Book Review: Crazy Bitches

By Roberta Beary
Published by MacQ
Winston-Salem, North Carolina
2025, paperback, 128 pages
ISBN: 979-8-3305-6606-8
$25 USD
Available from online booksellers,
including Bookshop.org and Amazon UK

Reviewed by Cherie Hunter Day

When it comes to haibun, Roberta Beary literally wrote the book—or rather co-wrote the book, Haibun: A Writer’s Guide (AdHoc Fiction, 2023), along with Lew Watts and Rich Youmans. Crazy Bitches is the long-awaited, full-length collection of Beary’s haibun, spanning 20 years of writing and publishing. Beary (they/she) honed their skills by publishing not only haibun, but also nanofiction, flash fiction, and nonfiction in journals such as The New York Times, Rattle, MacQueen’s Quinterly, 100 Word Story, Litro Magazine, and Atticus Review. The result is a collection that shows the evolution of a prominent voice in haibun.

Much of Beary’s work centers on being a trauma survivor. The reasons why they write are succinctly stated in an excerpt from Haibun: A Writer’s Guide, included at the end of Crazy Bitches:

At the end of the day, I write haibun for the people who view themselves as unseen and unheard. The person whose hurt is too big to carry. Or who was told no one will believe you. I want that person to know I see you; I hear you. You are not alone.

Truth is a powerful medium. The 80 selected haibun are arranged into three sections: Cheshire Moon (2022–2024); Send Lazarus (2016–2021); and To See in the Dark (2004–2015). Starting with the author’s most recent work, the collection works backwards to the earliest haibun. Each section in turn is organized alphabetically by title. This feature intensifies the granularity of past/present experiences. Memory is often a patchwork of disjoined recall, thanks especially to the blackout periods that surround trauma as a self-preservation tactic. The idea of listing the stories by this artifact widens the disjunction between accounts. It also allows for surprising and serendipitous connections between stories.

In Beary’s seminal essay, “Why I Write Haibun, or The Holy Trinity of Haibun” (Blithe Spirit, 2019), their advice is “to pick titles that grab the reader’s attention—a worthwhile experience lies ahead.” The collection’s title, Crazy Bitches, is certainly arresting. Calling someone a bitch is also dismissive, in effect saying, Don’t believe her, she’s just a crazy bitch. There is no dismissing this collection, though. In that same essay, Beary is also upfront about the scope of the collection’s subject matter:

[M]y haibun repertoire has expanded from childhood reminiscences, both good and ill, to encounters with chemo patients, bullies, spouses, lecherous teachers, ex-husbands, and election results. For me, no subject is off limits … the emotion must be real … nothing is more fatal to writing haibun than the fear of offending.

I found it hard to read all the accounts of trauma. But the collection has a dark momentum, and despite wanting to take a break, I continued to read, looking for the light. The bright spots stand out like lighthouses. Midway through reading the collection, a childhood memory of my own surfaced. I put the book aside and wrote a haibun. That says something about the power of this book. Even though Beary’s disclosures made me uncomfortable, they prompted me to look deeper and to write. There is value in this, even years later. Beyond naming the instance, it offers an opportunity to replace the filters and come to a different conclusion. There is powerful healing in storytelling.

With so many haibun in Crazy Bitches to select from, it’s hard to choose just a few examples. I’ve selected one from each section, beginning with the winner of the 2024 Touchstone Award for Individual Haibun.

Grief: The Uncut Version

childhood desk

i trace initials

no longer mine

Life is a scratchy film reel that plays in your head, your mother swanning into the solarium that overlooks the pool; life is her eyeing you from her loveseat perch, on her lap pink crocheted squares and the latest Dick Francis; life is you laughing when she says, Roberta, all kidding aside, you could stand to lose a few pounds maybe eat more salads, and even though you will sell the Florida condo, life is spending an hour looking at its staged photos, zooming in on what your mother calls the solarium and you call the sunroom just to hear her brusque correction; life is the warmth of the sun on your face as you curl up under her afghan no one else wants, while reading Dick Francis for the umpteenth time; life is letting the book fall from your hands as you close your eyes, a scratchy film reel playing in your head, your mother swanning into the sunroom solarium sunroom solarium sunroom.

10 years gone clouds shift a broken stairway

[originally published in MacQueen’s Quinterly, Issue 24, 2024]

This haibun from the second section focuses on the trauma survival tactic of dissociation.

Verisimilitude
 
all day they drink and argue. argue and drink. then come looking for me. find me hiding under the bed. break me into pieces. some say they bury me in the woods. but those are only my bones. look for me in the night sky. cradle of stars. softly he rocks me. man in the moon.

earth tremor—

baby teeth rattle

a pink jar

[originally published in KYSO Flash, Issue 9, 2018]

And from the third section:

Memorare

May is the month of Mary every day in May

be sure to wear something blue in Mary’s honor

that never was it known that anyone who fled

to thy protection implored thy help or sought

thy intercession was left unaided patent leather
shoes are not allowed because boys must be

kept free from temptation to thee do I come

before thee I stand sinful and sorrowful
always 
remember your guardian angel despise not my

petitions but in thy mercy hear and answer me

meth addict

the baby face

in my wallet

[originally published in Modern Haiku 40:2, 2009]

I selected this last haibun as an example of craft. Taking the Marian intercessory prayer and weaving the narrative through it is a unique and effective strategy. This haibun won the Favorite Haibun Award in Modern Haiku.

Four abstract acrylic paintings by Kevin Beary, the author’s brother, and five photographs from the author’s family photo albums illustrate the collection. This is up-close and personal. The striking cover painting is also by Kevin Beary.

In the author’s words, “So I go on, telling haibun stories and shaping myself in the process.” And we as readers are the beneficiaries of that work. I highly recommend Crazy Bitches.

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About the Reviewer

Cherie Hunter Day has written haibun since 2000. Her haibun “In Rumble Dark” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2019. Recent collections include A House Meant Only for Summer (Red Moon Press, 2023) and Miles Deep in a Drum Solo (Backbone Press, 2022), which won a 2022 Touchstone Distinguished Book Award. Both books are available from the author: cheriehunterday@gmail.com

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