bipoc | Diversity in Horror Fiction

Shutter by Courtney Alameda

Formats: Print, digital

Genre: Monster, Ghosts/Haunting, Zombie, Vampires, Blood & Guts, Thriller, Horror, Romance

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: POC (Love interest is part Aboriginal Islander, author is Latina), Disability (PTSD)

Takes Place in: type here

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Violence, Gore, Child Death, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Child Abuse, Sexism, Sexual Harassment/Assault, Torture

Blurb

Lock, stock, and lens, she’s in for one hell of a week.

Micheline Helsing is a tetrachromat-a girl who sees the auras of the undead in a prismatic spectrum. As one of the last descendants of the Van Helsing lineage, she has trained since childhood to destroy monsters both corporeal and spiritual: the corporeal undead go down by the bullet, the spiritual undead by the lens. With an analog SLR camera as her best weapon, Micheline exorcises ghosts by capturing their spiritual energy on film. She’s aided by her crew: Oliver, a techno-whiz and the boy who developed her camera’s technology; Jude, who can predict death; and Ryder, the boy Micheline has known and loved forever.

When a routine ghost hunt goes awry, Micheline and the boys are infected with a curse known as a soulchain. As the ghostly chains spread through their bodies, Micheline learns that if she doesn’t exorcise her entity in seven days or less, she and her friends will die. Now pursued as a renegade agent by her monster-hunting father, Leonard Helsing, she must track and destroy an entity more powerful than anything she’s faced before . . . or die trying.

Shutter by Courtney Alameda is a thrilling horror story laced with an irresistible romance.

As a 90’s kid, I grew up with some truly terrible action films. And I loved them. Mortal Kombat, Wild Wild West, and Total Recall are all proudly displayed on my DVD shelf. So I like to think I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to plots full of holes and cookie-cutter characters, as long as the story itself is fun and entertaining. Keeping that in mind, let’s dive into Shutter, the literary equivalent of a bad action film.

We’ll start with our four, action-cliché, main characters. We’ve got the leader of the good guys, complete with her obligatory tragic backstory, the tough guy who always has her back, the smart guy who’s good with computers but not so great at fighting, and the wise cracking jackass who we’re supposed to like but just comes off as sexist and irritating. They exist to spout “clever” quips at each other, provide exposition at awkward times, and act like bad asses.

Following a standard action movie formula, the hero decides to rush off on her own without backup, and gets suspended by the boss (who’s also her abusive dad). But they go after the bad guy anyway because screw the rules, they’re action heroes! Then there’s lots of cool action scenes, explosions, some TRULY creepy shit, and a love story that gets shoehorned in there.

Okay, so the writing is “meh”, the characters are kind of flat, and the story formulaic as hell, but was it at least exciting and entertaining? Was their nail biting suspense and horror? I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I need to address some major issues I had with story, the first being its heroine, Micheline.Micheline is a tetrachromat, able to see the invisible “ghost light” given off by the undead. As a direct descendant of Abraham Van Helsing, (because of course she is) she is sworn to protect the world from monsters, and captures and exorcises ghosts on her camera, à la Fatal Frame. Now, I’m going to give the author major props for making the lead a woman, something that doesn’t happen often in the action genre (but is slowly becoming more common). So that’s great. What’s not so great is that Micheline has this really annoying habit of having to prove what a “Strong Female Character TM” she is by running head first into danger, then needing to be rescued by the guys. Apparently nothing says “bad ass” like poor decision making and being a damsel in distress.

Micheline, is wearing her tactical, Hellsing gear and has her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She’s leaping in the air, brandishing a gun in one hand, and a camera in the other while gleefully shouting “Leerrooooy Jenkins!!!!”

Great teamwork there.

I can understand why she might want to prove herself; Micheline is struggling with PTSD and an abusive father, so it would make sense if the story was about her difficulty returning to active duty while suffering from flashbacks. Overcoming something like that is no easy task. But her trauma and strained relationship with her father seem to be their own separate thing, with little to nothing to do with her foolhardy, reckless, and selfish behavior. At least Micheline doesn’t take her grief out on everyone else, like her jerk-ass dad, she just puts their lives in danger by keeping important information from them, making everything about her, and refusing to deal with her issues. So, basically a pretty awful leader. I also got this whole “I’m not like other girls, I’m a cool girl” vibe from Micheline. Throughout the book she kept putting down other women and/or viewing them as competition for her “boys”, which was just sexist and gross. Basically, what could have been a cool, strong, female action hero was ruined by internalized sexism, bad decisions, and needing men to save her all the freaking time.

Another huge problem with Shutter was the flow of the action scenes. There is SO MUCH exposition and info dumping, and it keeps interrupting the suspenseful parts of the story. I mean, it’s wonderful how much thought Alameda put into this world, and I was certainly interested in the science behind monster hunting, but I don’t want to read a full page about how a camera works right when Micheline is about to be killed by a ghost. It’d be like pausing the duel scene between Luke and Vader to give a five minute lecture on the technology behind lightsabers. It’s cool and all, but really not the right time, and completely destroys the tension.

Micheline is fighting a shadowy creature with a glowing blue mouth and eyes. In the first panel she’s attempting to take its photo. In the second, both she and the monster jump out of the way in surprise as the words “INFO DUMP” fall from the sky. They both stand there awkwardly as an extensive, verbose paragraph about trichromsticism scrolls by. The shadow monsters asks “So do we just wait, or what?”

Forget the incredibly dramatic fight scene, let’s learn about trichromsticism!

Okay, so now for the moment you’ve been waiting for, was it at least entertaining? Heck yeah it was! The overall story was great, suspenseful, and fun, with some truly terrifying scenes. By the time I got to the second half of the book, I couldn’t put it down! The monsters were incredibly creative and creepy, like something out of Silent Hill, and the horror scenes were spot on. Alameda does an excellent job of building suspense and creating a creepy atmosphere (minus the random info dumps that kill the mood). It’s worth pointing out that this is the author’s debut novel, so it’s understandable that the book has flaws. Even the great Terry Pratchett’s early work was, admittedly, not that great, and he’s one of my favorite authors! So Alameda definitely has time to hone her skills and improve on her characterization and exposition. She’s already great at world building, horror, and action scenes. And honestly, it’s nice to see a horror novel written by a Latina author. The genre is severely lacking in Latine/Latina writers, and the few I know of are mostly men.

Overall, Shutter is a fun, suspenseful read, even with its flaws. If I could just take out the annoying characters, and focus on the plot, the monsters, and the fight scenes, the book would be perfect, like a horror survival game. That’s actually not a bad idea, it could be a cross between Fatal Frame and Resident Evil, where you can just explore abandoned buildings and fight monsters instead of listening to pointless dialogue. At least in a video game I can skip random info dumps.

The Microsoft paperclip asks “It looks like you’re trying to play a video game, would you like me to annoy you the next hour while I explain how to use the controls?” Annoyed, I complain “Argh, just let me fight monsters already!” and skip the tutorial. 15 minutes later, I wonder to myself how the hell I’m supposed to play this game.

I just imagine all annoying video game tutorials as being done by either Navi or the Microsoft Paperclip.

Tags: BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Disability, Ghosts/Haunting, Indigenous Australian, Latine/Latino, Mental Illness, Monster, Not for Me, PTSD, Romance, Thriller, Young Adult, Zombies

Everything I Know About Zombies I Learned in Kindergarten by Kevin Wayne Williams

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Mott Haven Books

Genre: Apocalypse/Disaster, Blood & Guts, Zombie

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black/African American/Caribbean American characters, Trinidad, Jamacian, Hispanic/Latinx characters

Takes Place in: New York City, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Abelism, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Body Shaming, Bullying, Cannibalism, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Gore, Medical Procedures, Miscarriage, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Slurs, Suicide, Violence

Blurb

Finalist for Foreword Reviews’ IndieFab Novel of the Year for Multicultural fiction and Horror. Even before the apocalypse, nine-year-old Letitia Johnson’s life had never been simple. Shuttled from foster home to foster home in the impoverished neighborhood of Mott Haven, it was all she could do to keep track of her little sister. When the apocalypse came, she tried to keep her sister’s kindergarten safe by locking them all in a tiny school bathroom, hiding while they waited for a rescue that never came. For five days, they hid. They hid while their teachers were being eaten, while their classmates were being killed. They hid while the Bronx was being evacuated. Now, there’s no one left to help them. There’s no place left to hide. It’s just her, one ax, twelve kindergarteners, twelve garden stakes, and a will to live.

While the cast of this novel is primarily children, the book is intended for adults and contains material unsuitable for younger readers.

When it comes to horror, kids come in two types. Either they’re sweet, innocent, completely helpless victims the protagonist needs to protect at all costs, or they’re evil little bastards that will send you into the cornfield, control you with their telepathic powers, or just straight up murder you because they’re the spawn ofSatan. The children in Everything I Know About Zombies I Learned in Kindergarten somehow land right dab in the middle of the victim/villain scale. They’re neither helpless nor innocent after being forced to go through things no child should go through, nor are they actively malicious, only killing for survival. They also don’t seem to possess the immunity to handle situations that most children do in horror stories. Kids get eaten by Zombies, shot, torn apart, and baby zombies get spiked in the head. So if you can’t stomach minors getting killed in fiction, I recommend staying far, far away from this book.

