Diversity in Horror Fiction

Hoodoo by Ronald L. Smith

Hoodoo by Ronald L. Smith

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Clarion Books

Genre: Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Demon, Occult, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: BIPOC (Black, African American, Caribbean American)

Takes Place in: Alabama, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Bullying, Child Endangerment, Death, Illness, Racism, Physical Abuse 

Blurb

Twelve-year-old Hoodoo Hatcher was born into a family with a rich tradition of practicing folk magic: hoodoo, as most people call it. But even though his name is Hoodoo, he can’t seem to cast a simple spell.        

Then a mysterious man called the Stranger comes to town, and Hoodoo starts dreaming of the dead rising from their graves. Even worse, he soon learns the Stranger is looking for a boy. Not just any boy. A boy named Hoodoo. The entire town is at risk from the Stranger’s black magic, and only Hoodoo can defeat him. He’ll just need to learn how to conjure first.        

Set amid the swamps, red soil, and sweltering heat of small town Alabama in the 1930s, Hoodoo is infused with a big dose of creepiness leavened with gentle humor.

I really wanted to love this book. I really, really did. The cover art is dark and beautiful, the premise sounded right up my alley, the story is inspired by African-American folklore and oral traditions, the villain is genuinely creepy, the representation of Hoodoo feels authentic rather than sensationalized, and it’s a historical novel with a Black main character that isn’t about oppression and racism *gasp*. I was so hyped up for Hoodoo and ready to fall in love. And I will say, the ideas behind the story are great, I like the characters and I like the concept. The execution? Not so much.

Now Hoodoo  isn’t a bad book by any stretch, and I think part of the issue may have been that this is a story intended for kids, and I probably would’ve loved it a lot more if I were a child. The other problem was that I had incredibly high expectations going in, which would be hard to live up to, and that’s on me. It’s also important to note that my lukewarm feelings toward the story also seem to be in the minority: other reviews I’ve read have all been glowing endorsements, so I’m probably just being a grumpy, nit-picking potato. I still recommend checking it out, especially for young readers who love spooky stuff, it just wasn’t as amazing as I was hoping. I had a lot of issues with Hoodoo  that prevented me from enjoying the book as fully as I desired to.

For one thing, the pacing is all over the place. The villain doesn’t get enough of a buildup before his big reveal, and the ending feels rushed while other scenes dragged on, especially in the beginning. Unnecessary details got more focus than I felt they deserved. It’s a serious bummer when the final showdown between the villain and the hero is only a page or two long and he’s defeated with so much ease. Instead of driving forward, the plot just kind of wandered around aimlessly until it got distracted by something shiny. Characters and ideas were introduced then abandoned, appearing for one or two scenes before vanishing into the plot hole from which they came, never to be heard from again. It’s like Smith had written this long, epic story, but had to cut the book down to fit in a 200-page kids book, and he just randomly chose what to remove in last minute panic.

It’s annoying that otherwise interesting characters are reduced to one-scene wonders, but it’s even more annoying that their sole function is to drop solutions in Hoodoo ‘s lap any time he encounters an obstacle. This greatly minimizes the sense of danger, because every problem seems to get solved (whether for better or worse) almost immediately. Too bad the Fellowship of the Ring didn’t have this kid, it’d probably cut their travel time in half, Sean Bean might still be alive, and Sauron would’ve been taken out with one punch. I get that Deus Ex Machina is par for the course with these kinds of stories, but at least pretend the hero might not make it by building the suspense a little, or making them really work for a solution. It’s hard to feel like there’s anything at stake when a random talking crow or another seemingly random character swoops in to save the day without Hoodoo having to do much on his end. I guess that’s why he keeps stubbornly refusing his family’s help like a jerk, because his magic causes everything to just work out with minimal effort. At least, that’s what I assume it does since it’s never really explained how Hoodoo’s powers work other than some really vague hints.

Hoodoo can also be a pretty vexing narrator. He has a habit of defining random words and then ending his sentence with “If you didn’t know”. I know this is probably the most random, arbitrary nitpick, but while it was only mildly irritating the first half-dozen times, by the third chapter I could barely suppress my urge to scream and punch something every time Hoo Doo felt like he had to explain what Molasses or an Outhouse was, then end the sentence with “if you didn’t know”. I KNOW WHAT AN OUTHOUSE IS GET ON WITH THE STORY BEFORE I THROW YOU IN ONE. I get that the book is for kids, and they may not know what cracklin’ is, but I’m pretty sure most children who are capable of reading a chapter book are also able to perform a basic Google search or use a dictionary. And that’s assuming they can’t just figure out a word from context. I didn’t know what “Squirrel Nut Zippers” were before reading this (ironically the one thing Hoodoo didn’t feel like explaining) but I was still able to discern that he was talking about a sweet and not the swing band based on the context. And then I Googled it and learned that Squirrel Nut Zippers are a vanilla flavored caramel candy mixed with peanuts. So now I know that random bit of trivia and that Hoodoo likes gross candy. Maybe it was an attempt by Smith to make his character sounds more “natural” when he’s talking to the audience, but I felt like the narrative came to a screeching halt every time Hoodoo whipped out his annoying catchphrase. Maybe (probably) I’m just really, easily annoyed but all the “If you didn’t know”s were like nails on a chalkboard and distracted me from trying to enjoy the story.

And while I’m dumping on Hoodoo, here’s something else that made my hackles rise; while talking about his best friend, Bunny, he says “That’s what I liked about her. She wasn’t like the other girls at the schoolhouse. She did everything a boy did and some things even better.” Saying a girl “isn’t like other girls” isn’t an empowering compliment, you just insulted her entire gender and basically told her “wow, you don’t suck like all those other icky girls” in addition to implying that women who are more like men are somehow better. Seriously, don’t try and compliment a woman by putting other women down, or tell her “you’re not like other women, you’re more like a man”. Being masculine or feminine shouldn’t be a compliment or an insult, and people aren’t better or worse by being one or the other. Bunny is a pretty cool character and all, but I could have done without Hoodoo’s sexist comments (which are never called out in the story itself).

Despite all the pacing issues, and the protagonist’s exasperating habit of defining every piece of Soul Food he comes across (I KNOW what grits are, you don’t have to stop the story and tell me!!!!) there was still plenty to enjoy. Namely, that we get a piece of historic fiction with a Black protagonist that isn’t about racism or segregation. *gasp* Look, narratives about how poorly Black people have been treated (and are still treated) in this country are both important and necessary, and something every child should learn about. The ugliness of slavery, segregation, Jim Crow laws, and the history of racism that still exists in this country shouldn’t be glossed over, hidden, or worse, perpetuating the myth of the smiling slave and the benevolent slave owner (looking at you  A Birthday Cake for George Washington, you were published in 2016, you should know better), and I commend schools that teach kids about these issues. But, it’s still problematic when all the books about Black people focus only on segregation, slavery, and sports. Or, as librarian and author Scott Woods puts it, boycotts, buses, and basketball. That’s not all there is to Black culture and Black Americans!

Where are the stories where Black kids just have a fun adventure for the sake of a fun adventure? Where’s the escapist fiction and epic tales with the Black hero? Where are the biographies of black scientists, inventors, artists, and entrepreneurs? I tried to think of all the books with Black protagonists I was assigned in grade school, way back in the 90s (by my white teachers, in my mostly white school, where there were literally so few BIPOC that we all knew each other), and all I could remember reading was Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry in fourth grade. At first, I thought I just had a faulty memory, since I’m old and forget everything. I asked two of my siblings if they could recall any African American literature from our school days. My sister said “No, but I read Beloved in High School”, and my brother was pretty sure the teacher read the class “some picture book about Jackie Robinson”. So yeah, segregation, slavery and sports.  Apparently making us read one depressing story by a Black author during Black History Month was just enough to alleviate my grade school’s White guilt, and then they could all pat themselves on the back for being so woke.

