The Drowning Girl by Caitlín R. Kiernan

The Drowning Girl by Caitlín R. Kiernan

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Penguin

Genre: Monster, Werewolf, Romance, Ghosts/Haunting, Psychological Horror, Mystery

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Lesbian characters, trans character, mentally ill character

Takes Place in: Northeastern USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Mentions of Transphobia, Suicide, Emotional Abuse 

Please note, I found out recently that Caitlín R. Kiernan has expressed racist views on Twitter, detailed here. – 5/10/24

The Drowning Girl is a beautifully written, psychological horror novel about a young woman, Imp, whose schizophrenia is making it difficult for her to determine the nature of the mysterious woman haunting her. Is she a siren using her charm to lure Imp to disaster? A werewolf? A human stalker who can blur the lines of reality? Imp struggles to sort out the truth before she loses herself. Queer romance, myths, and art combine to create this award winning novel.

So did I like it? Well……. Sort of?

In theory I should have loved it. It takes place on my home turf of New England, the main character is a queer artist (like me!), she’s dating an incredibly well written trans character, the story has a creepy mystery, gorgeous imagery, and one of the best representations of mental illness I’ve ever read. But I struggled to get through the Drowning Girl. I’d pick it up, read a chapter, and then forget about it for a month. I don’t know why I didn’t devour this book as quickly as I do others, there wasn’t really anything I disliked about it, and it wasn’t boring, but it just didn’t seem to capture my attention. It reminded me of one of those award winning art films that critics love and you have to sit through in college film classes. There’s nothing bad about it per se, but you’d still rather be watching Bad Boys II, or some other equally ridiculous action flick.

In the first panel I'm in the hallway of a movie theater looking at a poster for "The English Patient" and saying "Oooh, I heard this was a great film!" In the next panel I'm in the theater looking completely disinterested, and repeating "bored, bored, bored, bored" over and over as I suffer through the movie.

Ugh, I should’ve just watched Sharknado again.

Maybe I’m just not sophisticated enough to appreciate the non-linear, stream of conciseness (i.e. all over the place) writing, or perhaps I’m too clueless to fully comprehend the subtly and symbolism of the story. But I found it really jarring to have Imp describe her girlfriend, Abalyn, play Kingdom Hearts one minute, and then have a poetic, jumbled passage full of fairy tale metaphors the next. And I get it, the writing style is intended to represent Imp’s mental illness by showing the disorganization of her thought process, the random associations she makes where none exist, and her difficulty remembering what’s real and what’s imagined. But that doesn’t always make for an enjoyable read.

I guess I’m just incredibly picky when it comes to “artsy” prose and magical realism. When it works, it works well, but when it doesn’t, it just becomes a confusing, irritating erratic mess, and with the Drowning Girl it was kind of a crap shoot.

I'm floating upside down in blue space, surrounded by dreamlike imagery of a crow wearing a cloak, a close-up of a crescent moon, a wolf's skull, pills, a crab, and a mermaid with pale, corpse-like skin. The mermaid's human half is intact but her fish half is nothing but bone. Her organs hang out of her human torso. I look confused and mutter

WTF is going on? Did I take expired cold medicine again?

Since I’m starting to feel bad for picking on this book so much (and it’s by no means a bad book), I want to address one of the things I did really like about the story, how Imp’s mental illness was treated. It wasn’t romanticized, it was just a part of her that could make her life more challenging, but not horrible. Medication made her illness manageable, but didn’t make it disappear entirely, and she was able to continue working, date, hang out with friends, pursue hobbies, and lived on her own. She would go through rough patches, some she could handle on her own, and some she couldn’t. Her therapist was supportive, without telling Imp what to do. Overall, I felt like it was a very realistic depiction of a woman with a mental illness, which is rather uncommon in fiction where the mentally ill are usually written as either asylum inmates, criminals, or manic pixie dream girls.

Overall, I really, really wanted to love this one. It had all the right ingredients, rave reviews, a talented author, but the final result was disappointing, at least for me. It wasn’t bad, but I just couldn’t bring myself to give it a “highly recommended”. That doesn’t mean other people won’t find this book amazing, and I strongly encourage others, especially those with more sophisticated taste than mine, to give it a read. Because you may love it. Or you may find it “meh”, but at least you won’t regret reading it.

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’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 JawsThe 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.