Letitia, the nine-year-old protagonist, is easily the most competent, clever, and practical character in the book, organizing her little sister’s kindergartners into a unit of efficient zombie killers and quickly picking up survival skills. Growing up with a drug addicted mom, Letitia is used to taking charge and picking up adults’ slack, in addition to becoming wary of the world at a young age. In the early chapters, they try to look for the childrens’ parents, eager to be rid of such a heavy responsibility, only to discover their dickbag guardians all evacuated without them. (Who the hell just leaves their kid behind during a disaster? You’d think they’d at least make some effort to save them, damn.) The adult survivors actually pose more of a threat than the zombies (or cucos, as the children call them), their greed and despair claiming far more lives than the undead do. It’s weird, even though the children are far from innocent, having become skilled killers, the adults are the ones who’ve become morally bankrupt. The few who do manage to hold on to their optimism and naivety don’t last long, foolishly trusting the wrong people or refusing to admit the world, and the rules, have changed. The kids might be depressingly cynical and violent now, but they’re merely adapting to their new reality, and are much more practical than their grown counterparts. It’s no wonder the adults are so unnerved by them.

In the top panel, a little girl holding a spike is telling a grown woman “Don’t worry Señorita, I will protect you from the cuco!” The woman, bemused, responds “Awwww, you’re so adorable!” In the next panel the little girl brandishes her spike with a crazed grin and responds “I have become an expert killer and now I yearn for blood! Human or cuco, I can slay them with ease!” The woman, confused and concerned, asks “Wait, what?”

Some of the kids enjoy killing a little too much.

I was expecting the children being eaten by the undead to be the most disturbing part, until the book turned out to be about the death of innocence, and children being forced to adapt to a situation no child should ever go through. It’s one thing to read about fantastical monsters like Zombies attacking a bunch of helpless kids, but quite another when they’re dying from gun violence, or growing up in crushing poverty. In the first, the situation is pure fiction, no real child is ever going to be attacked by the undead, and you can feel safe in that knowledge. But it hits close to home when it comes to real world problems. Even if the children in the story are fictional, you know millions of real kids out there right now who are surrounded by abuse, violence, and probably living without basic necessities, and that’s super depressing. So basically, it’s a story about how kids with rough lives can’t rely on adults (because they’re either malicious, incompetent, or ignorant) and have to take charge of their own safety and survival, which probably would’ve ended up happening with or without undead hordes overtaking the city. I know zombie apocalypse stories are generally bleak, but damn.

The zombies in the story are pretty much your typical Romero zombies, slow-moving and stupid, and not too difficult to kill as long as there aren’t a lot of them and their brains are destroyed, a feat which the children usually accomplish by stabbing them in the eye with garden stakes. Unfortunately, everyone becomes zombified upon death, regardless of how they die, so the undead multiply even if they can’t bite anyone. Letitia quickly figures out that the zombies are attracted to movement and sound, and is smart enough to stick to quiet, secluded areas, while the adults continue to attract the undead with the buzz of their emergency generators and gun fire (because the adults are somehow less competent than grade schoolers, another reason Letitia avoids them).

Unfortunately for me, most of the book is dedicated to the practically of surviving in an abandoned New York City, wandering around and looting mini-marts for supplies…which made for less than stimulating reading. I’m going to admit right now, I don’t like camping or fishing, or any form of “roughing it,” and I don’t like reading about it, either. I’m pretty sure I’d die if I went for more than 40 minutes without WiFi. So I’ve long ago accepted the fact that I would probably be the first person to die in a zombie apocalypse type situation due to my dependence on modern conveniences and comfort, and I’m okay with that. I’m sure some people will find all the survivor type stuff super interesting, as is evident from Discovery Channel’s programming, but I was hoping for way more suspense and undead violence, and less foraging and guinea pig farming. Speaking of which, there’s a decent amount of animal death too, apparently Zombies like to eat puppies as much as they like to eat little kids.

I’m on my knees, fists raised above my head, screaming at the sky in despair “There’s no Wi-Fi! Noooooooooooooooooooo!” A tablet lies in front of me displaying a large “no Wi-Fi” symbol on the screen.

I would not last long in an Apocalypse, or even a dead zone. How did I even function back in the 80’s?

Stepping away from the story for a moment, I feel it’s worth mentioning that while this book was a finalist for a multicultural fiction award, and has a very diverse cast, it was written by a white guy. Obviously, I prefer Own Voices books, but I’ve reviewed non-minority authors writing about minority characters on here before, and I probably wouldn’t even be mentioning the author’s race except for one thing that was bothering me. For the most part Williams does do a pretty decent job at representing a very racially diverse cast, and has clearly put a lot of effort into making the children’s voices seem authentic. But the way the protagonist, Letitia, spoke came off as iffy to me, and I found myself side-eyeing like I always do when white people try to replicate the slang and speech patterns used by people of color within their communities. Now, it’s totally possible Letitia is completely accurate to how Caribbean children speak, and I’m just super ignorant. It’s just as possible Williams was trying to portray the way an average nine-year-old speaks, and Letitia’s ethnicity had nothing to do with it. I mean, I have no idea what children are supposed to sound like, and my mom was a grammar obsessed English major so I probably sounded like an overly-formal weirdo at that age. (No one says “to whom are you referring” or “may I please”, when they’re in Kindergarten mom, GOD.) I honestly don’t know, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave that distinction to someone more qualified. And if I am jumping to conclusions, well, blame it on all the racist pidgin I’ve heard spouted by characters like Long Duk Dong and the Crows from Dumbo (did you know the main crow’s name is Jim? Damn, Disney…) over the years making me super wary.

In the top panel, a TV screen displays an image of the five crows from Disney’s Dumbo. The leader shouts “I’d be done see’n about everything, when I see an elephant fly!” In the second panel I’m squinting suspiciously at the Dumbo DVD case thinking “This movie is a lot more racist than I remember.”

Seriously, Jim Crow! WTF were you thinking Disney!?! At least they’re not as bad as Sunflower from Fantasia.

Everything I Know About Zombies I Learned in Kindergarten definitely has flaws, most of the adults (and a few of the kids) get so little characterization it’s hard to figure out who’s who, the action scenes are confusing, and Williams spends way too much time on boring minutiae, but it’s still an enjoyable read. The horror is less the gory, run away from the monster kind like I was expecting, and more a slow building horror at the nature of humanity and how adults kind of suck.

Tags: Adult, African American, Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Latine/Latino, Recommended, Zombies

Panic by Sharon Draper

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers

Genre: thriller

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: POC (Black, Asian American)

Takes Place in: Western USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Child Endangerment, Self-Harm, Kidnapping, Forced Captivity, Homophobia, Ableism, Sexism, Misogyny, Body Shaming, Slurs, Gaslighting, Violence, Death

Blurb

This gripping, chillingly realistic novel from New York Times bestselling author Sharon Draper, “by turns pulse-pounding and inspiring” (Kirkus Reviews), shows that all it takes is one bad decision for a dream to become a nightmare.

Diamond knows not to get into a car with a stranger.

But what if the stranger is well-dressed and handsome? On his way to meet his wife and daughter? And casting a movie that very night—a movie in need of a star dancer? What then?

Then Diamond might make the wrong decision.

It’s a nightmare come true: Diamond Landers has been kidnapped. She was at the mall with a friend, alone for only a few brief minutes—and now she’s being held captive, forced to endure horrors beyond what she ever could have dreamed, while her family and friends experience their own torments and wait desperately for any bit of news.

From New York Times bestselling author Sharon Draper, this is a riveting exploration of power: how quickly we can lose it—and how we can take it back.

Here’s the thing about Panic. The first time read it, I hated it. I thought it was preachy, poorly-written, and out of touch. The book advertises itself as a crime-thriller about the abduction of the teenage dancer, Diamond, and the ordeals she goes through while in captivity. And I’ll tell you right now, those parts of the story are deeply disturbing. Stop here if you don’t want to read about the abduction and sexual assault of a fictional minor. But that’s only a very small part of the story. In fact, most of the book focuses on what Diamond’s fellow dancers go through, especially a young woman named Layla who’s entwined in an abusive relationship. And that’s not what I signed up for when I started reading Panic. We have this abducted girl who’s being drugged and brutalized, and you feel so scared for her, but instead the story chooses to focus on her whiny fellow dancers. WTF?! And that bugged me, because it felt like Diamond’s rape and exploitation wasn’t important enough to focus on, so instead Draper squeezed in some insipid love triangle, and some extra drama about a dad in jail and an abusive relationship. BUT, I’ll admit, after a second reading, I initially rushed to judgment and missed the point of the book.

Despite what the book jacket said, this isn’t a story about a girl who gets kidnapped by a pedophile. I mean, that does happen, but it’s not the story’s main focus. This is a book about a bunch of kids trying to cope with the tragedy of their friend’s abduction, and expressing their fear and frustration through dance. It’s also about abuse victims, and how anyone can become one. And honestly, Panic was a lot better the second time around. I still didn’t like it, but at least I’ve now figured out why I had so many issues with the story the first time around.