Kids these days (Wow, I sound old) at least have the We Need Diverse Books campaign, and I’m glad for that. I would’ve killed to read a ghost story or a fairy tale with a Black protagonist when I was a child. And that’s what made me so happy about Hoodoo. It’s probably one of the few works of historical fiction (technically fantasy) I can think of that takes place in the Jim Crow south that isn’t entirely focused on oppression of the book’s characters. Hoodoo isn’t a victim, he’s the story’s hero, and he gets to fight the big, bad monster and save his loved ones. It’s a fun, spooky, escapist story with a character children can admire for his intelligence and bravery rather than athletic ability, and the reader gets to learn about Southern Black culture of the time period. There’s still racism lurking in the background, this is 1930’s Alabama after all, as is evident when Hoodoo and Bunny have to go to the carnival on the “colored folk’s” day, or when Hoodoo’s aunt has to go clean for rich, White people, it’s just not the focus of the story. Smith acknowledges that segregation, lynching, and other horrors were a part of life for Hoodoo and his family, and then he moves on with the plot because they’re so much more than just their oppression. Then we get a story of Hoodoo fighting the forces of evil with magic, learning about his past, and being awesome. This is the book every kid who was stuck with a white-washed reading list wished they could’ve read growing up. Despite all my complaining, I truly hope we haven’t heard the last of Hoodoo Hatcher.

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Caribbean American, Demon, Diversity 4, Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Myths and Folklore, Occult, Own Voices, Scariness 2, Writing 4
Hide and Seeker by Daka Hermon

Hide and Seeker by Daka Hermon

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Scholastic 

Genre: Demon, Monster, Psychological Horror

Audience: Children

Diversity: Black author and characters

Takes Place in: Tennessee, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Abuse, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Police Harassment 

Blurb

One of our most iconic childhood games receives a creepy twist as it becomes the gateway to a nightmare world.

I went up the hill, the hill was muddy, stomped my toe and made it bloody, should I wash it? Justin knows that something is wrong with his best friend. Zee went missing for a year. And when he came back, he was . . . different. Nobody knows what happened to him. At Zee’s welcome home party, Justin and the neighborhood crew play Hide and Seek. But it goes wrong. Very wrong. One by one, everyone who plays the game disappears, pulled into a world of nightmares come to life. Justin and his friends realize this horrible place is where Zee had been trapped. All they can do now is hide from the Seeker.

You’d think I’d eventually learn that kid’s media can be just as scary as horror aimed at adults. After all, Over the Garden Wall, Coraline, and Skeleton Man all managed to scar me permanently. And yet, I went into Hide and Seeker foolishly assuming that it would be tame in comparison to my usual horror fare. Well, boy was I wrong. This book was INTENSE. I mean, just look at that cover! Suddenly I was a child again, hiding under the covers from the monsters in the darkness but still unable to put the book down despite the nightmares I knew it would cause. I haven’t had a good scare like that in a while and it was absolutely wonderful. 

Over the Garden Wall — nightmare fuel for the whole family!

 

Jason is coping with the death of his mother and the disappearance of his best friend, Zee. Despite support from his sister and counselor he still struggles to accept her death and deal with his panic attacks (major kudos to Hermon for portraying an accurate depiction of panic attacks and anxiety). Then Zee reappears suddenly, covered in scars and speaking in riddles about a monster called the Seeker. What should be a joyous occasion quickly turns sour when children in the neighborhood start to disappear after a game of hide & seek. Jason and his friends Lyric and Nia soon learn that the kids were whisked away by the demonic Seeker to a place beyond their worst nightmares, and it looks like they’re next.

Of our trio of heroes, I’d have to say Nia is my favorite. She’s clever, rational, and despite her photographic memory and love of trivia she struggles with schoolwork. It was a nice change of pace to see the token “smart kid” suck at test taking and homework, a reminder that schoolwork is not an accurate measure of intelligence and ingenuity, and learning disabilities don’t mean you’re stupid. Nia uses her wits to help the kids out of more than one scrape and pushes her friends to be their best. She also knows enough about horror movie tropes to advise against splitting up the group. Nia is awesome. Not that Lyric or Jason are slouches. They’re fiercely loyal to each other, and it’s incredibly heartwarming. Even at their worst moments, the kids stick together and support their friends. 

This is the perfect book for kids who love Goosebumps and Stranger Things but are still too young for Stephen King and R-rated Slashers. Hermon is amazing at creating atmosphere and building terror without relying on blood and gore (there are minor injuries though, like bug stings, burns, and minor cuts). Her dialogue conveys the intensity of the situation without swearing. By implying Nowhere is a place where all your greatest fears become real and leaves its victims traumatized and covered in scars, our imaginations are able to come up with the worst possible scenarios. Not that Hermon leaves everything up to the reader’s imagination: there are plenty of giant bugs, living dolls, needles, and rat-snake hybrids to convey how truly terrifying Nowhere is.

Justin faces a lot of scary things, but racists and systemic oppression aren’t among them. It was nice to have a middle-grade book with a Black hero that didn’t deal with racism. Black folks already have to deal with racism All. The. Time. We deserve escapist stories where Black kids get to exist without having to worry about discrimination. Nic Stone, author of Dear Martin put it best in her article for Cosmopolitan:

“…I can’t help but wonder how different the world would look if we’d all grown up seeing Black people do the stuff White people did in books. Going on adventures. Saving the day. Falling in love. Solving mysteries. Dealing with a broken heart. Getting caught up in a riveting love triangle. Taking down oppressive regimes. (I mean, HELLO, a bunch of farm animals took down a dictatorial pig in a book that’s been on middle school curriculum lists for decades. Yet Black people can’t survive the first book in a dystopia trilogy?) What if we’d seen Black people in books just being human?”

The closest the book gets to dealing with racism is when the kids get harassed by a police officer while riding their bikes though a nice neighborhood. Ironically, it’s the one White kid in the group that hates cops the most due to his father being sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and he warns the others not to ask the police for help. And it’s such a nice change to see Black kids fighting make-believe monsters rather than real ones.

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Children, Demon, Highly Recommended, Monster, Psychological Horror
How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: The Roadrunner Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting,  Historic Horror, Werebeast (Were-Panther/Nagual)

Audience: Children

Diversity: American Indian (Choctaw)

Takes Place in: Choctaw Nation, Mississippi, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Illness, Kidnapping, Oppression, Physical Abuse, Racism, Self-Harm, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Told in the words of Isaac, a Choctaw boy who does not survive the Trail of Tears, HOW I BECAME A GHOST is a tale of innocence and resilience in the face of tragedy. From the book’s opening line, “Maybe you have never read a book written by a ghost before,” the reader is put on notice that this is no normal book. Isaac leads a remarkable foursome of Choctaw comrades: a tough-minded teenage girl, a shape-shifting panther boy, a lovable five-year-old ghost who only wants her mom and dad to be happy, and Isaac s talking dog, Jumper. The first in a trilogy, HOW I BECAME A GHOST thinly disguises an important and oft-overlooked piece of history.

