When suspense auteur Alfred Hitchcock's adaptation of Robert Bloch's Psycho hit the big screen in June 1960, theaters were instructed to enforce a policy barring late admission to the film. Audiences queued in lines stretching down the sidewalk to ensure they were prompt, and upon entry were met with a poster prominently featuring the director gesturing to his watch, a wall of admonishing text warning theatergoers that they must watch the film from the very beginning—no exceptions. The campaign generated plenty of buzz for the director's first true foray into the horror genre, drumming up tension before the projector even began its whirr. Combined with at-the-time unprecedented anti-spoiler messaging, Hitchcock's directive was clear: watch the film as intended and stay mum with the uninitiated.
It wasn't just the ending's infamous reveal about Norman Bates's mother that the filmmaker wanted to keep quiet. Perhaps even more shocking at the time was the fact that scream queen Janet Leigh, the film's apparent lead, did not make it through the first 45 minutes of the film's runtime. A false protagonist, Leigh's Marion Crane is not our heroine but a victim, brutally stabbed to death in the shower in one of cinema's most legendary scenes.
That violent end cemented Crane's legacy as fiction's preeminent dead blonde, a distinction that moved writer Leah Rowan to consider a different path. What if the knife was in Marion's hands? What if she fought back and survived? Marion is a timely subversion of misogyny that champions resistance and taking back one's own power. In this interview, Rowan shares what inspired her latest book, the performances of narrators Natalie Naudus and Tawny Platis, the emergence (and catharsis) of "good for her" horror, and more.
Alanna McAuliffe: Your latest book reimagines Psycho, envisioning Alfred Hitchcock’s doomed Marion Crane not as a victim, but as a vigilante who takes matters into her own hands, to sometimes violent ends. What inspired you to write this book, and why does this feel like the right moment for Marion’s story?
Leah Rowan: I actually got the idea in, of all places, the shower. Once the thought popped into my head—what would happen if Marion fought back and didn’t die?—I felt I had to keep writing until I figured it out. As far as the moment—we’re living in a time where women’s hard-fought rights are being stripped away on the regular, particularly around bodily autonomy. Marion is about taking back that autonomy, in her case through any means.
This isn’t your first novel to hat-tip to beloved horror; your last thriller, The Last Room on the Left, offered a fresh take built upon The Shining. What was the impetus for building sharp, feminist stories from the foundation of these genre classics? Are there any others you’d like to reinvent?
While I definitely used the themes and settings of The Shining as a jumping-off point for The Last Room on the Left, Marion is still the first novel of mine I'd call a true hat-tip, in that I really wanted to give this character who is truly the most famous silver-screen victim of all time her due. I think by flipping the power dynamics, I was able to imagine something entirely new that, yes, very much has a more modern feminist lens.
As for other reinventions, if the right idea struck, I wouldn't be opposed—we'll have to see!
Marion unfolds through two points of view: that of Marion, who’s on the run, and private investigator Hannah, who’s looking into the disappearance of a young woman. Why did dual-perspective feel like the right narrative choice for this story, and how did you go about crafting these two distinct characters?
I knew I wanted to bring in an investigator element—it’s a big part of the movie and original story. I’m also a huge fan of film noir and the hard-boiled private-eye trope. Since it’s modern and a feminist reimagining, I wanted to push against that particular caricature in any way I could. So I made her a woman—young, inexperienced, even—with keen instincts and sharp reasoning that make her exceptional at her job.
Writing Hannah Pierce, a Gen Z detective who gets around on a Cannondale bike and a rusty old Geo Metro clunker, was honestly such a thrill. I fell in love with her character and might even bring her back in future stories.
Fittingly for such a structure, the audiobook is performed by two voice actors, Natalie Naudus and Tawny Platis. What was it like to hear these talents bring your story to life?
I had the pleasure of listening to every audition tape for both roles. There were so many great voice actors to choose from, but both Tawny Platis and Natalie Naudus stood out as perfect for their respective parts. Hearing them for the first time was honestly incredible. They both somehow made the words that I’d written and read over (and over and over) through the editing process feel fresh and new. I’m truly in love with their takes on both characters.
In a recent interview, you called Marion “an ode to all the women characters that had to die, pigeonholed to mere plot points.” The horror genre has a longstanding history of criticism for misogyny and its portrayals of sexuality and victimhood in general. What do you make of horror cinema and literature both past and present through this feminist lens? Do you have a perspective on progress made? Or on the emergence of “good for her” horror tropes, in which female rage is centered?
I’m a huge horror fan myself, and I obviously could not have written this novel without all these stories and movies that came before. But that said, I think it is time for the pendulum to swing in the other direction. I think many people are tired of watching women being tortured, killed, assaulted. I think that’s why you see movies like Ready or Not, Pearl, and They Will Kill You really working.
Women are tired of watching men hurt women! I think “good for her” acts as a balm for that, and I believe we’re only going to see it grow in mainstream popularity.
Are you a reader or an audiobook listener yourself? If so, are there any stories you’ve read/listened to recently that you’d recommend to listeners?
I am absolutely an audiobook listener, but in a very specific way. It’s how I dabble in genres I don’t typically gravitate to, most often fantasy, sci-fi, and speculative fiction. I’ve used audiobooks to read many of the classics (and new classics!) of those genres, like Dune, The Stand, Parable of the Sower, and The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. I’d say I do most of my reading in paper books or e-books, but I love delving into audio when I can—and it’s wonderful to hear the different narrators bring these stories to life.