Navigation

Social Media

Search by Tags

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

Age Groups

Diversity

Genre

Support the Blog

Search

Links

The Drowning Girl by Caitlín R. Kiernan

The Drowning Girl by Caitlín R. Kiernan

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Penguin

Genre: Monster, Werewolf, Romance, Ghosts/Haunting, Psychological Horror, Mystery

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Lesbian characters, trans character, mentally ill character

Takes Place in: Northeastern USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Mentions of Transphobia, Suicide, Emotional Abuse 

Please note, I found out recently that Caitlín R. Kiernan has expressed racist views on Twitter, detailed here. – 5/10/24

The Drowning Girl is a beautifully written, psychological horror novel about a young woman, Imp, whose schizophrenia is making it difficult for her to determine the nature of the mysterious woman haunting her. Is she a siren using her charm to lure Imp to disaster? A werewolf? A human stalker who can blur the lines of reality? Imp struggles to sort out the truth before she loses herself. Queer romance, myths, and art combine to create this award winning novel.

So did I like it? Well……. Sort of?

In theory I should have loved it. It takes place on my home turf of New England, the main character is a queer artist (like me!), she’s dating an incredibly well written trans character, the story has a creepy mystery, gorgeous imagery, and one of the best representations of mental illness I’ve ever read. But I struggled to get through the Drowning Girl. I’d pick it up, read a chapter, and then forget about it for a month. I don’t know why I didn’t devour this book as quickly as I do others, there wasn’t really anything I disliked about it, and it wasn’t boring, but it just didn’t seem to capture my attention. It reminded me of one of those award winning art films that critics love and you have to sit through in college film classes. There’s nothing bad about it per se, but you’d still rather be watching Bad Boys II, or some other equally ridiculous action flick.

In the first panel I'm in the hallway of a movie theater looking at a poster for "The English Patient" and saying "Oooh, I heard this was a great film!" In the next panel I'm in the theater looking completely disinterested, and repeating "bored, bored, bored, bored" over and over as I suffer through the movie.

Ugh, I should’ve just watched Sharknado again.

Maybe I’m just not sophisticated enough to appreciate the non-linear, stream of conciseness (i.e. all over the place) writing, or perhaps I’m too clueless to fully comprehend the subtly and symbolism of the story. But I found it really jarring to have Imp describe her girlfriend, Abalyn, play Kingdom Hearts one minute, and then have a poetic, jumbled passage full of fairy tale metaphors the next. And I get it, the writing style is intended to represent Imp’s mental illness by showing the disorganization of her thought process, the random associations she makes where none exist, and her difficulty remembering what’s real and what’s imagined. But that doesn’t always make for an enjoyable read.

I guess I’m just incredibly picky when it comes to “artsy” prose and magical realism. When it works, it works well, but when it doesn’t, it just becomes a confusing, irritating erratic mess, and with the Drowning Girl it was kind of a crap shoot.

I'm floating upside down in blue space, surrounded by dreamlike imagery of a crow wearing a cloak, a close-up of a crescent moon, a wolf's skull, pills, a crab, and a mermaid with pale, corpse-like skin. The mermaid's human half is intact but her fish half is nothing but bone. Her organs hang out of her human torso. I look confused and mutter

WTF is going on? Did I take expired cold medicine again?

Since I’m starting to feel bad for picking on this book so much (and it’s by no means a bad book), I want to address one of the things I did really like about the story, how Imp’s mental illness was treated. It wasn’t romanticized, it was just a part of her that could make her life more challenging, but not horrible. Medication made her illness manageable, but didn’t make it disappear entirely, and she was able to continue working, date, hang out with friends, pursue hobbies, and lived on her own. She would go through rough patches, some she could handle on her own, and some she couldn’t. Her therapist was supportive, without telling Imp what to do. Overall, I felt like it was a very realistic depiction of a woman with a mental illness, which is rather uncommon in fiction where the mentally ill are usually written as either asylum inmates, criminals, or manic pixie dream girls.

Overall, I really, really wanted to love this one. It had all the right ingredients, rave reviews, a talented author, but the final result was disappointing, at least for me. It wasn’t bad, but I just couldn’t bring myself to give it a “highly recommended”. That doesn’t mean other people won’t find this book amazing, and I strongly encourage others, especially those with more sophisticated taste than mine, to give it a read. Because you may love it. Or you may find it “meh”, but at least you won’t regret reading it.

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’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 JawsThe 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.

Navigation

Social Media

Search by Tags

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

Age Groups

Diversity

Genre

Support the Blog

Search

Links