I was looking through the kid’s section of the library (before I get kicked out for being the creepy adult with no children) when I stumbled upon Tim Tingle’s How I Became a Ghost. The title intrigued me, I’m always looking for books by minority authors, and I loved the cover. Then I noticed the fine print: A Choctaw Trail of Tears Story. Tingle’s book is not a simple ghost story for kids, but an important work of historical fiction about the horrors of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, which illegally forced the Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, Seminole, and Cherokee from their homes and resulted in the death of thousands of American Indians.

A dark-skinned father is walking with his light-skinned young son and holding his baby. They are in a children’s library full of brightly colored bookshelves and posters for “We Need Diverse Books Poster” and “Catch the Flesh Eating Reading Bacterium”. I’m hiding in one of the bookshelves like a gremlin, hissing. The boy asks his father “Daddy, what is that weird lady doing in the children’s library by herself?” The father, unconcerned, responds “Just keep walking and don’t make eye contact sweetie.”

I decided to draw a background for this picture, and quickly remembered why I hate drawing backgrounds. These are all real children’s book covers by the way. I also sneaked in a “Welcome to Night Vale” reference.

How I Became a Ghost is not a “fun” kind of scary story (though there are plenty of humorous moments- more on that later) where you can easily brush away your fear because you know it’s a work of pure fiction. The characters in the book may be fictional, but this is still a book based on true events, that caused a great deal of death, suffering, and the loss of ancestral homeland. The first half of the book is based on the real-life experiences of John Carnes, Tingle’s great-great-grandfather, who was forced to walk the Trail of Tears along with his family and lost his mother and brother to exposure and disease during their forced relocation. Tingle first recorded his account of Carnes’ life in the short story Trail of Tears for his anthology book, Walking the Choctaw Road, and would later use it as inspiration for writing How I Became a Ghost.

Tingle doesn’t shy away from descriptions of the Choctaw people cutting their flesh in mourning, being burned alive in their homes, dying from small pox infected blankets, and of course, children dying. Pretty rough stuff, but I think kids can handle it, Tingle does a great job of educating his audience about the Trail of Tears, while still keeping the content age appropriate. And as Shelley A. Welch, an Eastern Cherokee woman, wrote in her guest post for the blog American Indians in Children’s Literature:  “Some teachers will say that historical realities are too heavy for young children. Actually, it seems to be the adults that shy away from those topics …. who don’t seem to want to let go of American myths of ‘friendship and good will’ between the first settlers and the Indigenous people, a People who were once the majority and are now the smallest minority…. I can say that when children are told that one group bullied another, they are quite amazing peacemakers, acknowledging the breach of civil rights and offering cooperative resolutions. It is true, elementary-aged students aren’t developmentally ready for the specifics of genocide, but they can understand the inhumanity of racism. ” In other words, this book is loads better for children than all those Thanksgiving stories that propagate the lie of the “smiling (Wampanoag) Indian“. For kids who would prefer a non-fictional account of the Trail of Tears, there’s also Joseph Bruchac’s (author of Skeleton Man) children’s book that he wrote for the Step-Into-Reading series. But I think there’s something to be gained from reading a more personal (albeit fictional) account when learning about history. How I Became a Ghost also educates readers about Choctaw (Chahta) culture, spirituality, vocabulary, and even has a ghostly cameo from Chief Pushmataha.How I Became a Ghost is posthumously narrated by a ten-year-old Choctaw boy named Isaac. Isaac frequently brings up his impending death, so you spend the first two thirds of the story on edge, wondering when his time will come. At first, he’s plagued by visions of other Choctaw people dying, but eventually Isaac comes to terms with his own mortality and seems to accept it, though he does worry about how his family will react. I guess when you’re surrounded by death and you know the end is coming you start to feel pretty chill about the whole thing. There are plenty of scary moments for horror lovers, a teenage girl being abused by soldiers then hiding in the bonepickers‘ wagon, under a pile of bloody bones, stands out in particular.

For a story that’s written so simply (to make it easy for young readers) How I Became a Ghost leaves quite the impact.  Something about the plain, straightforward way Isaac describes the trail of bloody footprints he leaves behind or the parents carrying their dead child really stays with you. Not everything is dark and depressing however, Tingle adds plenty of humor and hope to his book, like Isaac’s father pretending to be a snow monster and playfully chasing his sons, the other family they befriend on the Trail of Tears, and one of the Choctaw elders teasing Isaac for his clumsiness as a ghost. As a bonus, these scenes also shatter the myth of the “humorless, serious Indian” that’s frequently perpetuated by Euro-American media. I never felt like I was reading a “sad” story, more a story of survival. The ending of Isaac’s life, while tragic, is not the end of his spirit, and he continues to help and guide his friends and family as a ghost. When he dies, Isaac is cheerfully welcomed into the afterlife by the other spirits (shilombish) who continue to watch over their loved ones. Like the Choctaw Nation, Isaac continues to persevere, albeit in a different form, despite all he has suffered and lost.

I do have a few nitpicks, because of course I do, but they’re all pretty minor. Isaac’s cause of death felt like a really odd choice to me. *Spoilers* He’s killed by a wolf, even though wolves killing humans are extremely rare, and even then almost always carried out by a pack of wolves rather than a lone individual. In other words, Isaac would have had a greater chance of being killed by a lightning strike than a wolf attack. So why not have him die another, less improbable way? *End Spoilers* The whole thing seemed random and highly unlikely, though Tingle may have just chosen to take artistic license for the sake of the plot. Isacc’s dog, Jumper, also confused me. He seemed to be able to speak, but it wasn’t clear if Jumper could actually talk, or if Isaac just imagined his responses, like I do with my cats (don’t judge me). I think it’s the latter, since no one else appears to be able to “hear” Jumper, but it’s never really explained. So, there’s just this random talking dog that doesn’t really serve a purpose story-wise except to be adorable (not that I’m going to complain about a good dog, dogs make everything better).

In the first panel, I’m cheerfully talking to a short-haired tortoise-shell cat and voicing her responses: “Hi Kitty! You’re so cute and fuzzy! Cute, fuzzy, kitty butt!” “Meow, go away, I don’t like you.” “Oh kitty, why are you such a grumpy grump?” In the second panel I look less thrilled as the cat ignores me and “asks” “Why are you such a loser?” “Kitty that’s not nice!” “It’s true though! And you have a butt face and no friends and you smell.” In the last panel I’m crying while the cat purrs happily.

Cats are jerks.

There’s also a kind of odd character introduction halfway through the story, with the appearance of Joseph the were-panther. Apparently, Isaac already knows Joseph from his village, it’s just that no one bothered to mention his existence or wonder where he was prior to that point in the story, not even his own grandparents who were introduced in the first few chapters. Well, I guess it’s nice that this guy we had absolutely no knowledge of previously managed to survive? It’s also odd that Joseph turns into a black panther, and not a cougar (which is also known as a panther), a large cat that’s native to North America. At first I assumed the black panther on the cover was a stylistic choice, until Tingle describes Joseph’s feline form as having a black coat. Melanistic color variants only occur in leopards and jaguars, not cougars, and jaguars wouldn’t be found so far north. They do sometimes wander into New Mexico and Arizona, and there were even reports of jaguars in California during the 1800s (leopards are located on an entirely different continent), but having one appear in Mississippi seemed unlikely. At first I thought Joseph might be half Aztec or Olmec, since Tingle doesn’t reveal anything about his parents and both Indigenous groups have stories about people who can turn into jaguars. But it’s also likely that black, shape-shifting cougars are a part of Choctaw theology that I’m just not familiar with. Black panthers also make appearances in Tim Tingle’s House of Purple Cedar and Caleb, the latter of his works, also about a shape-shifting boy. I did try to do some further research into the matter, but with all the false information out there regarding American Indian beliefs, spirituality, and legends I wasn’t able to come up with much. There also seem to be a lot of legends in Mississippi about black panthers. Who knows?Sorry, I went off on a weird tangent there…

I’m sitting cross-legged on the ground, reading a copy of “How I Became a Ghost”. A black panther is standing behind me and reading over my shoulder. I complain “Cougars don’t have melanistic color variants!” The panther responds “You realize no one but you cares, right?”