Draper has definitely done her research when it comes to sexual assault and abuse. Although abductions by strangers are uncommon (most are committed by a family member or acquaintance), Diamond’s kidnapper, Thane, is just the sort of person who would lure a girl into sex trafficking. He’s not some sketchy guy driving a refrigerator van, like the ones we’re taught to fear. Instead, Thane is well dressed, friendly, and charming. He approaches Diamond in a well-lit, public food court in the mall. He’s able to back up his claims with photographs, offers to let her call her mom, and convinces her to get into his car of her own free will. This is more accurate to real life, where the people who “recruit” teens into prostitution and porn usually work out in the open. They make promises of a glamorous (or at least marginally better) lifestyle, and come off as legitimate businessmen and women. They spend time gaining their victim’s trust and learn how to manipulate them. It’s similar to other abusive relationships, like Layla’s, where the abuser presents themselves as charming and kind, and only reveals their true nature bit by bit, after they’ve developed control over their victim. Likewise, Layla’s awful boyfriend, Donovan, keeps her by his side by giving her the love she desperately craves (since her father is in jail and her mother’s never around), picking away at her self-esteem so she thinks she’s “lucky” to have him, and always tearfully apologizing whenever he hurts her. Obviously Draper knows her stuff, and is able to approach sensitive topics in an honest way. She never blames the victims (even if some of the characters do), both Thane and Donovan are clearly at fault for everything that happened to Diamond and Layla. Although, I find it ironic that Draper includes one of Chris Brown’s songs in her book about women being abused, especially since Panic was written around 2011-2012, then published in 2013, so Draper should have been aware of Brown’s domestic abuse allegations, which happened back in ’09. So yeah…

While Draper seems to be a pretty talented author, as is obvious from her descriptions of her character’s dancing, the quality of the writing in Panic varies wildly, almost as if Draper was struggling to find the right voice for a teenage audience. Sometimes the lines are elegant and poignant, while others made me feel like I was reading a “My First Chapter Book”. Except the subject matter probably isn’t appropriate for anyone in the easy reader audience (I think, I dunno what the kids are reading these days).

A fake vintage children’s book cover entitled “My First Book of Demon Summoning”. Two cheerful, Dick and Jane-esque children are wearing dark robes, the boy is on the ground praying and the girl is holding a blood dagger over her head. They’re standing in a demonic circle, surrounded by candles, with a gold bowl in the middle. Smoke rises out of the bowl revealing a very stereotypical red devil face, complete with pointed ears, horns, a moustache and goatee.

I mean, I’d let a kid read this, so I’m probably not the best judge…

Just when I’m starting to actually enjoy the story, along comes a cringe-worthy line like “This is the only place where I feel like I can really kick it.” And “OMG, the show is gonna be off the chain!” or “Nice ‘fit today… I gotta get out my shades to combat the shine you’re bouncing.” Who talks like that? NO ONE. NO ONE TALKS LIKE THAT. It’s like how old people who believe that sex bracelets are a real thing think teenagers speak. It reeks of embarrassing adult trying to be hip. Worse, it makes scenes that were intended to be moving come off as cheesy or forced. Draper also feels the need to fill her book with “current” slang, pop culture references, and mentions of popular songs from 2011, which I’m sure in no way is going to make this book seem incredibly dated in a few years. And this is what ruined the book for me. Because even though Panic isn’t actually preachy or condescending with its subject matter, the dialogue and attempts to come off as “cool” and “relevant” conjure up images of every patronizing, poorly researched, and vaguely racist PSA I was forced to sit through as a schoolchild in the 90’s. So of course that’s all I could think about the entire time I was reading Panic, those crappy drug-free programs that told naïve school children their faces would melt like the guy from Raiders if they so much as thought about smoking a joint, which led to me judging the book unfairly.

Now I’m going to sit in my chair backwards to show you how “rad” I am.

Well, not entirely unfairly. Like I said, even if the final result is decent, the quality of the writing is pretty bad in some spots, and the dialogue is god awful. And here’s another issue: Panic is fairly short, like, less than 300 pages in large print, but the book is divided between four points of view, meaning it’s hard to get a feel for any of the characters. And truthfully, they’re all kind of generic and bland. We get to know Layla better than the others, and the ballet teacher stands out as the wise adult, but everyone else just seems to be interchangeable, generic kids who respond to everything with “true dat” and “you trippin” (I’m not kidding, that’s like 20% of their dialogue. There’s clearly a lot of tripping going on). The worst of the bunch is ZiZi, who I guess is supposed to be the comic relief, but is incredibly annoying and awkwardly written, like the ballet version of Jar Jar Binks (and now you have that mental image, you’re welcome). Actually all the “humor” included in the novel falls pretty flat. Like when Mercedes (one of the four main characters) tells Layla her yellow butterfly shirt looks like a butterfly about to land in some butter. Ha ha? I guess? Panic needs an audience laugh track so I can know where the jokes are. At least the scary parts are actually scary. Then there are just random annoyances, like all the fat shaming and how a supposedly non-religious dance troupe says a Christian prayer before each performance. It’s not that I have a problem with religious characters or prayer, it just seems weird that they’re ALL the same religion in a supposedly diverse group. Is this like a dance tradition I don’t know about?

Jar Jar Binks, from Star Wars Episode 1, is wearing a silky white ballet outfit and standing en pointe, with his arms raised gracefully above his head. His tutu is covered in sparkles and he’s wearing stain blue shoes on his oddly human looking feet (I basically just put Jar Jar’s torso on top of some human legs).

Enjoy this image in your head.

I know it has won awards, I know it has fans, and I know it’s not that bad, and yes, I even know a lot of my complaints are really nitpicky, but I just can’t get myself to like Panic. Instead, I’d recommend curious readers pick up Pointe by Brandy Colbert, which deals with similar themes, but actually gives us time to get to know the characters and their feelings. It’s about a black ballet dancer trying to cope with childhood sexual abuse after the reappearance of her best friend, who was kidnapped years ago. While it’s not a thriller like Panic, it does have a compelling mystery. Pointe focuses more on the aftermath of the main character’s abuse, rather than abuse itself, and how she learns to deal with what happened. Her path to recovery is a difficult one, but the story ends on a hopeful note.

Tags: African American, Asian American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Not for Me, Own Voices, Thriller, Young Adult

Girl, Stolen by April Henry

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Genre: Thriller

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Disability (Vision Impairment, Cognitive, Learning Disability)

Takes Place in: Oregon, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Abelism, Alcohol Abuse, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Bullying, Child Abuse, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Illness, Medical Procedures, Physical Abuse, Mentions of Rape/Sexual, Slurs, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Sixteen-year-old Cheyenne Wilder is sleeping in the back of the car while her step mom fills a prescription for antibiotics. Before Cheyenne realizes what’s happening, the car is being stolen.

Griffin hadn’t meant to kidnap Cheyenne and once he finds out that not only does she have pneumonia, but that she’s blind, he really doesn’t know what to do. When his dad finds out that Cheyenne’s father is the president of a powerful corporation, everything changes–now there’s a reason to keep her.

How will Cheyenne survive this nightmare?

As you can probably guess, Cheyenne is not having a good day. Though her kidnapper’s, Griffin, isn’t going much better. The story alternates between the points of view of these two main characters, as they anxiously stumble their way through a bad situation. Cheyenne, who has been blind for about three years following a car accident, describes her world in sounds, smells, and sensations. Sick, feverish, and stranded without her guide dog and cane, she does her best to outwit her captors and survive her terrifying ordeal. Meanwhile, Griffin, who’s almost as panicked as Cheyenne, struggles between listening to his conscience and obeying his abusive, criminal father. You can sense his denial, born from years of abuse, his desperation for love and acceptance, and the fear that’s holding him back. The two characters, both trapped in terrible situations, form an unlikely bond as they nervously wait for Griffin’s father to make a decision.

Not having any sort of severe visual impairment myself (other than my corrective lenses), I can’t say how accurate April Henry’s depiction of a blind/low vision person is. But Cheyenne’s disability does seem to be well pretty researched, as far as I can tell anyway. For example, Cheyenne still has some of her peripheral vision in one eye, a nice touch since about 85% of legally blind people have at least some light and/or form perception, and complete blindness is relatively rare. And the description of how a guide dog and its owner work together sounded pretty accurate, at least from what I’ve read. She doesn’t fall victim to any of the common blindness tropes either. Then there’s this reviewer, who is herself blind, and says the portrayal of Cheyenne’s visual impairment is pretty spot on, and relatable. So there you go.

A blind/low vision man examining a hideous jacket and tells his friend “this is the ugliest effin’ jacket I have ever seen, it looks like you stole it off a patriotic clown. Please burn this immediately for the good of humanity.” Annoyed, his friend responds “You’re blind, how can you even tell what it looks like?” “Dude, I’m not that blind, though I might lose all of my vision if I have to look at this thing any longer.” “Why are you so salty?”

He’s salty because people keep accusing him of “faking” his blindness just because he can sort of see things six inches from his face with one of his eyes.

Henry could have easily made her heroine a broken bird that readers pitied, or turned the story into inspiration porn, but she doesn’t. Instead, Cheyenne is characterized as a young woman who went through a traumatic event, which understandably caused her to grieve, and then has to adapt to a completely different way of interacting with the world which is challenging, but certainly not anything extraordinary. Cheyenne works with her therapist and teachers to pull herself out of her depression and learn a new skill set, all without becoming a “feel good” story for sighted readers. She isn’t sweet and chipper about it either, our heroine gets frustrated, feels sorry for herself, lashes out, and gets grumpy. She’s allowed to be a flawed person, instead of some sort of blind saint who forgives the ableists. Although she now relies much more on sound, smell, and touch to function, her senses are the same as before, Cheyenne just learns to pay more attention to them, as oppose to getting magically heightened senses that turn her into a ninja. And yes, Cheyenne is feeling weak and helpless after being kidnapped, but this is due to being severely ill with pneumonia, not her low vision. And even sick and terrified, she’s still a tough, resourceful character.

Speaking of blind ninjas, did you know Daredevil and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles share an origin story? It has nothing to do with Girl, Stolen, it’s just cool.

