Thirteens

“When you spend all the day wearing armor, standing despite its weight, it is often the moment you remove it that your strength abandons you. For that is the brief moment that you do not need to hold fast to it.” -Kate Alice Marshall, Brackenbeast

It's not easy being a kid. 

Often as adults we romanticize our youth, thinking it was easier when we were a child. We didn't have obligations and we were free to play and explore. 

The reality is that we all have had expectations placed upon us as soon as we’re born. We’re expected to save the world, do better than our parents, become pillars of society, and survive without any struggles outside of simply growing up and becoming an adult. We ignore the inherited trauma of a past we had no control over or how our birth automatically determines aspects of our future. We are ordered to live the “American Dream” despite the various definitions to what exactly that dream entails. And once we become adults, we often have forgotten the struggles of our own youths, forcing the expectation narrative to repeat in an unending cycle. 

For Eleanor, Pip, and Otto in Kate Alice Marshall’s Thirteens, the first in the The Secrets of Eden Eld series, their fate was already determined because of the date they were born. In Eden Eld, the town’s founders made a deal with the strange and mystifying Mr. January. Every thirteen years, there are three children who are born in the town on Halloween. Once they turn thirteen they are given to Mr. January and his sisters as a sacrifice to keep the town a quiet and prosperous place to live. 

Eleanor’s mom, aware of this curse, moved away from Eden Eld to protect her daughter from this horrifying fate. After a mysterious fire separates her from her mother, Eleanor returns to Eden Eld, where she now lives with her very pregnant Aunt Jenny. Eleanor starts school a few days from her thirteenth birthday, unaware of the destiny she is to fulfill. On that fateful first day of school, Eleanor meets Otto and Pip, who are all surprised that they share the same birthday. 

Through Pip and Otto, Eleanor discovers the various secrets of Eden Eld and history behind the secret January Society. They begin to learn of the real danger that they face. Many leaders of their community are eager to sacrifice the three kids, never considering that the decisions made by their ancestors could be changed, that traditions do not have to remain with each new generation. Eleanor, Pip, and Otto are forced to only trust each other, never knowing if the people they love are really the people who would destroy their future. As the story moves to the sequel, Brackenbeast, Eleanor, Pip, and Otto are constantly faced with the consequences of previous generations’ choices. The trio are determined to end the cycle of sacrifice, despite the potential horrific cost. 

By mixing the larger themes of generational trauma and societal expectations with folk horror, Kate Alice Marshall has woven a thoughtful, suspenseful, and engaging story that on the surface is a fun, spooky story but is actually a great conversation starter about what it means to rectify with your parents’ choices. Like the plight of this strong trio, we don’t always have ready answers for how to solve the sins of the past; we just have to acknowledge and start the work for a better tomorrow so the darkness is never repeated. 

(Thirteens cover art by Sara Kipin)

Scary Stories For Young Children

“I personally believe that if you are keeping people—young people—safe from the darkness, then, when the darkness shows up, you are denying them tools or weapons that they might have needed and could have had.”

-Neil Gaiman

I have been thinking about what it means to tell a story. 

You have characters, action, descriptions, suspense, and (sometimes) resolution. 

But what happens to the person who hears the story? How will they repeat the story they have heard? How will it morph with its next presentation? When will it turn into something completely different from what it originally was? What effect will that story have on a new reader or listener?

At about this time, I could easily use the famous Joan Didion quote of “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” It’s a great line and I understand why it remains so quotable. But I prefer this line instead, which happens after that first paragraph in The White Album: “Or at least we do for a while. I am talking here about a time when I began to doubt the premises of all the stories I had ever told myself, a common condition but one I found troubling.” And in a world of misinformation in which the term “fake news” is consistently thrown around, it is easy to feel the trepidation of the stories we know and retell. 

In Christian McKay Heidicker’s Scary Stories for Young Foxes and the sequel The City, the role of stories plays a vital part to these characters. When the stories are twisted to serve a different narrative, the manner in which the characters survive is now a gateway to more danger, a way of losing oneself to darkness.

Scary Stories for Young Foxes begins on a chilly autumn night. Seven fox kits want a story from their mother, specifically a scary story. The mother, having no other new and scary stories for her children, hints that the kits should not visit Bog Cavern where they may hear a story “…so frightening it will put the white in your tail.” The kits, ready for a juicy, meaty, and horrifying story, sneak out to find this tale of terror. 