I get really caught up on weird details, you’d think I’d be more concerned about the panther reading over my shoulder, but nope.

The writing may feel a little childish for adults and older readers, and not necessarily something I’d recommend for people in that age group (instead I’d suggest Tingle’s original Trail of Tears story, which is similar to How I Became a Ghost, but aimed at older readers and non-fictional), but kids will definitely get a kick out of the story and the epic rescue mission staged by Issac and his panther friend, and it will hopefully pique their interest in history and the Choctaw Nation. I know I’ll certainly be interested in checking out the sequel, When A Ghost Talks, Listen, when it’s released.

Tags: American Indian, BIPOC, Book Review, Children, Choctaw, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Own Voices, Southeast Native Nations, Werebeast
The Jumbies by Tracey Baptiste

The Jumbies by Tracey Baptiste

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Algonquin Young Readers

Genre: Monster, Myths and Folklore, Supernatural

Audience: Children

Diversity: Afro-Tobagonian and Indo-Tobagonian characters, Character with Speech Disorder (selective mutisim)

Takes Place in: Trinidad and Tobago

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Endangerment, Death

Blurb

Corinne La Mer claims she isn’t afraid of anything. Not scorpions, not the boys who tease her, and certainly not jumbies. They’re just tricksters made up by parents to frighten their children. Then one night Corinne chases an agouti all the way into the forbidden forest, and shining yellow eyes follow her to the edge of the trees. They couldn’t belong to a jumbie. Or could they?

When Corinne spots a beautiful stranger at the market the very next day, she knows something extraordinary is about to happen. When this same beauty, called Severine, turns up at Corinne’s house, danger is in the air. Severine plans to claim the entire island for the jumbies. Corinne must call on her courage and her friends and learn to use ancient magic she didn’t know she possessed to stop Severine and to save her island home.

I spent part of my childhood in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, where I frequently heard scary stories about Jumbies, the spirits that haunt the Caribbean. There were the Douens with their backwards feet and wide straw hats, the glowing eyes of the La Diablesse, and Duppies that could be kept away with salt. And while it was enough to give me nightmares as a child, being able to read a book that contained all these creepy creatures from my youth was nostalgic and wonderful.

A water color painting of two young, dark skinned girls in the Caribbean. The first girl is dressed in a green dress and a wide, green hat, and she is stepping out of the forest. Her eyes are too big and glow orange, and she smiles wickedly. The other girl, who is human, wears an orange dress and has her hands up in fear as she backs away.

Thanks for the childhood nightmares Tales of the Caribbean (published by the Wright Group)

The Jumbies is based on the Haitian fairytale, the Magic Orange Tree, and contains underlying themes of colonization, the clash of two cultures, and environmentalism. But if you’re worried about helpless princesses and ham-handed messages about not littering, never fear, Tracey Baptiste is far too talented an author to create some sort of terrible Snow White/Ferngully mishmash. Sure, there are still plenty of fun fantasy tropes, monsters, magic, and the dead mom cliché (because that’s apparently some sort of requirement for heroines in fairy tales) but there’s also a lovely lack of distressed damsels, one dimensional villains, and black and white morality. Baptiste doesn’t try to feed her young readers any sort of over-simplified nonsense about how good people are pure and beautiful and only capable of doing good things. Instead, the characters are complicated and flawed, and right and wrong aren’t always clear cut.

Five Disney heroines, Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, Ariel, and Jasmine, are having a tea party, with Corinne sitting in the middle. Over them, a banner reads “Dead Mom’s Club”. Belle exclaims “Très bon travail Corrine!” Ariel asks “Wow, you stopped the witch by yourself? My boyfriend had to save me!” and Jasmine comments “My dad was hypnotized too, by an evil guy with a snake staff.”

Okay, but seriously, what does Disney have against moms?

The main character, Corinne, is a young girl who lives with her father at the edge of a Jumbie-filled forest. Her mother died when she was very young but she left her daughter three very special gifts, her necklace, an orange tree, and a gift for growing things. Predictably, Corinne must use all three to discover the truth about herself and fight the evil threatening her home. And let me tell you, I wish I was as awesome as Corinne. She’s smart, self-sufficient, and incredibly brave. In the original fairy tale on which The Jumbies is based, the protagonist is a passive character that things just sort of happen to, but Corrine is proactive about her dire situation, and willing to fight the monsters herself instead of waiting for rescue. The helpless heroines in tales of old don’t hold a candle to the courageous Corinne. And let’s be honest “wait and hope things get better” is not the greatest message to give to kids. Don’t wait to be saved, rescue yourself.

Corrine, wearing her father’s oversized shirt, proudly tells me “Yeah, I just defeated a bunch of monsters, rescued my dad from an evil enchantress, and saved the whole island, no big deal.” Looking sheepish, I respond, “I called the doctor’s office and made an appointment all by myself…”

There’s nothing that makes me feel more inadequate than a kid 20 years my junior who’s tougher than I am.

That isn’t to say Baptiste is telling the reader to only rely on themselves. As tough as Corrine is, sometimes she needs the aid of her friends, in this case a pair of mischievous orphan brothers, Bouki and Malik, and a shy young girl named Dru. They pull her up at her lowest moment, and stand by her side when she confronts Severine. It’s a nice balance. Corrine is brave and independent, but is still able to rely on others when she needs to, while Dru, the girly-girl to Corrine’s tomboy, is shy and timid, without being weak and helpless, and learns to be braver and more independent. She may not want to handle scorpions or run into the forest by herself, but Dru’s still far from being a distressed damsel. Then there’s Bouki and Malik, who are used to relying only on each other but learn that getting help from others is a sign of strength, not weakness.

Interestingly, most of the Jumbies aren’t portrayed as being good or evil, they simply want to protect their forest home from the humans who’ve invaded it. But unlike more heavy-handed environmental stories, Baptiste takes a more nuanced approach, and doesn’t paint these issues as black and white. Think more Lorax (the book, not the film) less Captain Planet. The humans aren’t evil, selfish, or greedy, but they’re still destroying the forest homes of the Jumbies who’ve lived there for thousands of years. Nor are the Jumbies evil per se, they just want to protect their home from the human invaders. Even Severine, the big bad of the story, isn’t completely unsympathetic. As evil as she is, she clearly loved her dear sister and is hurting from her loss. Severine is lashing out for a reason, and while it by no means justifies the terrible things she does, it at least explains them.

This book is perfect for younger kids who are tired of Cinderella and Snow White, and like their stories a little spooky. It has a strong female lead, fighting to protect her father and her home, a cast of fun supporting characters, and one truly creepy villain.