Griffin, meanwhile, is complex and interesting. You can’t help but feel bad for the guy, even if Cheyenne isn’t in a position to be sympathetic, and Henry doesn’t try to excuse his actions by invoking pity in the reader (Henry never tries to get you to feel sorry for the characters, she just presents the facts of their lives). Poor Griffin’s mom left when he was young, his dad is an abusive alcoholic who forces him into a life of crime, and he has basically zero support system. We find out later that he’s Dyslexic, though unaware of it, and was forced to drop out of school because he struggles with reading. It’s an interesting contrast to Cheyenne, who comes from a wealthy background and goes to a private school that’s able to accommodate her. After her accident she had private nurses who cared for her in her home. Her father sent her to a special program where she learned how to function independently without her vision. They’re able to afford a guide dog so Cheyenne can get around. Ideally, all people with disabilities would have the same access to accommodations that Cheyenne does, but unfortunately that’s simply not the case, especially for people with low incomes or living in poverty. Griffin is one of those kids who slips through the cracks. He was never tested for Dyslexia, and his teachers and father apparently wrote him off, he gets zero help with his reading skills and is forced to drop out of school, believing his only option in life is to be a criminal like his father. Although Henry isn’t heavy handed about it, she makes clear what a world of difference it makes when people have access to proper accommodations, a constant source of frustration for anyone with a disability. Seriously, go on any disability website, and you will see a legion of posts about the daily frustration and obstacles that able-bodied and neurotypical people don’t even notice, not to mention the constant struggles with health insurance and trying to get accommodations approved at school and work.

In the first panel, a doctor is looking at her laptop when she hears a nurse yell off screen “Why didn’t anyone tell me the sink was broken!?!?!” Irritated, she responds, “*sigh* didn’t you read the sign?” In the second panel we see the nurse, who is blind and holding a cane, soaking wet from the malfunctioning sink. He snaps “If by sign, you mean the piece of paper you taped up that could say literally anything, then NO, OBVIOUSLY I DIDN’T.” Sheepish, the doctor says “Oh.... right. Sorry.”

Other pet peeves of the visually impaired include the little stickers on fruit and people who ask them to guess who they are by their voice. Seriously, don’t do that.

As for the story itself, it’s definitely a thriller, and a well written one. I couldn’t put Girl, Stolen down and ended up finishing it in only a few sittings (and that’s only because I was interrupted by annoying grown up responsibilities). Yeah, I know I haven’t gone over the writing that much, but honestly, I can’t really get into the plot without also going into spoiler territory, and part of what makes this story so great is the suspense. Of course, there are still a few flaws. Usually Henry is able to blend the backstory of the characters smoothly into the story, but it does get bogged down by random info dumps in a few places. I like when I learn new things from books, but not when they’re awkwardly shoehorned in. You don’t need to stop the story to explain what vehicle identification numbers are, I could have just Googled “VIN” if I didn’t know. Nor do we need a completely unnecessary explanation of what the Nike company is. In fact, why even bother using a real company in your book if you then have to explain what they do? Thankfully these instances are few and far between. The two main characters were interesting and well written, but everyone else was pretty bland, especially Griffin’s one-dimensional, evil father.

Oh, and for any readers who are visually impaired, the audiobook narrator, Kate Rudd does a pretty good job, though she does seem to struggle with male voices (some of them sound pretty silly), which can be distracting during a suspenseful scene. But for the most part it’s well acted; Cheyenne sounds great, and Rudd really makes the listener feel the tension. A sequel, Count all her Bones, came out this past May.

Tags: Book Review, Cognitive/Learning Disability, Disability, Recommended, Thriller, Vision Impairment, Young Adult

The Gauntlet by Karuna Riazi

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Salaam Reads

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Demon

Audience: Children

Diversity: South Asian characters, Bangladeshi characters, Middle Eastern characters, character with a Cognitive/Learning Disability/ADHD

Takes Place in: New York City, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Endangerment, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Violence

Blurb

A trio of friends from New York City find themselves trapped inside a mechanical board game that they must dismantle in order to save themselves and generations of other children in this action-packed debut that’s a steampunk Jumanji with a Middle Eastern flair.

When twelve-year-old Farah and her two best friends get sucked into a mechanical board game called The Gauntlet of Blood and Sand—a puzzle game akin to a large Rubik’s cube—they know it’s up to them to defeat the game’s diabolical architect in order to save themselves and those who are trapped inside, including her baby brother Ahmed. But first they have to figure out how.

Under the tutelage of a lizard guide named Henrietta Peel and an aeronaut Vijay, Farah and her friends battle camel spiders, red scorpions, grease monkeys, and sand cats as they prepare to face off with the maniacal Lord Amari, the man behind the machine. Can they defeat Amari at his own game…or will they, like the children who came before them, become cogs in the machine?

Belated Eid Mubarak! I hope all my Muslim readers had a happy Eid Al-Fitr, and that Ramadan brought you peace and prosperity. In the spirit of the holiday I decided to review this gorgeous children’s chapter book from Salaam Reads. Like the blurb said, The Gauntlet is basically a Middle Eastern steampunk Jumanji, and it’s SO cool. The story is overflowing with creative ideas: clockwork monkeys, liquid moonlight, giant games of Mancala played in the graveyard, the dream gardens, and the dark carnival Lailat (Arabic for “nights”). It reminded me of the Wizard of Oz combined with the PC adventure puzzle games from my childhood. It’s educational, but in a fun way that doesn’t break the flow of the story. I found myself frequently running to Google so I could learn more about Islam, or Bangladeshi and Middle Eastern cultures, or to look up what chenna murki was (and now I want to eat it). And there were even fun little references to Labyrinth and the Bollywood film, Paheli snuck in there. The book is bursting with creativity and originality, and has so much potential, but it could have been a lot better. Maybe this is a nitpicky complaint, but everything in the book felt too rushed, and it seriously marred an otherwise flawless novel. To be fair, this is Riazi’s first book, so it’s understandable that it still has some rough spots, and I have no doubt we’ll see even more amazing work from her as she hones her craft. But for now, Riazi’s work still needs more polishing and refinement before it can really shine.

The first image shows a rough, green gem and has been labeled “Rough Draft” in fancy gold lettering. The second image is of the same green gem, now polished labeled “The Gauntlet”. The final image shows a bird’s eye view of the green gem, finally cut into a “round brilliant” shape. This is labeled “Riazi’s future work?”

When I say everything felt rushed I don’t mean in a thrilling, “we have to retrieve the McGuffin before time runs out” sort of way. Instead, it’s more “Riazi had a rapidly approaching deadline and had to cut out half of the story to meet it”. Which sucks, because I really wanted to spend more time appreciating all the little details put into the world of Paheli (which is Hindi for “riddle”). There were all these amazing ideas in the story that never got to be fully explored or realized, and it’s really unfortunate. For example, the book’s description mentions “Sand Cats”, but they never make an appearance in the story itself. What gives? Was it cut out at the last minute? And everything in the story went by so fast it made some parts difficult to follow, and never gave the suspense a chance to build. Farah and her friends solved each challenge before I even got a chance to think “Oh no, will they make it?” Even the editing seems rushed. At one point “tail” is written as “tale”, words will frequently get repeated as if the author changed a sentence without deleting the old one, and there are some grammar errors. It’s not Cacy and Kiara bad, but there are enough mistakes that it makes me wonder how closely the editor reviewed The Gauntlet before publication. So it’s reasonable to assume many of the book’s problems may have been due to a looming deadline rather than Riazi’s writing, but that will only be revealed by reading her future work (and oh man, I hope this book gets a sequel). That, or the walrus who edited Cacy and Kiara somehow got involved.

A native Hawaiian woman in a red dress grabs her hair in frustration while looking at a stack of papers. There is a walrus wearing a hat sitting next to her. He has a goofy grin, unfocused eyes, and his tongue is hanging out with drool dripping from it. The exasperated woman yells “Wait, did you just submit this? It’s only the second draft, I wasn’t done editing it, why would you send this to production?!?” The walrus happily blows a raspberry. The woman scolds him “bad walrus, bad!”

I just assume all bad editing decisions are made by walruses.

Another issue with having a story that feels rushed is that there’s not enough time to get to know the characters, and the characters all seemed really interesting too! Well, except for Farah’s little brother, Ahmed. His character just seemed unnecessary and annoying. So, SO annoying. Like, D.W. from Arthur, but less entertaining. Farah and her friends could have just as easily gotten sucked into the game on their own, and there’s already enough suspense trying to survive and complete the challenges in Paheli that forcing Farah to try and find her little brother on top of that just seems excessive. It’s also hard to feel any sympathy for a character, when nearly every memory Farah has of her little brother involves him being obnoxious and bratty. So kudos to her. If I had to deal with Ahmed, I would’ve fed the little brat to a mechanical camel spider or whatever, or left his butt in the middle of the desert. But hey, that’s why I’m not a Y/A protagonist. Lucky for Ahmed, Farah has much more patience than I do.

I’m reclining on a red chaise longue, drinking from a crystal goblet and casually flipping through a magazine. I’m barefoot and wearing sunglasses, shorts, and a tank top. A child screams off screen “I’m being eaten by a giant spider, help!!!” To which I apathetically respond “Eh, I would… but that sounds like a lot of effort, plus it’s really hot and my back kind of hurts…” At this point the child yells “Ahhhhhhh!” and I complain “Ugh, why are you so noisy?”

