We light candles for the dead. Whisper “pwera usog” to ward off misfortune. Avoid certain corners of the house at night. Even in our modern lives, horror has never truly left us—it just changed shape.
So what place does horror have today, especially in a world obsessed with productivity, positivity, and curated self-care routines?
According to award-winning Filipino author Yvette Tan, perhaps horror has more to do with healing than we think.
Her latest book, Insect Hag and Other Stories, launched at the Philippine Book Festival 2025, is a return to the shadows. But it doesn’t just scare for the sake of it. In Tan’s hands, horror becomes a mirror: reflecting generational pain, lingering grief, unresolved rage, and quiet desperation. Her work has been translated into French, Spanish, Czech, and Hungarian—proof that the spirits in her stories travel far beyond the archipelago.
For Filipino readers raised on both Catholic guilt and aswang tales, this collection feels both deeply familiar and sharply relevant.
Horror That Hits Home
What makes Tan’s stories so unnerving is that they don’t happen in faraway castles or shadowy forests. They happen in homes that feel like ours. They begin with everyday grief, longing, or guilt—and spiral, slowly, into dread.
Her characters are ordinary people in unsettling situations: a balikbayan visiting his grandmother’s home (Horror Vacui), a grieving man searching for answers in a cemetery (Wings), or a young man plagued by inexplicable misfortunes (Pwera Usog).
In First of the Gang, three boys free the spirits of elementals trapped in sandwich bags in exchange for their heart’s desires. The titular Insect Hag features a couple haunted by a dead lover’s curse, turning to a witch whose magic comes from insects.
And Antingera, the collection’s lone novella, reads like a supernatural noir set in the rubble of the drug war. Here, vengeance isn’t just personal—it’s spiritual. Tan uses the language of folk belief to interrogate justice in a society where the dead do not rest easily.
These aren’t fantasy frights. They’re allegories—for trauma, injustice, inherited silence. As reader and author Tony Perez puts it: “While the reader is taken on a journey through the macabre, they are afterward safely redeposited in the comfort of their previous reality.”
“Horror isn’t just about monsters—it’s about memory. And in Yvette Tan’s stories, it’s also about what haunts the Filipino soul.”
The Role of Horror in a Modern Filipino Life
For many Filipinos, horror stories are not just for Halloween. They are part of our everyday belief systems: the usog warnings from elders, the whispered ghost stories at family gatherings, the lingering memory of spirits in provincial homes. Horror is woven into our lives, not tucked away.
Tan taps into this cultural lexicon with fluency. She doesn’t exoticize folklore; she restores its power. She reminds us that horror isn’t escapism—it’s confrontation. Through horror, we talk about what we can’t say in daylight: grief, guilt, injustice, fear of the future.
In a country marked by collective trauma—from calamities to political violence—these stories give language to things many of us can’t articulate. They ask us to linger in discomfort long enough to understand it.
From Page to Page, a Feeling That Lingers
The book itself is a sensory experience. Each story is accompanied by illustrations from Malayo Pa Ang Umaga, with cover art by Matrioshka and design by R. Jordan P. Santos.
Visually and emotionally, the collection is unified in tone: haunting, poetic, deliberate.
Insect Hag and Other Stories debuted at No. 1 on Anvil Publishing’s Philippine Book Festival 2025 Fiction Bestsellers and landed in the Top 10 of National Book Store’s fiction list the following month. But more than commercial success, it signals something deeper: a hunger for stories that don’t just entertain, but unearth.
As Budjette Tan, co-creator of Trese, puts it: “Dark, magical stories that will haunt you long after you’ve turned the last page.”
Not Just Scary. Necessary.
In Simpol’s view, this is the kind of literature that deserves attention—not just for its craft, but for what it reflects about us.
We may live in an age of distractions, but stories like Tan’s demand our attention. They haunt us not to harm, but to remind.
Because maybe the real purpose of horror isn’t to terrify—it’s to uncover. And perhaps, to heal.
Start with one story. Let it follow you into sleep. Let it echo in silence. Because some stories are meant to be felt long after the last page turns.
Insect Hag and Other Stories is available at select branches of National Book Store and Fully Booked, and online through Anvil Publishing’s Shopee, Lazada, and TikTok stores.
If you liked this story, you might also enjoy our reflection piece on TOTGA: One That Got Away, or our cultural deep dive into Quiet Wins and Filipino Resilience.
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