Tags: Afro-Tobagonian, Asian, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Caribbean, Children, Disability, Indian, Indo-Tobagonian, Monster, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Recommended
The Gauntlet by Karuna Riazi

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

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

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

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, Own Voices

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Hoodoo by Ronald L. Smith

Hoodoo by Ronald L. Smith

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Clarion Books

Genre: Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Demon, Occult, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: BIPOC (Black, African American, Caribbean American)

Takes Place in: Alabama, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Bullying, Child Endangerment, Death, Illness, Racism, Physical Abuse 

Blurb

Twelve-year-old Hoodoo Hatcher was born into a family with a rich tradition of practicing folk magic: hoodoo, as most people call it. But even though his name is Hoodoo, he can’t seem to cast a simple spell.        

Then a mysterious man called the Stranger comes to town, and Hoodoo starts dreaming of the dead rising from their graves. Even worse, he soon learns the Stranger is looking for a boy. Not just any boy. A boy named Hoodoo. The entire town is at risk from the Stranger’s black magic, and only Hoodoo can defeat him. He’ll just need to learn how to conjure first.        

Set amid the swamps, red soil, and sweltering heat of small town Alabama in the 1930s, Hoodoo is infused with a big dose of creepiness leavened with gentle humor.

I really wanted to love this book. I really, really did. The cover art is dark and beautiful, the premise sounded right up my alley, the story is inspired by African-American folklore and oral traditions, the villain is genuinely creepy, the representation of Hoodoo feels authentic rather than sensationalized, and it’s a historical novel with a Black main character that isn’t about oppression and racism *gasp*. I was so hyped up for Hoodoo and ready to fall in love. And I will say, the ideas behind the story are great, I like the characters and I like the concept. The execution? Not so much.

Now Hoodoo  isn’t a bad book by any stretch, and I think part of the issue may have been that this is a story intended for kids, and I probably would’ve loved it a lot more if I were a child. The other problem was that I had incredibly high expectations going in, which would be hard to live up to, and that’s on me. It’s also important to note that my lukewarm feelings toward the story also seem to be in the minority: other reviews I’ve read have all been glowing endorsements, so I’m probably just being a grumpy, nit-picking potato. I still recommend checking it out, especially for young readers who love spooky stuff, it just wasn’t as amazing as I was hoping. I had a lot of issues with Hoodoo  that prevented me from enjoying the book as fully as I desired to.

For one thing, the pacing is all over the place. The villain doesn’t get enough of a buildup before his big reveal, and the ending feels rushed while other scenes dragged on, especially in the beginning. Unnecessary details got more focus than I felt they deserved. It’s a serious bummer when the final showdown between the villain and the hero is only a page or two long and he’s defeated with so much ease. Instead of driving forward, the plot just kind of wandered around aimlessly until it got distracted by something shiny. Characters and ideas were introduced then abandoned, appearing for one or two scenes before vanishing into the plot hole from which they came, never to be heard from again. It’s like Smith had written this long, epic story, but had to cut the book down to fit in a 200-page kids book, and he just randomly chose what to remove in last minute panic.

It’s annoying that otherwise interesting characters are reduced to one-scene wonders, but it’s even more annoying that their sole function is to drop solutions in Hoodoo ‘s lap any time he encounters an obstacle. This greatly minimizes the sense of danger, because every problem seems to get solved (whether for better or worse) almost immediately. Too bad the Fellowship of the Ring didn’t have this kid, it’d probably cut their travel time in half, Sean Bean might still be alive, and Sauron would’ve been taken out with one punch. I get that Deus Ex Machina is par for the course with these kinds of stories, but at least pretend the hero might not make it by building the suspense a little, or making them really work for a solution. It’s hard to feel like there’s anything at stake when a random talking crow or another seemingly random character swoops in to save the day without Hoodoo having to do much on his end. I guess that’s why he keeps stubbornly refusing his family’s help like a jerk, because his magic causes everything to just work out with minimal effort. At least, that’s what I assume it does since it’s never really explained how Hoodoo’s powers work other than some really vague hints.

Hoodoo can also be a pretty vexing narrator. He has a habit of defining random words and then ending his sentence with “If you didn’t know”. I know this is probably the most random, arbitrary nitpick, but while it was only mildly irritating the first half-dozen times, by the third chapter I could barely suppress my urge to scream and punch something every time Hoo Doo felt like he had to explain what Molasses or an Outhouse was, then end the sentence with “if you didn’t know”. I KNOW WHAT AN OUTHOUSE IS GET ON WITH THE STORY BEFORE I THROW YOU IN ONE. I get that the book is for kids, and they may not know what cracklin’ is, but I’m pretty sure most children who are capable of reading a chapter book are also able to perform a basic Google search or use a dictionary. And that’s assuming they can’t just figure out a word from context. I didn’t know what “Squirrel Nut Zippers” were before reading this (ironically the one thing Hoodoo didn’t feel like explaining) but I was still able to discern that he was talking about a sweet and not the swing band based on the context. And then I Googled it and learned that Squirrel Nut Zippers are a vanilla flavored caramel candy mixed with peanuts. So now I know that random bit of trivia and that Hoodoo likes gross candy. Maybe it was an attempt by Smith to make his character sounds more “natural” when he’s talking to the audience, but I felt like the narrative came to a screeching halt every time Hoodoo whipped out his annoying catchphrase. Maybe (probably) I’m just really, easily annoyed but all the “If you didn’t know”s were like nails on a chalkboard and distracted me from trying to enjoy the story.

And while I’m dumping on Hoodoo, here’s something else that made my hackles rise; while talking about his best friend, Bunny, he says “That’s what I liked about her. She wasn’t like the other girls at the schoolhouse. She did everything a boy did and some things even better.” Saying a girl “isn’t like other girls” isn’t an empowering compliment, you just insulted her entire gender and basically told her “wow, you don’t suck like all those other icky girls” in addition to implying that women who are more like men are somehow better. Seriously, don’t try and compliment a woman by putting other women down, or tell her “you’re not like other women, you’re more like a man”. Being masculine or feminine shouldn’t be a compliment or an insult, and people aren’t better or worse by being one or the other. Bunny is a pretty cool character and all, but I could have done without Hoodoo’s sexist comments (which are never called out in the story itself).

Despite all the pacing issues, and the protagonist’s exasperating habit of defining every piece of Soul Food he comes across (I KNOW what grits are, you don’t have to stop the story and tell me!!!!) there was still plenty to enjoy. Namely, that we get a piece of historic fiction with a Black protagonist that isn’t about racism or segregation. *gasp* Look, narratives about how poorly Black people have been treated (and are still treated) in this country are both important and necessary, and something every child should learn about. The ugliness of slavery, segregation, Jim Crow laws, and the history of racism that still exists in this country shouldn’t be glossed over, hidden, or worse, perpetuating the myth of the smiling slave and the benevolent slave owner (looking at you  A Birthday Cake for George Washington, you were published in 2016, you should know better), and I commend schools that teach kids about these issues. But, it’s still problematic when all the books about Black people focus only on segregation, slavery, and sports. Or, as librarian and author Scott Woods puts it, boycotts, buses, and basketball. That’s not all there is to Black culture and Black Americans!

Where are the stories where Black kids just have a fun adventure for the sake of a fun adventure? Where’s the escapist fiction and epic tales with the Black hero? Where are the biographies of black scientists, inventors, artists, and entrepreneurs? I tried to think of all the books with Black protagonists I was assigned in grade school, way back in the 90s (by my white teachers, in my mostly white school, where there were literally so few BIPOC that we all knew each other), and all I could remember reading was Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry in fourth grade. At first, I thought I just had a faulty memory, since I’m old and forget everything. I asked two of my siblings if they could recall any African American literature from our school days. My sister said “No, but I read Beloved in High School”, and my brother was pretty sure the teacher read the class “some picture book about Jackie Robinson”. So yeah, segregation, slavery and sports.  Apparently making us read one depressing story by a Black author during Black History Month was just enough to alleviate my grade school’s White guilt, and then they could all pat themselves on the back for being so woke.