I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Now, in all likelihood, my strong dislike of Ahmed is due to my own bias. I was the oldest of four, and I HATED taking care of my younger siblings with the fiery passion of a thousand blue giant stars (Y’know, because blue stars are hotter than our yellow sun? Look, if I had to learn all these useless facts then so do you!) To this day, I’d still rather get a root canal with a rusty drill from Dr. Szell (okay… no one in this book’s age group has seen that film, have they? I’m just vomiting random trivia at this point) than watch someone’s kid. So the idea of taking care of a bratty younger brother without being forced and not hating every minute of it is completely foreign to me. I mean, my version of “watching” my siblings was to basically go “Meh, there are enough of you that mom probably won’t miss one or two kids. I’m going to go take a nap.” (They all managed to survive to adulthood by the way.) So it’s more than possible my disbelief stems from not being able to relate to someone who’s actually a good older sister. But I still think Farah just has an unnatural amount of patience. Even Sara, from Labyrinth, wanted the Goblin King to take her baby brother, and he wasn’t nearly as annoying as Ahmed.Other than being weirdly tolerant of Ahmed, Farah is a pretty awesome character. She’s brave, resourceful, and incredibly clever, totally the kind of girl you’d want with you on a dangerous adventure. She acts as a balance between her friends, the impulsive Essie and the overly cautious Alex, the Ego to their Id and Superego. Finding good representations of Muslim characters in horror and fantasy is hard, which is sad considering Islam is one of the most widely practiced religions, and there are 3.3 million Muslims in the US alone. Seriously, do you know how hard it is to find a Muslim, Middle Eastern, or North African character in an English language horror novel? In fact, it’s nearly impossible to find Muslim main characters in fiction at all, unless the book is about war, forced marriage, or dealing with Islamaphobia. Not that these aren’t all serious issues worthy of being written about, but it seems unfair that that’s ALL there is. Why can’t Muslim kids enjoy fun, escapist fiction where they get to be the hero? Thank goodness Farrah is joining Ms. Marvel as another butt-kicking Muslim heroine in a genre that desperately needs them!Yes, the book has problems, but frankly, I don’t care. I freaking loved it. I wanted to get lost in the world of The Gauntlet, and the book left me craving more. I’m really looking forward to seeing more from the talented Ms. Riazi, and I sincerely hope she has a sequel in the works.

Tags: Asian, Bangladeshi, BIPOC, Book Review, Children, Cognitive/Learning Disability, Dark Fantasy, Demon, MENA, Own Voices, Recommended, South Asian

Bleeding Earth by Kaitlin Ward

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Adaptive Studios

Genre: Blood & Guts, Apocalypse/Disaster, Psychological Horror, Romance

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Lesbian characters, Hispanic/Latine character

Takes Place in: New Hampshire, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Bullying, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gore, Homophobia, Mental Illness, Racism, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Between Mother Nature and human nature, disasters are inevitable.

Lea was in a cemetery when the earth started bleeding. Within twenty-four hours, the blood made international news. All over the world, blood oozed out of the ground, even through the concrete, even in the water. Then the earth started growing hair and bones.

Lea wishes she could ignore the blood. She wishes she could spend time with her new girlfriend, Aracely, in public, if only Aracely wasn’t so afraid of her father. Lea wants to be a regular teen again, but the blood has made her a prisoner in her own home. Fear for her social life turns into fear for her sanity, and Lea must save herself and her girlfriend however she can.

Happy Pride month! Here’s something fun for queer horror fans, after Netflix accidently featured the Australian indie horror film, The Babadook, on their LGBT movie page, the titular creature has quickly become a Pride meme and it’s wonderful. If you haven’t seen the film, it’s awesome, go watch it.

A tall, dark, creepy creature with long fingers and a white face is wearing a top hat with a rainbow button, rainbow suspenders, a purple feather boa, sparkly pink flamingo glasses, and a belly shirt that says “Get Ready to be Babashook.”

Artwork by Muffin Pines at http://muffinpines.tumblr.com/

For June I’ll be reviewing two horror stories with queer characters, the first of which is Bleeding Earth. And oh man, did this book mess me up good. I was expecting a gory, end of the world sort of book, and instead I got a heartbreaking survival story about love, family, and humanity (yes I know how cheesy that sounds, shut up). It gave me so much anxiety, and so many emotions, and I’m still trying to process what the hell I just read. But I know it was good. It was really freaking good. And there was so much blood. Blood, and bones, and hair. I love blood. And bones. Not wads of hair though, I have my limits.

In the first caption I’m wearing a light pink dress and covered in blood. I’m clearly enjoying the blood dripping through my hair and down my shoulders because I’m smearing it on my ecstatic face while sighing “Mmmmmm, So much blood.” In the next panel I’m screaming “OH GROSS, HAIR!” in disgust and pulling away from a wad of bloody hair I’ve just noticed.

I was going for a “Carrie at the Prom” kind of look.

Lea, the novel’s protagonist and narrator, is enjoying the blossoming relationship she shares with her girlfriend, Aracely, when the blood first appears. Now, normally teen romances in dystopias and apocalyptic fiction seems tacked on and out of place. I mean, who worries about crushes when their life is on the line? But in Bleeding Earth, it works beautifully. Surrounded by chaos and despair, Lea wants to hold onto one of the few good things she has left to keep her going, because no one knows how long they have left. The girls are still in their honeymoon phase, so everything still feels wonderful and new, a sharp contrast to the reality around them. When Lea starts experiencing night terrors and hallucinations from stress and isolation, talking to her girlfriend on the phone is the only thing that helps her. And when she wants to give up, it’s Aracely that keeps her going. And I just can’t bring myself to begrudge her that one little bit of happiness. Who wouldn’t want to spend time with someone who makes you feel safe and lets you forget your problems for a while? It gave my cold, little heart all the feels.The scariest thing about Bleeding Earth isn’t the blood, hair, and bones seeping up from the ground. It’s the feeling of isolation, uncertainty, and powerlessness. At least with zombies, aliens, and diseases there’s always something you can do, a safe zone to flee to, a cure, an end in sight. But with the blood there’s nowhere to escape, no way to fight back, and no stopping the blood. No one knows what’s causing it, or if it will ever end. There are no answers or explanations to soothe the scared populace. And while I normally hate it when a story doesn’t give me an explanation, here it actually works. It’s so much more frightening when you don’t know what’s happening, and there’s literally nothing you can do about it. Will things get better? Is this the end of the world? Did humanity piss off the earth so much it’s finally rejecting them? Even at the start of the bleeding, when everyone is still doing their best to “keep calm and carry on,” fear is already causing people to take desperate actions. Lea’s mom obsessively measures their water and screams at her friends when they drink some, her father nails boards over all the windows so they’re in complete darkness, a man attacks Aracely with a bone over a breathing mask, and some jerks at an Apocalypse party try to get an inebriated girl to drink the blood. It starts with fights over tampons in the grocery store, then looting Home Depot, to violence and riots, and it only gets worse from there. Much, MUCH worse.Now, I know poor decision making seems to be a staple of Y/A fiction (one that annoys me to no end), but here, it makes sense. Everyone is absolutely terrified, struggling with isolation and the horror of what’s happening around them, while still trying their damnedest to pretend like everything is going to be fine. And scared, stressed people do not behave in a rational manner. At various points the teenagers in the story become so desperate for normalcy and human contact they’re willing to brave the blood and all its dangers just to be together. Is this a good idea? No, absolutely not. But is it understandable? Completely. Humans are social creatures, so much so that isolation can actually be deadly. And here’s the original research to back it up. I’m an introvert who prefers a quiet night at home, and even I felt stressed and nauseous when poor Lea described being trapped in her boarded up home for weeks on end, with little to no outside communication. Honestly, if I had to go through a bloodpocalypse, I probably would’ve snapped after a few hours indoors and gone blood hydroplaning (hemiaplaning?) in a stolen car while throwing human skulls at pedestrians. And that’s speaking as someone who willingly goes for days without human contact, I can’t imagine what a non-homebody extrovert would go through. So kudos to Lea for keeping it together as long as she did! If you’re probably going to die anyway, it’s better to die among friends and go out with a bang.

A close up of me driving a car through blood while leaning out the window. I’m holding a human skull out the window while waves of blood are being splashed up by the car. I’m dressed like one of the War Boys from Mad Max: Fury Road, with corpse pain covering my face. I gleefully shout “Oh what a day… What a lovely day!”

I showed this drawing to my wife, and now I’m not allowed to drive her car.

While I really enjoyed Bleeding Earth, it did have some problems that got to me, and kept me from giving it the full five stars. Like Lea’s dad. He learns that the mom has become unhinged, and Lea fears for their safety, but instead of going to help his wife and child, he tells his frightened daughter to get her unstable mom, slip through the looters and people willing to kill for water, and come to him. So of course a ton of horrible things happen because Lea can’t get her sick mother to leave the house, and her dad is apparently too lazy to drive the 40 minutes to help her. Like, I get they need everyone they can get to keep the power going, but for fuck’s sake man, you can take an hour to go rescue your wife and daughter. He’s just so frustratingly blasé about the whole thing. And then there were a bunch of weird little plot points that didn’t go anywhere. Like Lea’s hallucinations. Ingesting the blood is discovered to cause hallucinations, night terrors, lost time, and mental breaks. Lea starts to have horrible nightmares, imagining blood in the house, but it’s unclear if it’s an effect from the blood or the isolation. While she does spend part of the book questioning her sanity, and it’s definitely stressful and unsettling, it doesn’t really go anywhere. Was she infected by the blood? Yeah, we never get an answer for that one either.

