overdose reversed by naloxone, which I’m surprised that I don’t see more often in literature? And actually, more than “a bit” of body horror, it gets pretty gnarly towards the end.
Where did the inspiration for Dead Girls Don’t Dream come from?
It’s based on a short story I wrote in 2017, called “Which Super Little Dead Girl™ Are You? Take Our Quiz and Find Out!” It changed very drastically over years of rewrites. It’s been infused with my feelings about growing up in a family that struggled with addiction, poverty, and abuse, as well as the ugly and weird parts of growing up in Vermont, which is famous for being pretty and picturesque.
Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring?
I love making characters have important, intimate conversations while doing something weird. Towards the end of Dead Girls, there’s a scene where the main characters talk about their trauma while one is stapling the other’s gaping wounds shut. It’s very soft and sweet.
What a stunning cover! Did you have a vision in mind? What did you think of the cover when you saw the final artwork?
Despite growing up in a family of artists, I have no talent for visual art. So I had no vision, but I immediately fell in love with cover artist Michelle Avery Konczyk’s style, and was thrilled to work with her. She painted an incredible cover. I had no thoughts when I saw it. My brain filled with gibberish, and I might have cried a little.
What’s next for you?
I’m currently in revisions for my next YA horror novel, about four kids in a residential facility for troubled teens that happens to be extremely haunted. It’s tentatively titled Every Room a Hunger, and should be out in autumn 2026. I’m trying to decide between a new novella project: probably either a rom-com about organized crime wizards or a cosmic horror portal fantasy.
Lastly, what books have you enjoyed this year and are there any that you can’t wait to get your hands on in 2025?
August Clarke’s Metal From Heaven, Stephen Graham Jones’ Angel of Indian Lake, and Donyae Coles’ Midnight Rooms have all been standouts for me this year. In 2025, I’m most looking forward to Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread by Leila Taylor, Sour Cherry by Nassos Theodoridou, and Deadstream by Mar Romasco Moore.
