I've been writing novels for young readers for the last fifteen years, but I’ve been an avid reader all of my life. Growing up there wasn’t the selection for middle-grade readers as there is now, so I cut my literary teeth on “grown-up” books at a young age, sneaking my father’s Stephen King novels at thirteen and reading them past midnight with a flashlight under my blanket. I’ve always been attracted to stories that make me shiver. Not the bloody, gory ones, but the ones that ratchet the tension slowly, that leave plenty to my own imagination. Now I’ve finally had the chance to write my own about the scariest place I could think of….middle school.
The Jumbies tells the story of a young girl on an adventure to stop a witch and save her village—fairly standard fairy-tale fare. What’s fantastic and unique about this book is how it takes the magic, wonder, and mystery of Caribbean folktales as its inspiration to transport readers (or this reader, at least) to somewhere new and refreshing. Baptiste imagines this spooky world full of monsters that are both fascinating and fearsome and then manages to elevate it all even further to ponder questions of family, friendship, freedom, and colonialism, all the while still providing the kind of nail-biting moments that earn it a place on a scary-books list. I like books that make me shiver and think, and this one does both. Plus there are two sequels for when you finish.
Corinne La Mer isn't afraid of anything. Not scorpions, not the boys who tease her, and certainly not jumbies. They're just tricksters parents make up to frighten their children. Then one night Corinne chases an agouti all the way into the forbidden forest. Those shining yellow eyes that followed her to the edge of the trees, they couldn't belong to a jumbie. Or could they? When Corinne spots a beautiful stranger speaking to the town witch at the market the next day, she knows something unexpected is about to happen. And when this same beauty, called Severine, turns up at…
Creepy Victorian setting? Check. Potentially haunted mansion? Check. Dynamic, fully-realized brother and sister duo to root for? Check. Ever-building tension marked by a steady stream of haunting reveals? Check. It has all these things going for it, but most of all, Auxier’s novel offers up a shadowy villain who is more than he seems and whose motives elicit some measure of sympathy. The Night Gardener is a gothic horror story, relying more on keeping you constantly unsettled rather than jolting you out of your seat, but I happen to love that perpetual sinking feeling in my stomach as I wonder what happens next. I got as much pleasure out of trying to unpuzzle the mystery at the heart of the novel as I did wondering if the two kids were going to bite it in the end (no spoilers here). Did I mention there is a tree that is literally watered by the sweat caused by nightmares? How demented.
Irish orphans Molly, 14, and Kip, 10, travel to England to work as servants in a crumbling manor house where nothing is quite what it seems, and soon the siblings are confronted by a mysterious stranger and the secrets of the cursed house. By the author of Peter Nimble and His Fantastic Eyes.
Twelve-year-old identical twins Ellie and Kat accidentally trigger their physicist mom’s unfinished time machine, launching themselves into a high-stakes adventure in 1970 Chicago. If they learn how to join forces and keep time travel out of the wrong hands, they might be able find a way home. Ellie’s gymnastics and…
I’m not sure how to classify Oppel’s haunting and thoughtful novel, except to say that it straddles the line between fantasy and reality and is much more than just a psychological thriller (though it is that). It tells the story of Steve, a boy coping with anxiety, and his quest to save his sick infant brother…by making a deal with a wasp queen to replace his brother with a “better” or “perfect” one. Bizarre? Yes. Creepy? Seriously, especially in the last third of the book. But what struck me most about Oppel’s dreamy narrative was how much I connected with the protagonist. I felt deeply for his ethical and personal struggles as well as for his family. As a kid I stepped on a hornet’s nest and was stung forty-two times, causing my heart to nearly stop. There are moments in Oppel’s novel where I felt it might burst instead—sometimes from suspense, but just as often from empathy. Also, the illustrations are awesome and add to the ambiance.
'The first time I saw them, I thought they were angels.' The baby is sick. Mom and Dad are sad. And all Steve has to do is say, "Yes" to fix everything. But yes is a powerful word. It is also a dangerous one. And once it is uttered, can it be taken back? Treading the thin line between dreams and reality, Steve is stuck in a nightmare he can't wake up from and that nobody else understands. And all the while, the wasps' nest is growing, and the 'angel' keeps visiting Steve in the night.
Coraline is considered a classic. A kind of foundational text for young people’s scary literature, it follows a familiar pattern (new house, weird neighbors, lonely heroine), but once Coraline ventures through the door into another dimension, the imagination and the creep-factor increase exponentially. I rank it up there with Alice In Wonderland for invoking my how-does-someone-think-of-this-stuff reflex. I love the cast of quirky secondary characters and the double climax. The talking cat and that severed hand. That it is my favorite Gaiman children’s book is really saying something as The Graveyard Book is also excellent. The film adaptation of Coraline is pretty good too (an unusual occurrence), though read the book first, of course.
"Sometimes funny, always creepy, genuinely moving, this marvellous spine-chiller will appeal to readers from nine to ninety." - "Books for Keeps". "I was looking forward to "Coraline", and I wasn't disappointed. In fact, I was enthralled. This is a marvellously strange and scary book." - Philip Pullman, "Guardian". "If any writer can get the guys to read about the girls, it should be Neil Gaiman. His new novel "Coraline" is a dreamlike adventure. For all its gripping nightmare imagery, this is actually a conventional fairy story with a moral." - "Daily Telegraph". Stephen King once called Neil Gaiman 'a treasure-house…
Twelve-year-old identical twins Ellie and Kat accidentally trigger their physicist mom’s unfinished time machine, launching themselves into a high-stakes adventure in 1970 Chicago. If they learn how to join forces and keep time travel out of the wrong hands, they might be able find a way home. Ellie’s gymnastics and…
First off, this one may skew towards a slightly older audience (say, young adult), but I think many mature tweens would appreciate it. Though it’s not a novel but a collection of five supernatural horror stories (graphic collection?), all of them are dark and twisted and chilling the way original Grimm fairy tales were before they got Disneyfied. It reminded me of reading Poe, if Poe was also a kick-butt illustrator, because it really was the visuals that startled and stayed with me the most. They aren’t all that graphic or explicit; most of them are suggestive and even shadowy the way good suspenseful horror should be. Best of all, this is a book that can be savored incrementally. Just read one of the stories right before bed, then stay awake for the next two hours listening to all the strange noises outside your window.
It feels like Riley Flynn has been on her own since sixth grade, when her best friend, Emily, ditched her for the cool girls. Girls who decide one day to lock her in the science closet after everyone else has gone home. When Riley is finally able to escape she finds that her horror story is only just beginning. Through halls lit only by the narrow beam of her flashlight, Riley roams the building, seeking a way out, an explanation. As she does, she starts to suspect she isn’t alone after all.
While she’s always liked a good scary story, Riley knows there is no such thing as ghosts. But what else could explain the things happening in the school, the haunting force that seems to lurk in every shadow, around every corner?