A frightened teen is on the phone with her dad. “Hey, dad? Looters keep trying to get in the house, I haven’t seen the sun in over a week, and I think mom’s gone off the deep end and she’s possibly planning to kill someone. Could you come get us?” Her dad is seen doing Sudoku in his office and tells her “That’s nice honey, but I’m just swamped at work right now, can I call you back later? Tell your mom I said “Hi”. “Dad are you even listening!? Screw your work and get your ass back here!”

Hey, Sudoku IS work!

The lack of explanations will be a major turn off for a lot of readers, and I can understand that. But honestly, I didn’t feel like it was needed, because that really isn’t the point of the story. This isn’t a sci-fi novel with an omniscient narrator about a world-wide disaster. This is Lea’s story. It’s about her fears, her loneliness, her confusion, and her crush on Aracely. She’s terrified and frustrated because she doesn’t know what will happen, her parents can’t reassure her, and she just wants to be able to take comfort in something. It’s a sweet, sad story of survival, isolation, and just trying to enjoy a simple teen crush in a world that’s gone to hell.

Tags: Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Body Horror, Book Review, Eco Horror, Latine/Latino, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Psychological Horror, Recommended, Romance, Young Adult

The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike, translated by Deborah Boliver Boehm

Formats: Print

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Thriller

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Japanese characters

Takes Place in: Japan

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Forced Captivity

Blurb

A terrifying tale of a young family who move into an apartment building next to a graveyard and the horrors that are unleashed upon them.

One of the most popular writers working in Japan today, Mariko Koike is a recognized master of detective fiction and horror writing. Known in particular for her hybrid works that blend these styles with elements of romance, The Graveyard Apartment is arguably Koike’s masterpiece. Originally published in Japan in 1986, Koike’s novel is the suspenseful tale of a young family that believes it has found the perfect home to grow in to, only to realize that the apartment’s idyllic setting harbors the specter of evil and that longer they stay, the more trapped they become.

This tale of a young married couple who are harboring a dark secret is packed with dread and terror, as they and their daughter move into a brand new apartment building built next to a graveyard. As strange and terrifying occurrences begin to pile up, people in the building begin to move out one by one, until the young family is left alone with someone… or something… lurking in the basement. The psychological horror builds moment after moment, scene after scene, culminating with a conclusion that will make you think twice before ever going into a basement again.

Next up for Asian and Pacific American heritage month, is a new translation of Mariko Koike’s popular 1986 horror novel, The Graveyard Apartment.The Graveyard Apartment had a great premise; a married couple and their young daughter move into a haunted apartment near a cemetery and creepy shit keeps happening, but they’re unwilling to move due to their financial situation, societal pressure to appear normal, and the husband’s deep denial that anything is wrong. The book explores their feelings of emptiness and isolation and their struggle with their fears, both mundane and supernatural. But what should have been amazing ended up being very, well, “meh”. So how exactly does one manage to fuck up what should have been a fool proof haunted house formula?

To be completely fair, much of the awkward writing present in the English version could very well be due to translation problems. But unless the translator of The Graveyard Apartment pulled a 4KIDs Entertainment and just started making up random shit and cutting out half the story, there’s only so much you can blame on her. The problems with the book go far beyond a language barrier issue. The biggest setback is that half the story seems pointless (maybe the translator should have cut some of it out after all). Koike spends more time on random details, like what her main character, Misao, is wearing, than she does on the evil entity haunting the building. There’s even an entire chapter, later on in the book, dedicated to visiting a realtor’s office and looking at new apartments. Can you handle the terror as her husband, Teppei, walks their daughter to school? Shiver as the doomed couple look at rental listings within their budget!

A picture draw in the style of a vintage horror movie posters shows a Japanese woman with poofy, 80’s hair screaming in horror at a random assortment of leftovers (daikon radish, red bean paste, pickled umeboshi plums, lettuce, soy sauce, and mushrooms) in front of her. In creepy looking, dripping, front across the top it says “Witness the horror as Misao tries to make dinner with ‘The Random Leftovers!’

The story takes place in the 80’s so I tried to give her poofy 80’s hair. I was not successful.

And even when Koike does finally get to the creepy stuff, it’s a crapshoot whether or not it actually has anything do with the plot or just more random detailing. For example; early on in the book we discover Teppei’s first wife, Reiko, committed suicide because he was cheating on her with Misao. So you’d think that Reiko’s vengeful spirit would somehow be involved in the plot. Well, you’d be wrong. The suicide backstory serves no purpose other than highlighting what a remorseless dick Teppei is. We also learn that at one point there were plans to build an underground shopping center, but they were abandoned after the initial tunnel was built. So maybe the project disturbed the graves above and angered the spirits? Nope. The project was abandoned because people didn’t want the cemetery relocated, so the graves were pretty much left alone. Actually we never learn why the ghosts (or demons, or monsters, or whatever) are such huge assholes. Usually ghosts haunt the living because they’re pissed off about being murdered or moved, or having a Taco Bell built over their remains, but these entities just like to lock doors, mess with the elevators, and put handprints on the glass, because…. reasons. I dunno, maybe they just really hate whoever does the building maintenance, or they’re a bunch of drunk frat boys.

The comic shows the annoying ghost of a frat boy, sticking out his tongue and waking up another man by screaming “Woooo! Bro, let’s play some beer pong!” The ghost is muscular, holding a Solo cup, and is wearing a Polo shirt with a popped collar, a backwards baseball hat, and a Puka shell necklace. The man he has just woken up is shirtless, with two subcutaneous mastectomy scars on his chest. Irritated, he responds “Can’t you just rattle chains and make the lights flicker like a normal ghost?”

Not so much evil as incredibly irritating.

The story and characters are well written enough, it just isn’t scary. Well, except for the ending, where all the horror gets crammed into the last few chapters of the book. It’s like Koike suddenly went “Shit! I’ve got four chapters left, and the scariest things in the book so far are a creepy basement and being forced to into awkward social situations!” (Granted, awkward social situations are much scarier than any demonic entity). So then the ghosts (or demons, or whatever) go from mildly irritating to eldritch abominations with god damn superpowers and a lust for blood.Oh, and just as the story is starting to get scary and suspenseful? It finishes with a vague, open ending and we STILL don’t know what the fuck is wrong with the building! To top it off, the ending isn’t even part of the actual story, it’s a freaking epilogue! WHAT? There was all this slow buildup up for the most underwhelming payoff ever. Way to get my hopes up, Koike! Look, The Graveyard Apartment isn’t a bad book overall, which is why I didn’t knock it down to “not recommended”, it just doesn’t work as a haunted house story.

Tags: Adult, Asian, BIPOC, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, Japanese, Own Voices, Recommended, Thriller

Cacy & Kiara and the Curse of the Ki’i by Roy Chang

Formats: Print

Publisher: Beach House

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Thriller, Comedy, Myths and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: Asian American characters, Hapa characters, Native Hawaiian characters, Pacific Islander characters, Korean American Characters

Takes Place in: Hawai’i, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Bullying, Animal Death, Child Endangerment, Violence, Death

Blurb

Cacy and Kiara are sixth grade cousins who couldn’t be more different from each other. When their two schools take the same field trip to Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park, Cacy and Kiara are thrown into an adventure filled with mystery and murder.

In order to save the park–and themselves–from certain destruction, they call upon their family ‘aumäkua (personal gods), receive guidance from the Goddesses Hi‘iaka and Pele, and befriend the inhabitants of a secret Menehune village.

Throughout their adventure, they learn the power of their connection to ancient Hawai‘i and the importance of working together.

Over sixty manga-style illustrations accompany the story adding another layer of action to an already action-packed tale.

Happy Asian-Pacific American Heritage Month! With the recent popularity of Pokemon Sun and Moon, and Disney’s Moana, I figured I’d cover a Polynesian book this time. Luckily, I recently visited the big island of Hawaiʻi* with my wife (we were on our honeymoon, and as a newlywed I have to mention my marriage approximately 50,000 times) and made a stop at Basically Books while in downtown Hilo, because no honeymoon is complete without picking up a few scary stories at the local bookstore!

Of course I had to get something by Glen Grant and Rick Carroll, two of Hawaii’s most prominent horror authors, but I also picked up a children’s chapter book by a local comic artist, Roy Chang, entitled Cacy & Kiara and the Curse of the Ki’i. Although it’s much more of a crime thriller than straight horror, (though it does have its moments, like the ghostly hitchhiker *shudder*), I enjoyed it enough that I wanted to include it on the site. The story stars two 11-year-old cousins, the brave and brash Cacy, and the intelligent, yet aloof Kiara, who stumble upon a crime in progress and accidentally release the curse of a long forgotten idol. Now they’re in a race against time to undo the curse before Pele destroys the island in her anger. Oh, and they’re being chased by an international crime syndicate who wants the idol for themselves, just in case you thought things were too easy. Luckily the girls are aided on their adventure by the Menehune, ʻaumākua, and other figures from Hawaiian mythology.

When I first started reading Chang’s book, I thought it was self published. The entire thing was riddled with run-on sentences, awkward phrasing, grammatical errors, and even a few typos. But nope! Cacy & Kiara went through an actual publishing house, which means, presumably, there was some sort of a professional editing process. Though, in this case, “professional editing process” most likely means that they waited until the last minute, panicked, and decided to just run the manuscript through spell check. That, or someone accidentally hired a walrus in a hat and made them an editor. Granted, Beach House is a small publisher, but you’d think that would mean their projects would get more attention and care, not less.

A walrus, wearing a hat, is sitting at a desk with a mug that says “#1 EDTOR” with backwards letters. In front of the walrus two people are arguing. A man in a suit is scolding a Hawaiian woman “How dare you question Mr. Odobenus? He’s been with this company for years! The woman has her arms throw out in frustration and yells back “But sir, Mr. Odobenus doesn’t know the difference between simple past tense and present perfect tense, and he’s constantly forgetting to add commas! Plus, he’s a freaking walrus!”

