Dear TBR,
Here is a true and embarrassing thing: I am a scaredy cat.
I do not like roller coasters that drop me from up high. I do not like haunted houses, bloody costumes, or jump scares. I do not like people who think it is funny to say “Boo!” or make loud noises, and see if I jump. (Full disclosure: I usually don’t jump. I kick.) Growing up with religious people meant that there was always someone who nevertheless had Way Too Many Stories of the devil (whyyyy are some religious people like that???), and as a kid I braced myself daily against a deeply terrifying world. But, I also love reading adventures where people who are definitely not me do necessary, difficult things, and get home safely. I want to recreate myself as brave, facing Terrible Danger or Ultimate Evil, and making it through. What better way for a scaredy cat reader to reinvent themselves than through a book? So, throughout this late summer-into-autumn, I am embarking on a self-challenge, to read the dangerous, the mysterious, and the horrible. Middle grade style, to be exact, which should assure that the terror is …mild. Right?
…that’s the theory, anyway. Onward, into October Country.
Ghosts, Toast, and Other Hazards, by Susan Tan: Mo Lin is not afraid of toast, just so you know. But she knows well the danger of making cinnamon toast without paying attention to it – it could result in a fire that scorches the whole wall. So Mo carefully unplugs the toaster, the stereo, and all the lamps before she goes to bed. Mo also knows what can happen if you don’t pay attention to your family – it can all fall apart before you know it. So, she carefully keeps an eye on her five-year-old sister, CeCe, and her mother, who is spending an awful lot of time in her room with the door closed. The only person Mo feels like she doesn’t have to keep an eye on is her Uncle Raymond, and his awful chihuahua, Serenity. Everything else feels poised on the edge of disaster.
I haven’t read a middle grade book that treats anxiety in quite such a uniquely resonant way. Mo’s constant fear of fire translates into a fear for other kinds of conflagrations – the kind that burn your spirit to a crisp as well. Seeing someone pull the corners of their eyes up in a mockery of her Asianness sounds the klaxons of “Unsafe!” within her. Finding a too-friendly boy who wants to talk to her, or an unfriendly boy who wants to tease her, or even a nice girl who wants her to join a book club — suddenly everyday interactions have her questioning herself, and just to be on the safe side… have her retreating from them all.
And that’s not even getting into the dreams. Or the weird history of the new town she’s living in. Or the horrible, painful rejection she’s facing from her former stepfather.
Mo has a lot on her plate – but the one thing she finds out is that mostly, we can’t deal with our stuff alone. It takes a village to lay a ghost to rest. Is the ghost literal, or figurative? That’s for the reader to discern. This book is very definitely on the low-end of horror. It’s emotionally fraught, rather than scary – and gives readers a lot to think about, and a lot of good music to listen to as well. I love its matter-of-fact portrayal of a Chinese-American girl whose ethnicity is not the book’s subject matter except tangentially, and whose family culture is just part of what makes her who she is.
The Forgotten Girl, by India Hill Brown: Iris has nightmares – the kind of sleep paralysis ones that are just so creepy. They’re not really helped by her best friend Daniel’s grandmother, Suga, who says that when she can’t move, it’s because she has a witch riding her, and that if she sleeps with a broom beneath her bed, the witch will ride that instead. Iris spends a lot of time thinking of prayers instead of sleeping – but she also has a night light, and is more than a little ashamed of that. She’s twelve, captain of her step-team and a middle schooler. She should be over night terrors by now.
Iris feels like she should also be over being overlooked and ignored. Her classmates are interviewed as young leaders on the evening news – but no one remembered to ask Iris to come. Sometimes it feels like no one ever remembers that Iris is… around, and it seems like some prefer it that way, since all of the young leaders interviewed are White. Iris is bitter at being ignored, but her mother warns her not to do things to be noticed. “Be so good that they can’t ignore you,” is her advice, but Iris doesn’t know how, until she finds the perfect history project to share with her school. Once upon a time, they’re cozy little school was segregated, as was their town, and even the graveyard where her friend Daniel’s father was buried. When the town desegregated, some of their history was forgotten – and lost. But Iris has a way to bring the past back into the light. It sounds like a good idea… but when Iris’s night terrors get worse, and begin to involve her baby sister, it seems that all of the past shouldn’t come back into the light. Some of the past seems like it to stay buried – deep.
THIS book has a scary cover. I hate it (ugh, the eeeeyes!!!), but it hits all the perfect notes. The scary things are on the literal end of horror – a ghost which at first is seen only by Iris, but eventually spreads its influence to her little sister, Vashti, her best friend Daniel, and Daniel’s grandmother. The stakes and the potential for disaster ratchets higher as each new person gets involved, and there were indeed a few times I sped past pages, just skimming, because aargh, but the ultimate resolution is satisfying, and readers can safely go back to bed with the lights off afterward.
Fresh onto Still on the TBR:
- The Blue Book of Nebo, Manon Steffan Ros – read, unreviewed
- Bloom, by Kevin Pannetta
- Check & Mate, by Ali Hazelwood – read, unreviewed
- Love Triangle: How Trigonometry Shapes the World, by Matt Parker (NB: No intention of reading this, just love the title)
Until the next book, 📖
Still A Constant Reader