Kids these days (Wow, I sound old) at least have the We Need Diverse Books campaign, and I’m glad for that. I would’ve killed to read a ghost story or a fairy tale with a Black protagonist when I was a child. And that’s what made me so happy about Hoodoo. It’s probably one of the few works of historical fiction (technically fantasy) I can think of that takes place in the Jim Crow south that isn’t entirely focused on oppression of the book’s characters. Hoodoo isn’t a victim, he’s the story’s hero, and he gets to fight the big, bad monster and save his loved ones. It’s a fun, spooky, escapist story with a character children can admire for his intelligence and bravery rather than athletic ability, and the reader gets to learn about Southern Black culture of the time period. There’s still racism lurking in the background, this is 1930’s Alabama after all, as is evident when Hoodoo and Bunny have to go to the carnival on the “colored folk’s” day, or when Hoodoo’s aunt has to go clean for rich, White people, it’s just not the focus of the story. Smith acknowledges that segregation, lynching, and other horrors were a part of life for Hoodoo and his family, and then he moves on with the plot because they’re so much more than just their oppression. Then we get a story of Hoodoo fighting the forces of evil with magic, learning about his past, and being awesome. This is the book every kid who was stuck with a white-washed reading list wished they could’ve read growing up. Despite all my complaining, I truly hope we haven’t heard the last of Hoodoo Hatcher.

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Caribbean American, Demon, Diversity 4, Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Myths and Folklore, Occult, Own Voices, Scariness 2, Writing 4
Hide and Seeker by Daka Hermon

Hide and Seeker by Daka Hermon

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Scholastic 

Genre: Demon, Monster, Psychological Horror

Audience: Children

Diversity: Black author and characters

Takes Place in: Tennessee, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Abuse, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Police Harassment 

Blurb

One of our most iconic childhood games receives a creepy twist as it becomes the gateway to a nightmare world.

I went up the hill, the hill was muddy, stomped my toe and made it bloody, should I wash it? Justin knows that something is wrong with his best friend. Zee went missing for a year. And when he came back, he was . . . different. Nobody knows what happened to him. At Zee’s welcome home party, Justin and the neighborhood crew play Hide and Seek. But it goes wrong. Very wrong. One by one, everyone who plays the game disappears, pulled into a world of nightmares come to life. Justin and his friends realize this horrible place is where Zee had been trapped. All they can do now is hide from the Seeker.

You’d think I’d eventually learn that kid’s media can be just as scary as horror aimed at adults. After all, Over the Garden Wall, Coraline, and Skeleton Man all managed to scar me permanently. And yet, I went into Hide and Seeker foolishly assuming that it would be tame in comparison to my usual horror fare. Well, boy was I wrong. This book was INTENSE. I mean, just look at that cover! Suddenly I was a child again, hiding under the covers from the monsters in the darkness but still unable to put the book down despite the nightmares I knew it would cause. I haven’t had a good scare like that in a while and it was absolutely wonderful. 

Over the Garden Wall — nightmare fuel for the whole family!

 

Jason is coping with the death of his mother and the disappearance of his best friend, Zee. Despite support from his sister and counselor he still struggles to accept her death and deal with his panic attacks (major kudos to Hermon for portraying an accurate depiction of panic attacks and anxiety). Then Zee reappears suddenly, covered in scars and speaking in riddles about a monster called the Seeker. What should be a joyous occasion quickly turns sour when children in the neighborhood start to disappear after a game of hide & seek. Jason and his friends Lyric and Nia soon learn that the kids were whisked away by the demonic Seeker to a place beyond their worst nightmares, and it looks like they’re next.

Of our trio of heroes, I’d have to say Nia is my favorite. She’s clever, rational, and despite her photographic memory and love of trivia she struggles with schoolwork. It was a nice change of pace to see the token “smart kid” suck at test taking and homework, a reminder that schoolwork is not an accurate measure of intelligence and ingenuity, and learning disabilities don’t mean you’re stupid. Nia uses her wits to help the kids out of more than one scrape and pushes her friends to be their best. She also knows enough about horror movie tropes to advise against splitting up the group. Nia is awesome. Not that Lyric or Jason are slouches. They’re fiercely loyal to each other, and it’s incredibly heartwarming. Even at their worst moments, the kids stick together and support their friends. 

This is the perfect book for kids who love Goosebumps and Stranger Things but are still too young for Stephen King and R-rated Slashers. Hermon is amazing at creating atmosphere and building terror without relying on blood and gore (there are minor injuries though, like bug stings, burns, and minor cuts). Her dialogue conveys the intensity of the situation without swearing. By implying Nowhere is a place where all your greatest fears become real and leaves its victims traumatized and covered in scars, our imaginations are able to come up with the worst possible scenarios. Not that Hermon leaves everything up to the reader’s imagination: there are plenty of giant bugs, living dolls, needles, and rat-snake hybrids to convey how truly terrifying Nowhere is.

Justin faces a lot of scary things, but racists and systemic oppression aren’t among them. It was nice to have a middle-grade book with a Black hero that didn’t deal with racism. Black folks already have to deal with racism All. The. Time. We deserve escapist stories where Black kids get to exist without having to worry about discrimination. Nic Stone, author of Dear Martin put it best in her article for Cosmopolitan:

“…I can’t help but wonder how different the world would look if we’d all grown up seeing Black people do the stuff White people did in books. Going on adventures. Saving the day. Falling in love. Solving mysteries. Dealing with a broken heart. Getting caught up in a riveting love triangle. Taking down oppressive regimes. (I mean, HELLO, a bunch of farm animals took down a dictatorial pig in a book that’s been on middle school curriculum lists for decades. Yet Black people can’t survive the first book in a dystopia trilogy?) What if we’d seen Black people in books just being human?”

The closest the book gets to dealing with racism is when the kids get harassed by a police officer while riding their bikes though a nice neighborhood. Ironically, it’s the one White kid in the group that hates cops the most due to his father being sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and he warns the others not to ask the police for help. And it’s such a nice change to see Black kids fighting make-believe monsters rather than real ones.

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Children, Demon, Highly Recommended, Monster, Psychological Horror
How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: The Roadrunner Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting,  Historic Horror, Werebeast (Were-Panther/Nagual)

Audience: Children

Diversity: American Indian (Choctaw)

Takes Place in: Choctaw Nation, Mississippi, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Illness, Kidnapping, Oppression, Physical Abuse, Racism, Self-Harm, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Told in the words of Isaac, a Choctaw boy who does not survive the Trail of Tears, HOW I BECAME A GHOST is a tale of innocence and resilience in the face of tragedy. From the book’s opening line, “Maybe you have never read a book written by a ghost before,” the reader is put on notice that this is no normal book. Isaac leads a remarkable foursome of Choctaw comrades: a tough-minded teenage girl, a shape-shifting panther boy, a lovable five-year-old ghost who only wants her mom and dad to be happy, and Isaac s talking dog, Jumper. The first in a trilogy, HOW I BECAME A GHOST thinly disguises an important and oft-overlooked piece of history.