Yeah, I’m going with the Walrus theory.

Poor editing aside, the book isn’t bad. It’s creative, humorous, and I love the concept behind it. But Chang is clearly a much better artist than author, used to telling his stories through images rather than words. His art is so full of energy and expression that it does a much better job at capturing his creative ideas than the long, awkward, blocks of text he writes. In all honestly, I’d love to see the story done as a graphic novel because the ideas behind it are solid, the action scenes captivating, and the characters of Cacy and Kiara are bursting with energy and life. It’d be interesting to compare his Steampunk comic book series, Highball and Pepe, with Cacy & Kiara and see which one does a better job at telling the story. But, Chang, for the love of all that is holy, please erase your pencil lines! It just makes the art look messy and unfinished. Maybe the editor just published the rough draft instead of waiting for the final product? Because his other artwork doesn’t seem to suffer from the same problem.

A picture of Mr. Odobenus, the walrus wearing a hat. He has a goofy grin on his face and is blowing a raspberry.

I think we all know who to blame here.

But, when I finally put down my red pen and stopped nitpicking, I really enjoyed the book. About halfway through I got caught up in the action and suspense, and the novel really hit its stride. It made me think of the awesome cartoons from the 80’s – sure the writing was absurd and hackneyed, and the animation was full of errors, but we didn’t care! The action, fun characters, and creativity is what made us love them, and what made such an impression on us as kids. I can just picture Cacy and Kiara teaming up with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or piloting a nēnē goose mecha. Honestly, the book is intended for kids, and most kids are not going to care about Oxford commas or the flow of dialogue when Kiara’s flying a giant owl and Cacy is trapped in a truck that’s about to explode.

A picture of the two characters from the story, Cacy and Kiara. Cacy, a husky girl with pigtails and a wide grin, is wearing a shirt and jeans, with a pink backpack and a bat swung over her shoulder. Next to Cacy is her slightly taller, slender, bespectacled cousin, Kiara. Kiara’s hair is cut in a bob, and she’s wearing a blue school uniform. Her arms are crossed and she’s holding a strange, remote-control-looking device.

I would so watch this cartoon.

Even better, Chang has made the story educational without being preachy, unlike some of our childhood favorites (looking at you Captain Planet). This would be an awesome book to hand to a kid before a visit to Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park, because learning about Hawaiian myths and ecology is a lot more fun when it involves high speed chases and international crime syndicates. There’s even a glossary of terms in the back (though I question why eruption was included but musubi wasn’t). Anyone familiar with the Big Island will be delighted to see references to popular locations such as Ken’s House of Pancakes, the Thurston Lava Tube, the Volcano House, and Pu`uhonua O Hōnaunau (all places I got to visit during my honeymoon). So, if you want to read an awesome adventure story about two spunky, tween girls, while learning about the big island of Hawai’i (and you’re not a huge grammarian) I would definitely recommend this book.

*At the time of writing this I didn’t realize how much tourism is hurting Hawaii, even before Covid and the water shortage, and how most Native Hawaiians don’t want people visiting their illegally occupied land.

Tags: Asian, Asian American, BIPOC, Book Review, Children, Chinese, Ghosts/Haunting, Horror Comedy, Japanese, Korean, Myths and Folklore, Native Hawaiian, Own Voices, Pacific Islander, Recommended, Thriller

A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts by Ying Chang Compestine

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Tumbling Dumpling Media

Genre: Monster, Killer/Slasher, Crime, Ghosts/Haunting, Psychological Horror, Blood & Guts, Historic Horror, Anthology

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Chinese and Chinese American characters

Takes Place in: China

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Physical Abuse, Animal Death, Animal Abuse, Child Endangerment, Child Death, Body shaming, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Cannibalism, Gore, Torture, Medical Torture, Violence, Death

There are many types of Chinese ghosts, including the spirits of deceased loved ones who may bring blessing and good fortune if properly honored, vengeful specters searching for those who wronged them in life, playful and troublesome spooks, and Hungry Ghosts, unhappy spirits with insatiable appetites. During the seventh month of the Chinese calendar, known as Ghost Month, the gates to hell are open and these spirits are able to cross over to the realm of the living. To avoid hauntings and misfortune, people will leave offerings of food in the hopes of appeasing the Hungry Ghosts who wander the streets at night. If these spirits are pleased with the food offered to them, they may leave the household in peace. But what if the Hungry Ghosts aren’t placated?

A skeletal-looking Japanese ghost with pale blue skin, flaming red hair, bulging eyes, and a distended belly is glaring at a Chinese woman who gave him a cookie and scolding "Is this Oatmeal Raisin? What is wrong with you? Raisins don't belong in cookies! You are soooo getting haunted now!" The woman yells "Nooooooooooooo!" in comical despair.

He’ll eat garbage, but he draws the line at oatmeal raisin.

He’ll eat garbage, but he draws the line at oatmeal raisin.Author Ying Chang Compestine explores both Chinese cuisine and angry spirits in her book, A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts. Ah, delicious food and gruesome horror, two of my favorite things! Admittedly, not things you’d usually think of combining, but hey, I’m not complaining. Each ghost story is dedicated to a food you might typically find in a traditional Chinese eight course banquet, and includes a recipe at the end. Okay, so maybe those with weaker stomachs may not want to try whipping up a batch of Tea Eggs right after reading about some poor guy getting disemboweled. But I’m the kind of person who can watch surgery videos while eating breakfast, so I wasn’t put off my appetite. If anything, the book made me crave cha siu bao the entire time. Oh, and by the way, the steamed dumpling recipe? Sooooooo good. I’ve got to try making the Jasmine Almond cookies next.

I'm reading "A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts" and exclaim in wonder "Woah, the inn keeper chopped people up and made them into dumplings!?" The next panel shows me biting my lip, looking conflicted, and saying "Damn it, now I want dumplings".

I also get hungry watching Hannibal. Don’t judge me.

In addition to recipes, each chapter also includes an afterword that expands on aspects of Chinese culture and history discussed in the story. There’s information on the rules of Mahjong, Mantis fighting, Qingming (Tomb Sweeping Day), the Cultural Revolution, and even anecdotes from Compestine’s own life growing up in China. Also ablation surgery, arsenic poisoning, and ancient Chinese tombs containing the victims of human sacrifice. Fun, right? Hey, it’s a book of scary stories after all, it’s to be expected. Every country has its share of atrocities from the past and present, and Compestine adds even more horror to her already spooky ghost stories by including some of China’s darker practices, such as illegal organ harvesting from prisoners and corruption at Buddhist monasteries. It’s actually quite clever how Compestine addresses certain Chinese social issues by turning them into ghost stories. At least in fiction, we get the satisfaction of seeing justice done, albeit by Hungry Ghost who enact terrible, and often gruesome vengeance.As horrific as I’ve made the book sound, it is actually intended for children. Like a more educational, Chinese, epicurean version of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, complete with its own gorgeous, creepy, black and white illustrations. I know the blood and guts may be too much for some children (though it’s not much worse than your standard German fairy tale or Roald Dahl story) but the gore is definitely going to appeal to others. Hey, whatever gets them to read, right? Plus, it’s educational, so that’s always good. Even adults will find the stories informative; while reading Banquet for Hungry Ghosts I frequently found myself running off to Google the construction of the Great Wall or Chinese medical practices.Although the overall stories were rich and interesting, the writing could be a little simplistic, which, unfortunately, I felt detracted from the horror and kept me from giving this book the four stars it otherwise would have earned. But, again, it is a kid’s book, and it’s difficult to write something that’s elegant, interesting, and easy to read. Children reading A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts are already going to have enough trouble trying to sound out “Hemorrhagic shock”, no need to make the writing too flowery and complex. So let’s just say I’d give the writing three stars for adults and four stars for kids.My only other complaint is that the author also tended to rely heavily on gore to create scares. Being gross and being scary are two different things, and you can’t just add blood to a story and expect it to be frightening. If that were true, I could just read a medical textbook to give myself nightmares.

A mother is reading to her son a "bed time story" out of a dull, dry, medical text book. She drones on about "an X-linked, recessive, genetic deficiency which affects the plasma clotting factor VIII, by either producing a dysfunctional version of the protein." Annoyed, the boy responds "Moooom! This isn't scary!"

What are you talking about kid? Hemorrhaging is terrifying.

Like any horror anthology, some stories are much better than others. “Tofu with Chili-Garlic Sauce”, “Steamed Dumplings”, and “Beef Stew” were all excellent. “Long-Life Noodles” and “Jasmine Almond Cookies”? Not so much. But overall this is still a great book, and the combination of ghost stories, history, and cuisine make a fun and unique combination. A must read for both young horror fans and foodies.

Tags: Anthology, Asian, BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Children, Chinese, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Killer/Slasher, Monster, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Recommended

Skeleton Man by Joseph Bruchac

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: HarperCollins

Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Crime, Monster, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: American Indian (Mohawk/ Kanien’kehá:ka) characters, Black character

Takes Place in: type here

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Endangerment, Cannibalism, Gaslighting

Please note, other Natives have brought into question Bruchac’s identity as Abenaki I will leave the review up for now, but can no longer reccomend this book.

I’m so used to getting my scares from more mature media I often forget how scary “kid friendly” horror fiction can be, and get completely caught off guard. Supposedly terrifying films like Jaws, The Blair Witch Project, and Poltergeist have all failed to phase me. But Return to Oz, a PG Disney film, still gives me nightmares. And don’t even get me started on the first time I saw Over the Garden Wall.

