Public Access Afterworld is a Brilliant Mess That Camp Miasma Fans Need to Read ASAP

Jane Schoenbrun's debut novel explores obsession and escape with the same thematic richness as their films, but with a sprawling, sometimes unwieldy scope.

Oct 26, 2026
Reviews
Public Access Afterworld is a Brilliant Mess That Camp Miasma Fans Need to Read ASAP

Jane Schoenbrun, the filmmaker behind <em>I Saw the TV Glow</em> and <em>Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma</em>, has ventured into prose with their debut novel, <em>Public Access Afterworld</em>. This ambitious work, a thematic continuation of Schoenbrun's filmography, trades the camera for the boundless scale of the written word, resulting in a narrative that is both brilliant and, at times, a brilliant mess.

The novel opens in 2009 with David Sawyer, a high schooler captivated by his best friend, Erin Morrison. Their shared ritual of watching television culminates on the final day of analog broadcasts when Erin discovers a surreal program titled <em>Public Access Afterworld</em>. Convinced it's a portal to another existence, she becomes obsessed, a fixation David feigns to maintain their bond. This online discovery leads David to a community sharing similar inexplicable connections to television transmissions.

Digital Obsession and Screen Sickness

Fast forward to 2026, and the narrative shifts to Bethany Peters, a trans woman navigating a rapidly gentrifying Austin. Stuck in a rut, she takes a job as a content moderator at GlobalVill, a large media company. Her days are spent sifting through a disturbing mix of mundane and deeply unsettling videos, an experience that serves as her own entry point into the enigmatic world of <em>Public Access Afterworld</em>. As Bethany delves deeper, she uncovers a conspiracy surrounding the broadcast and meets individuals whose lives have been irrevocably altered by it. A developing screen sickness forces her to confront her role in a struggle she never anticipated.

Teenagers Owen (Justice Smith) and Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine) and sit together in the dark on a couch, staring into an off-screen TV, their faces lit by a purple light in Jane Schoenbrun’s movie I Saw the TV Glow

As a novel, <em>Public Access Afterworld</em> allows Schoenbrun to explore their established themes of isolation, digital connection, television as an escape, and the deconstruction of art with an unrestricted scale. The book weaves through time and alternate dimensions, featuring an ensemble cast that brings a cinematic perspective to each chapter. Schoenbrun’s characters are often defined by their obsessions, chasing new connections or elusive signals, suggesting that fantasy, much like reality, offers no singular path to happiness.

A Sprawling Narrative

The novel is peppered with moments of dark humor, such as an antagonist interrupting a climax to hijack an internet connection via Microsoft Teams. One forum member displays uncanny knowledge of <em>Gossip Girl</em> episodes without ever having watched the show. When discussions turn to sexual trauma, Bethany abruptly redirects, stating, “I don’t want to hear about that. Too dark.”

Casey, covered in glow in the dark facepaint and holding a stuffed animal’s eyeball in front of her left eye, gazes ominously into her webcam in We’re All Going to the World’s Fair.

Despite the novel's 600 pages, Schoenbrun employs economical, filmic language to propel the narrative. However, the sheer scope and the introduction of numerous characters can at times feel overwhelming. While Schoenbrun's prose is efficient, some compelling ideas are over-explained, occasionally reducing the narrative to a thought exercise. Unlike film, where meaning can be implied through imagery, the novel sometimes spells out its concepts too directly.

Originally envisioned as an HBO series, <em>Public Access Afterworld</em> is a must-read for followers of Schoenbrun's work. The novel, planned as a trilogy, offers readers the chance to engage with Schoenbrun's expansive vision through the imaginative space of prose, even if the cinematic spectacle is left to the reader's mind.

Sources