I was looking through the kid’s section of the library (before I get kicked out for being the creepy adult with no children) when I stumbled upon Tim Tingle’s How I Became a Ghost. The title intrigued me, I’m always looking for books by minority authors, and I loved the cover. Then I noticed the fine print: A Choctaw Trail of Tears Story. Tingle’s book is not a simple ghost story for kids, but an important work of historical fiction about the horrors of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, which illegally forced the Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, Seminole, and Cherokee from their homes and resulted in the death of thousands of American Indians.

A dark-skinned father is walking with his light-skinned young son and holding his baby. They are in a children’s library full of brightly colored bookshelves and posters for “We Need Diverse Books Poster” and “Catch the Flesh Eating Reading Bacterium”. I’m hiding in one of the bookshelves like a gremlin, hissing. The boy asks his father “Daddy, what is that weird lady doing in the children’s library by herself?” The father, unconcerned, responds “Just keep walking and don’t make eye contact sweetie.”

I decided to draw a background for this picture, and quickly remembered why I hate drawing backgrounds. These are all real children’s book covers by the way. I also sneaked in a “Welcome to Night Vale” reference.

How I Became a Ghost is not a “fun” kind of scary story (though there are plenty of humorous moments- more on that later) where you can easily brush away your fear because you know it’s a work of pure fiction. The characters in the book may be fictional, but this is still a book based on true events, that caused a great deal of death, suffering, and the loss of ancestral homeland. The first half of the book is based on the real-life experiences of John Carnes, Tingle’s great-great-grandfather, who was forced to walk the Trail of Tears along with his family and lost his mother and brother to exposure and disease during their forced relocation. Tingle first recorded his account of Carnes’ life in the short story Trail of Tears for his anthology book, Walking the Choctaw Road, and would later use it as inspiration for writing How I Became a Ghost.

Tingle doesn’t shy away from descriptions of the Choctaw people cutting their flesh in mourning, being burned alive in their homes, dying from small pox infected blankets, and of course, children dying. Pretty rough stuff, but I think kids can handle it, Tingle does a great job of educating his audience about the Trail of Tears, while still keeping the content age appropriate. And as Shelley A. Welch, an Eastern Cherokee woman, wrote in her guest post for the blog American Indians in Children’s Literature:  “Some teachers will say that historical realities are too heavy for young children. Actually, it seems to be the adults that shy away from those topics …. who don’t seem to want to let go of American myths of ‘friendship and good will’ between the first settlers and the Indigenous people, a People who were once the majority and are now the smallest minority…. I can say that when children are told that one group bullied another, they are quite amazing peacemakers, acknowledging the breach of civil rights and offering cooperative resolutions. It is true, elementary-aged students aren’t developmentally ready for the specifics of genocide, but they can understand the inhumanity of racism. ” In other words, this book is loads better for children than all those Thanksgiving stories that propagate the lie of the “smiling (Wampanoag) Indian“. For kids who would prefer a non-fictional account of the Trail of Tears, there’s also Joseph Bruchac’s (author of Skeleton Man) children’s book that he wrote for the Step-Into-Reading series. But I think there’s something to be gained from reading a more personal (albeit fictional) account when learning about history. How I Became a Ghost also educates readers about Choctaw (Chahta) culture, spirituality, vocabulary, and even has a ghostly cameo from Chief Pushmataha.How I Became a Ghost is posthumously narrated by a ten-year-old Choctaw boy named Isaac. Isaac frequently brings up his impending death, so you spend the first two thirds of the story on edge, wondering when his time will come. At first, he’s plagued by visions of other Choctaw people dying, but eventually Isaac comes to terms with his own mortality and seems to accept it, though he does worry about how his family will react. I guess when you’re surrounded by death and you know the end is coming you start to feel pretty chill about the whole thing. There are plenty of scary moments for horror lovers, a teenage girl being abused by soldiers then hiding in the bonepickers‘ wagon, under a pile of bloody bones, stands out in particular.

For a story that’s written so simply (to make it easy for young readers) How I Became a Ghost leaves quite the impact.  Something about the plain, straightforward way Isaac describes the trail of bloody footprints he leaves behind or the parents carrying their dead child really stays with you. Not everything is dark and depressing however, Tingle adds plenty of humor and hope to his book, like Isaac’s father pretending to be a snow monster and playfully chasing his sons, the other family they befriend on the Trail of Tears, and one of the Choctaw elders teasing Isaac for his clumsiness as a ghost. As a bonus, these scenes also shatter the myth of the “humorless, serious Indian” that’s frequently perpetuated by Euro-American media. I never felt like I was reading a “sad” story, more a story of survival. The ending of Isaac’s life, while tragic, is not the end of his spirit, and he continues to help and guide his friends and family as a ghost. When he dies, Isaac is cheerfully welcomed into the afterlife by the other spirits (shilombish) who continue to watch over their loved ones. Like the Choctaw Nation, Isaac continues to persevere, albeit in a different form, despite all he has suffered and lost.

I do have a few nitpicks, because of course I do, but they’re all pretty minor. Isaac’s cause of death felt like a really odd choice to me. *Spoilers* He’s killed by a wolf, even though wolves killing humans are extremely rare, and even then almost always carried out by a pack of wolves rather than a lone individual. In other words, Isaac would have had a greater chance of being killed by a lightning strike than a wolf attack. So why not have him die another, less improbable way? *End Spoilers* The whole thing seemed random and highly unlikely, though Tingle may have just chosen to take artistic license for the sake of the plot. Isacc’s dog, Jumper, also confused me. He seemed to be able to speak, but it wasn’t clear if Jumper could actually talk, or if Isaac just imagined his responses, like I do with my cats (don’t judge me). I think it’s the latter, since no one else appears to be able to “hear” Jumper, but it’s never really explained. So, there’s just this random talking dog that doesn’t really serve a purpose story-wise except to be adorable (not that I’m going to complain about a good dog, dogs make everything better).

In the first panel, I’m cheerfully talking to a short-haired tortoise-shell cat and voicing her responses: “Hi Kitty! You’re so cute and fuzzy! Cute, fuzzy, kitty butt!” “Meow, go away, I don’t like you.” “Oh kitty, why are you such a grumpy grump?” In the second panel I look less thrilled as the cat ignores me and “asks” “Why are you such a loser?” “Kitty that’s not nice!” “It’s true though! And you have a butt face and no friends and you smell.” In the last panel I’m crying while the cat purrs happily.

Cats are jerks.

There’s also a kind of odd character introduction halfway through the story, with the appearance of Joseph the were-panther. Apparently, Isaac already knows Joseph from his village, it’s just that no one bothered to mention his existence or wonder where he was prior to that point in the story, not even his own grandparents who were introduced in the first few chapters. Well, I guess it’s nice that this guy we had absolutely no knowledge of previously managed to survive? It’s also odd that Joseph turns into a black panther, and not a cougar (which is also known as a panther), a large cat that’s native to North America. At first I assumed the black panther on the cover was a stylistic choice, until Tingle describes Joseph’s feline form as having a black coat. Melanistic color variants only occur in leopards and jaguars, not cougars, and jaguars wouldn’t be found so far north. They do sometimes wander into New Mexico and Arizona, and there were even reports of jaguars in California during the 1800s (leopards are located on an entirely different continent), but having one appear in Mississippi seemed unlikely. At first I thought Joseph might be half Aztec or Olmec, since Tingle doesn’t reveal anything about his parents and both Indigenous groups have stories about people who can turn into jaguars. But it’s also likely that black, shape-shifting cougars are a part of Choctaw theology that I’m just not familiar with. Black panthers also make appearances in Tim Tingle’s House of Purple Cedar and Caleb, the latter of his works, also about a shape-shifting boy. I did try to do some further research into the matter, but with all the false information out there regarding American Indian beliefs, spirituality, and legends I wasn’t able to come up with much. There also seem to be a lot of legends in Mississippi about black panthers. Who knows?Sorry, I went off on a weird tangent there…

I’m sitting cross-legged on the ground, reading a copy of “How I Became a Ghost”. A black panther is standing behind me and reading over my shoulder. I complain “Cougars don’t have melanistic color variants!” The panther responds “You realize no one but you cares, right?”

