Unless your child is an '80s villain, we can all agree that Brad, Todd, and Brandi with an 'i' are all atrocious ideas. This Two Dollar Radio Guide will help you name your child by calling attention to those names you should probably definitely avoid.

Inside, you’ll find musings on all the worst monikers—even yours—which means you now have a new gift idea for your family members. Who needs 23 and Me, when rather than finding out if you’re 2.7 percent Welsh, you can get to the bottom of why your cousin Dale Henry is an 8-year-old girl with an overbite, and not a grizzled country and western singer.<br> Also inside: <li>Fiona: Ahh, yes, you like Disney. Who doesn’t? But there are no actual princesses, while many women grow up to become penpals with murderers and marry them in prison. You’re playing with fire. <li>Dylan: Can you still love your child if they grow up to send dick pics through LinkedIn? <li>Hailey: It’s hard to hear anyone say “I’m not racist, but…” especially when it’s a 14-year-old. Who wronged her? It was you.<br> In this ever-changing world, it’s hard to know how life is going to turn out for your new- or soon-to-be-born. You can’t keep them from getting their heart broken. And you won’t be able to shield every force of evil from them over the course of their whole life. You will, however, be able to avoid naming them Harley. You will need our help.

"Vulnerable, cinematic, and positively transcendent."
—Chelsea Hodson

Night Rooms is a poetic, intimate collection of personal essays that weaves together fragmented images from horror films and cultural tropes to meditate on anxiety and depression, suicide, body image, identity, grief, and survival.

Whether competing in shopping mall beauty pageants, reflecting on childhood monsters and ballet lessons, or recounting dark cultural ephemera while facing grief and authenticity in the digital age, Gina Nutt’s shifting style echoes the sub-genres that Night Rooms highlights—spirit-haunted slow burns, possession tales, slashers, and revenge films with a feminist bent.

Refracting life through the lens of horror films, Night Rooms masterfully leaps between reality and movies, past and present—because the “final girl’s” story is ultimately a survival story told another way.