A comic that shows me lying on the couch watching TV. My offscreen friend says 'Over the Garden Wall is pretty creepy, maybe you shouldn't watch it alone at night' to which I respond 'Pfffft. It's a kid's show, how can it be scary?' The next panel shows an image of the TV screen with a scary clip from Over the Garden Wall where a dog-like monster with giant has its face close to the camera. I pause, staring at the screen with a frozen expression. In the next panel I'm hiding under a blanket, terrified, and trying not to cry.

For children!

The problem is, I seem to have selective memory when it come’s to being traumatized by children’s books and television. So of course, when I picked up the young adult book Skeleton Man, by Joseph Bruchach, my first thought wasn’t “Huh, R.L. Stein says this book gave him nightmares, this might actually be scary”. Nope. It was “Tch, kids books can’t frighten me! I’ve seen all the Alien movies!” “And hey” I mused, determined to keep up my string of poor decision making, “I might as well read the whole book at night, during a thunderstorm, when I’m home alone. That seems like a good idea. Yup.”This quick, suspenseful story stars Molly, a clever and resourceful Mohawk girl, who wakes up one day to discover her parents are missing. The police seem to have no leads about their disappearances, and Molly is sent to live with a sinister man who suddenly appears, claiming to be her uncle. Soon, the events in her life begin to parallel an old Mohawk tale about the Skeleton Man, until the legend seems to bleed into reality.While the fantastical elements in the story are creepy, the truly terrifying part was the apathy shown by most of the adults in the story towards Molly’s predicament. They completely disregarded her concerns because of her age, and placed her in a dangerous situation. The sense that she was alone, helpless, and ignored by those who were supposed to help and protect her was realistic enough to make my chest tighten in fear for her. Seriously, who hands a child off to some random stranger without a proper background check?

The first panel shows a closeup of a sketchy, clearly forged ID card that has a stick figure drawing taped on instead of a photo. The ID says "Molly's Uncle (totally not fake ID). The social worker examining it cheerfully responds "Yep, this checkes out!" to a creepy man whose face can't be seen. Molly, a young native girl, is unammused and responds with an annoyed "WHAT"

Pretty much what happened.

Thankfully, Molly does have one adult who listens her, her teacher, Ms. Shabbas, who provides both guidance and emotional support to the frightened young girl. Just knowing her teacher believes her and is there to help is enough to give Molly the courage to free herself and find her parents.The book reminded me a lot of Neil Gaiman’s Coraline, a creepy and atmospheric children’s story about a brave little girl who saves her parents from a monster. Except in Skeleton Man it’s never clear wether Molly’s monster is magic or mundane. And I like that. It leaves things open to interpretation and it’s a lot creepier if you don’t wether the villain is a creature from myth, or just an evil, greedy man. Either way, it’s a fun, quick, read, perfect for a dark and stormy night. Or in the middle of the day with all the lights on. You know, whichever.

Tags: African American, American Indian, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Children, Highly Recommended, Mohawk, Monster, Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Northeast Native Nations

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Shutter by Courtney Alameda

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Square Fish Books

Genre: Monster, Ghosts/Haunting, Zombie, Vampires, Blood & Guts, Thriller, Horror, Romance

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: POC (Love interest is part Aboriginal Islander, author is Latina), Disability (PTSD)

Takes Place in: type here

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Violence, Gore, Child Death, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Child Abuse, Sexism, Sexual Harassment/Assault, Torture

Blurb

Lock, stock, and lens, she’s in for one hell of a week.

Great teamwork there.

Forget the incredibly dramatic fight scene, let’s learn about trichromsticism!

I just imagine all annoying video game tutorials as being done by either Navi or the Microsoft Paperclip.

Tags: BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Disability, Ghosts/Haunting, Indigenous Australian, Latine/Latino, Mental Illness, Monster, Not for Me, PTSD, Romance, Thriller, Young Adult, Zombies

Everything I Know About Zombies I Learned in Kindergarten by Kevin Wayne Williams

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Mott Haven Books

Genre: Apocalypse/Disaster, Blood & Guts, Zombie

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black/African American/Caribbean American characters, Trinidad, Jamacian, Hispanic/Latinx characters

Takes Place in: New York City, USA

Blurb

While the cast of this novel is primarily children, the book is intended for adults and contains material unsuitable for younger readers.

Some of the kids enjoy killing a little too much.

I would not last long in an Apocalypse, or even a dead zone. How did I even function back in the 80’s?

Seriously, Jim Crow! WTF were you thinking Disney!?! At least they’re not as bad as Sunflower from Fantasia.

Tags: Adult, African American, Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Latine/Latino, Recommended, Zombies

Panic by Sharon Draper

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers

Genre: thriller

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: POC (Black, Asian American)

Takes Place in: Western USA

Blurb

From New York Times bestselling author Sharon Draper, this is a riveting exploration of power: how quickly we can lose it—and how we can take it back.

I mean, I’d let a kid read this, so I’m probably not the best judge…

Now I’m going to sit in my chair backwards to show you how “rad” I am.

Enjoy this image in your head.

Tags: African American, Asian American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Not for Me, Own Voices, Thriller, Young Adult

Girl, Stolen by April Henry

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Genre: Thriller

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Disability (Vision Impairment, Cognitive, Learning Disability)

Takes Place in: Oregon, USA

Blurb

Sixteen-year-old Cheyenne Wilder is sleeping in the back of the car while her step mom fills a prescription for antibiotics. Before Cheyenne realizes what’s happening, the car is being stolen.

How will Cheyenne survive this nightmare?

He’s salty because people keep accusing him of “faking” his blindness just because he can sort of see things six inches from his face with one of his eyes.

Speaking of blind ninjas, did you know Daredevil and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles share an origin story? It has nothing to do with Girl, Stolen, it’s just cool.

Other pet peeves of the visually impaired include the little stickers on fruit and people who ask them to guess who they are by their voice. Seriously, don’t do that.

Tags: Book Review, Cognitive/Learning Disability, Disability, Recommended, Thriller, Vision Impairment, Young Adult

The Gauntlet by Karuna Riazi

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Salaam Reads

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Demon

Audience: Children

Diversity: South Asian characters, Bangladeshi characters, Middle Eastern characters, character with a Cognitive/Learning Disability/ADHD

Takes Place in: New York City, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Endangerment, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Violence

Blurb

I just assume all bad editing decisions are made by walruses.

I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Tags: Asian, Bangladeshi, BIPOC, Book Review, Children, Cognitive/Learning Disability, Dark Fantasy, Demon, MENA, Own Voices, Recommended, South Asian

Bleeding Earth by Kaitlin Ward

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Adaptive Studios

Genre: Blood & Guts, Apocalypse/Disaster, Psychological Horror, Romance

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Lesbian characters, Hispanic/Latine character

Takes Place in: New Hampshire, USA

Blurb

Between Mother Nature and human nature, disasters are inevitable.

Artwork by Muffin Pines at http://muffinpines.tumblr.com/

I was going for a “Carrie at the Prom” kind of look.

I showed this drawing to my wife, and now I’m not allowed to drive her car.

Hey, Sudoku IS work!

Tags: Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Body Horror, Book Review, Eco Horror, Latine/Latino, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Psychological Horror, Recommended, Romance, Young Adult

The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike, translated by Deborah Boliver Boehm

Formats: Print

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Thriller

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Japanese characters

Takes Place in: Japan

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Forced Captivity

Blurb

A terrifying tale of a young family who move into an apartment building next to a graveyard and the horrors that are unleashed upon them.

The story takes place in the 80’s so I tried to give her poofy 80’s hair. I was not successful.

Not so much evil as incredibly irritating.

Tags: Adult, Asian, BIPOC, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, Japanese, Own Voices, Recommended, Thriller

Cacy & Kiara and the Curse of the Ki’i by Roy Chang

Formats: Print

Publisher: Beach House

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Thriller, Comedy, Myths and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: Asian American characters, Hapa characters, Native Hawaiian characters, Pacific Islander characters, Korean American Characters

Takes Place in: Hawai’i, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Bullying, Animal Death, Child Endangerment, Violence, Death

Blurb

Yeah, I’m going with the Walrus theory.

I think we all know who to blame here.

I would so watch this cartoon.

A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts by Ying Chang Compestine

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Tumbling Dumpling Media

Genre: Monster, Killer/Slasher, Crime, Ghosts/Haunting, Psychological Horror, Blood & Guts, Historic Horror, Anthology

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Chinese and Chinese American characters

Takes Place in: China

He’ll eat garbage, but he draws the line at oatmeal raisin.

I also get hungry watching Hannibal. Don’t judge me.

What are you talking about kid? Hemorrhaging is terrifying.

Tags: Anthology, Asian, BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Children, Chinese, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Killer/Slasher, Monster, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Recommended

Skeleton Man by Joseph Bruchac

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: HarperCollins

Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Crime, Monster, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: American Indian (Mohawk/ Kanien’kehá:ka) characters, Black character

Takes Place in: type here

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Endangerment, Cannibalism, Gaslighting

Please note, other Natives have brought into question Bruchac’s identity as Abenaki I will leave the review up for now, but can no longer reccomend this book.

For children!

Pretty much what happened.

Tags: African American, American Indian, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Children, Highly Recommended, Mohawk, Monster, Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Northeast Native Nations

Next Entries »

Navigation

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Search by Tags

To learn more about the Age Group, Diversity, and Genre tags, click here.