I get really caught up on weird details, you’d think I’d be more concerned about the panther reading over my shoulder, but nope.

The writing may feel a little childish for adults and older readers, and not necessarily something I’d recommend for people in that age group (instead I’d suggest Tingle’s original Trail of Tears story, which is similar to How I Became a Ghost, but aimed at older readers and non-fictional), but kids will definitely get a kick out of the story and the epic rescue mission staged by Issac and his panther friend, and it will hopefully pique their interest in history and the Choctaw Nation. I know I’ll certainly be interested in checking out the sequel, When A Ghost Talks, Listen, when it’s released.

Tags: American Indian, BIPOC, Book Review, Children, Choctaw, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Own Voices, Southeast Native Nations, Werebeast
The Jumbies by Tracey Baptiste

The Jumbies by Tracey Baptiste

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Algonquin Young Readers

Genre: Monster, Myths and Folklore, Supernatural

Audience: Children

Diversity: Afro-Tobagonian and Indo-Tobagonian characters, Character with Speech Disorder (selective mutisim)

Takes Place in: Trinidad and Tobago

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Endangerment, Death

Blurb

Corinne La Mer claims she isn’t afraid of anything. Not scorpions, not the boys who tease her, and certainly not jumbies. They’re just tricksters made up by parents to frighten their children. Then one night Corinne chases an agouti all the way into the forbidden forest, and shining yellow eyes follow her to the edge of the trees. They couldn’t belong to a jumbie. Or could they?

When Corinne spots a beautiful stranger at the market the very next day, she knows something extraordinary is about to happen. When this same beauty, called Severine, turns up at Corinne’s house, danger is in the air. Severine plans to claim the entire island for the jumbies. Corinne must call on her courage and her friends and learn to use ancient magic she didn’t know she possessed to stop Severine and to save her island home.

I spent part of my childhood in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, where I frequently heard scary stories about Jumbies, the spirits that haunt the Caribbean. There were the Douens with their backwards feet and wide straw hats, the glowing eyes of the La Diablesse, and Duppies that could be kept away with salt. And while it was enough to give me nightmares as a child, being able to read a book that contained all these creepy creatures from my youth was nostalgic and wonderful.

A water color painting of two young, dark skinned girls in the Caribbean. The first girl is dressed in a green dress and a wide, green hat, and she is stepping out of the forest. Her eyes are too big and glow orange, and she smiles wickedly. The other girl, who is human, wears an orange dress and has her hands up in fear as she backs away.

Thanks for the childhood nightmares Tales of the Caribbean (published by the Wright Group)

The Jumbies is based on the Haitian fairytale, the Magic Orange Tree, and contains underlying themes of colonization, the clash of two cultures, and environmentalism. But if you’re worried about helpless princesses and ham-handed messages about not littering, never fear, Tracey Baptiste is far too talented an author to create some sort of terrible Snow White/Ferngully mishmash. Sure, there are still plenty of fun fantasy tropes, monsters, magic, and the dead mom cliché (because that’s apparently some sort of requirement for heroines in fairy tales) but there’s also a lovely lack of distressed damsels, one dimensional villains, and black and white morality. Baptiste doesn’t try to feed her young readers any sort of over-simplified nonsense about how good people are pure and beautiful and only capable of doing good things. Instead, the characters are complicated and flawed, and right and wrong aren’t always clear cut.

Five Disney heroines, Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, Ariel, and Jasmine, are having a tea party, with Corinne sitting in the middle. Over them, a banner reads “Dead Mom’s Club”. Belle exclaims “Très bon travail Corrine!” Ariel asks “Wow, you stopped the witch by yourself? My boyfriend had to save me!” and Jasmine comments “My dad was hypnotized too, by an evil guy with a snake staff.”

Okay, but seriously, what does Disney have against moms?

The main character, Corinne, is a young girl who lives with her father at the edge of a Jumbie-filled forest. Her mother died when she was very young but she left her daughter three very special gifts, her necklace, an orange tree, and a gift for growing things. Predictably, Corinne must use all three to discover the truth about herself and fight the evil threatening her home. And let me tell you, I wish I was as awesome as Corinne. She’s smart, self-sufficient, and incredibly brave. In the original fairy tale on which The Jumbies is based, the protagonist is a passive character that things just sort of happen to, but Corrine is proactive about her dire situation, and willing to fight the monsters herself instead of waiting for rescue. The helpless heroines in tales of old don’t hold a candle to the courageous Corinne. And let’s be honest “wait and hope things get better” is not the greatest message to give to kids. Don’t wait to be saved, rescue yourself.

Corrine, wearing her father’s oversized shirt, proudly tells me “Yeah, I just defeated a bunch of monsters, rescued my dad from an evil enchantress, and saved the whole island, no big deal.” Looking sheepish, I respond, “I called the doctor’s office and made an appointment all by myself…”

There’s nothing that makes me feel more inadequate than a kid 20 years my junior who’s tougher than I am.

That isn’t to say Baptiste is telling the reader to only rely on themselves. As tough as Corrine is, sometimes she needs the aid of her friends, in this case a pair of mischievous orphan brothers, Bouki and Malik, and a shy young girl named Dru. They pull her up at her lowest moment, and stand by her side when she confronts Severine. It’s a nice balance. Corrine is brave and independent, but is still able to rely on others when she needs to, while Dru, the girly-girl to Corrine’s tomboy, is shy and timid, without being weak and helpless, and learns to be braver and more independent. She may not want to handle scorpions or run into the forest by herself, but Dru’s still far from being a distressed damsel. Then there’s Bouki and Malik, who are used to relying only on each other but learn that getting help from others is a sign of strength, not weakness.

Interestingly, most of the Jumbies aren’t portrayed as being good or evil, they simply want to protect their forest home from the humans who’ve invaded it. But unlike more heavy-handed environmental stories, Baptiste takes a more nuanced approach, and doesn’t paint these issues as black and white. Think more Lorax (the book, not the film) less Captain Planet. The humans aren’t evil, selfish, or greedy, but they’re still destroying the forest homes of the Jumbies who’ve lived there for thousands of years. Nor are the Jumbies evil per se, they just want to protect their home from the human invaders. Even Severine, the big bad of the story, isn’t completely unsympathetic. As evil as she is, she clearly loved her dear sister and is hurting from her loss. Severine is lashing out for a reason, and while it by no means justifies the terrible things she does, it at least explains them.

This book is perfect for younger kids who are tired of Cinderella and Snow White, and like their stories a little spooky. It has a strong female lead, fighting to protect her father and her home, a cast of fun supporting characters, and one truly creepy villain.

Tags: Afro-Tobagonian, Asian, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Caribbean, Children, Disability, Indian, Indo-Tobagonian, Monster, Myths and Folklore, Own Voices, Recommended
The Gauntlet by Karuna Riazi

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

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

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

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, Own Voices

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