Chapter 11. Kiss Me, Murder Me in the Woods – Summary and Analysis

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: This guide contains detailed spoilers for the entire novel. Proceed only if you've finished reading or are comfortable knowing the plot.

Summary

In Chapter 11, Gutowitz describes a failed first kiss at age fourteen with a boy named Jack in the woods, an event that felt terrifying rather than romantic. This memory leads her to reflect on her lifelong aversion to horror movies, which she took seriously as a teen—The Skeleton Key haunted her for months. During the pandemic, living with her “hot goth girlfriend” Emma, Gutowitz began watching horror and erotic thrillers as a form of escape. She binged turn-of-the-millennium slashers, listened to early-2000s pop-punk, and indulged in nostalgic comfort foods. This retreat into the past helped her realize that adult fears—pandemic, loss, relationship strain—are far more overwhelming than teenage anxieties. Horror movies, once a source of genuine terror, now feel soothing because they offer known outcomes and a reminder that she survived her earlier scares.

Key Events

Gutowitz recalls holding hands with her first crush, Jack, and leading him into a clearing in the woods to kiss, but she panics and runs away.
She describes the aftermath of watching The Skeleton Key (2005) at age fourteen, which gave her months of sleepless nights and a fear of spirits.
During quarantine, Gutowitz’s girlfriend Emma moves in, and they begin watching horror movies together, starting with The Invisible Man (2020) and erotic thrillers like Basic Instinct, The Roommate, Chloe, and Jennifer’s Body.
She works through a list of turn-of-the-millennium horror films compiled by a Vulture editor, noting the addictive, comforting quality of early-2000s pop culture.
Gutowitz listens to emo and pop-punk songs from her youth (Hoobastank, Green Day, Simple Plan) while driving at night and buying nostalgic candy.
She admits to feeling detached from her adult life; anxiety about the pandemic, her parents, her career, and her relationship accumulates.
The chapter concludes with Gutowitz finding solace in horror movies because their endings are known and survivable, unlike the uncertain present.

Character Development

Jill Gutowitz – The author traces her emotional growth from a fearful teenager who couldn’t handle a kiss or a horror movie to an adult who uses those same films to cope with real-world dread. She acknowledges her privilege in having a safe home to run to in youth and learns to distinguish between manageable “frights” and overwhelming “fear.”
Emma – Referred to as Gutowitz’s “hot goth girlfriend,” Emma is the catalyst for Gutowitz’s shift toward horror. She is supportive but also pushes Gutowitz out of her comfort zone, symbolizing the compromises and growth that come with intimate partnership.
Jack – The first crush, mentioned only in the opening memory. His presence represents the simplicity of teenage expectations and the relief of knowing how that story ended.

Themes, Symbols, or Motifs

Nostalgia as escape – Gutowitz idealizes her past because its outcomes are known; she can control the narrative. The “candy” of old movies and music provides temporary relief from pandemic uncertainty.
Horror as comfort – Once a source of genuine terror, horror movies become a release valve for adult anxiety. The genre’s formulaic structure and guaranteed resolution offer a sense of safety absent in real life.
The body and fear – Physical sensations dominate the chapter: the constriction of the woods, the nausea from too much candy, the “frozen ice-block form” of pandemic existence. Gutowitz’s embodied reactions illustrate how fear resides in the body.
Queer lens on genre – Gutowitz reclaims the “depraved bisexual” trope in erotic thrillers as both offensive and appealing, noting that lesbian tension—suspense, waiting—is inherently part of her experience. This reframes horror as a genre that can affirm queer identity.

Why This Chapter Matters

This chapter crystallizes one of the memoir’s central arcs: the transition from teenage fear to adult dread. By juxtaposing a near-first kiss with the horror of living through a pandemic, Gutowitz shows that the same anxieties that felt world-ending in youth can later seem manageable. Horror movies become a bridge between past and present, allowing her to process trauma in a controlled setting. The chapter also reinforces the book’s theme of queer growth through partnership, as Emma’s influence helps Gutowitz confront her fears. Finally, it explains the title “Girls Can Kiss Now” by showing that fear of intimacy (kissing) gave way to a deeper fear of losing intimacy—and that surviving the first kind of fear makes the second one survivable too.

Study Questions and Answers

How does Gutowitz’s reaction to The Skeleton Key as a teenager differ from her adult reaction to horror films?
As a teen, Gutowitz could not shake the fear from the movie; it triggered months of insomnia and a belief that spirits were present. As an adult during the pandemic, watching similar horror films feels “soothing” because real-world anxieties are so much larger. The movies now offer a known, limited scare that she can look away from, whereas adolescent fear was all-consuming.
What role does Emma play in Gutowitz’s changing relationship with fear?
Emma, described as a “hot goth girlfriend,” introduces Gutowitz to horror films she would have avoided. Living together during quarantine forces Gutowitz into compromise, and through Emma’s influence, she discovers that horror can be a source of comfort and connection rather than pure terror. Emma’s presence also represents the adult love Gutowitz is afraid to lose, grounding the chapter’s emotional stakes.
Why does Gutowitz say she “miss[es] when things were as simple as Jack and I being ‘perfect’ for each other”?
The simplicity refers to the certainty of knowing how that teenage story ended—she ran away, survived, and learned from it. In the pandemic present, nothing is certain: relationship stability, health, career, life itself. The past, even its painful moments, is a known quantity, and that knowledge provides a relief unavailable in the uncertain adult world.