At Bog Cavern, the kits find an old creature - “a pile of bones and skin” - who awakens and taunts the kits that they are not ready for the horror in their stories. And just like human children, the kits are defiant, ready for whatever the creature will describe. Before they begin, the creature, or the storyteller, gives this warning:

“All scary stories have two sides,” the storyteller said. “Like the bright and dark of the moon. If you’re brave enough to listen and wise enough to stay to the end, the stories can shine a light on the good in the world. They can guide your muzzles. They can help you survive.”

“But,” the storyteller said, “if you don’t listen closely…if you turn tail from the horror and don’t stay till the end, then the darkness of the story can swallow all hope. It can frighten you so deeply you’ll never want to leave your den again. You’ll waste away the days with your mother, forever smelling like her milk.”

The kits, facing shame and scorn amongst themselves if they fail to listen to the story, summon up their courage, sit in front of the storyteller, and listen to what happens next. From this point the story shifts to the perspective of two other foxes, Mia and Uly, whose stories start independent of each other and later merge to an explosive ending. Throughout the telling of this story some of the fox kits find the story either too silly or too horrific and leave the storyteller’s cavern to return back to their den. Those who stay are treated with a true tale of horror and beautiful resolution. 

Mia’s and Uly’s stories come into play in Heidicker’s sequel, Scary Stories for Young Foxes: The City. The stories of Mia and Uly’s adventures have turned into folk tales that foxes tell each other during their days on the Farm, living separately in their wire dens. Originally, Mia escaped a human (Beatrix Potter the taxidermist) after helping her mother escape a trap. This story has now been twisted into how Mia stayed with this human as a means to be safe away from all the dangers in the forest. The stories of Mia and Uly had morphed to justify why the foxes stay in wire cages, waiting for the time for when they enter the Barn where they will be reunited with their ancestors, never realizing the true nature of the Farm or the intentions of the Farmer. The stories that had been passed down from generation to generation as a way to provide context and warning of the dangers of the forest have now been perverted to ensnare foxes to their doom. 

Heidicker is a patient author. He allows his books to expand enough that the reader is hooked, slowly but steadily preparing the reader for a ferocious ending. Similar to Richard Adams’s Watership Down, Heidicker provides realistic attributes to his animal characters. Heidicker’s foxes kill and eat like regular foxes. He does not sugarcoat that the creatures of the forest do what they must to survive and that said creatures have their own cultural standards and language.  

For children who read these horrific tales, it is an opportunity to explore what it means to tell a story, what it means to hear a story. It is also a way to explore what happens when we mute or edit a story for young children. What does it mean to censor a story when it could be holding a child back from a learning opportunity? Why is there the mentality that we must protect children from horror when it’s the thing that can help them survive? Children are very observant. They absorb and collect experiences quickly. If you do not provide context or engage in conversation with a child, they will create their own stories, their own interpretation of events that can have a lasting effect - both positively and negatively. 

In his 2020 Newbery Honor speech for Scary Stories for Young Foxes, Christian McKay Heidicker discussed resilience and why we tell spooky stories:

“We tell ghost stories to help deal with our past. We tell vampire stories to keep ourselves and our loved ones from being seduced into darkness  And we tell zombie stories to prepare ourselves from pandemics but more importantly to know what to do when you can no longer recognize your neighbor or a figure you are meant to trust has become a threat.”

It’s been a rough few years. It’s been nasty, cold, and indifferent. Even in the midst of stories of triumph, there has been devastation and we will be dealing with the mental and physical ramification for years to come. Reading scary stories allows us to question our own stories and interpretations. If I was living this tale, what would I do? How would I survive? Horror is a way to explore the terror of our world without having to live out the actual situation. We owe it to children to not mute the terror. We owe it to ourselves to not mute our own darkness and share that with the world. Yes, we tell stories in order to survive but to also learn, grow, and thrive. 

Christian McKay Heidicker’s Newbery Honor Acceptance Speech

https://youtu.be/xltea4D8Dvk

Photo credit: Junyi Wu

https://read.macmillan.com/lp/scarystoriesforyoungfoxes/

We Need More Diversity in Children's Horror

Pause for a moment and ask yourself this question: 

Can you name a children’s horror film that features diverse characters as the leads instead of just the sidekick? Or if there is a diverse lead, the rest of the cast is not made up of just white characters? 

And remember that I asked specifically for children. Films made and marketed towards children.

Not adult. 

Not teen. 

Specifically for children. 

When I did a quick Google search, I found two diverse horror films that were created for children and families: Eddie Murphy’s The Haunted Mansion and The Chanting Revisited (Kuntilanak), a family horror film from Indonesia.

I would tentatively include the recent animated version of The Addams Family, which features the voice of Oscar Isaac. I say tentatively since the majority of the main cast is white. Recent animated Disney films such as The Princess and the Frog, Moana, and Coco could be considered but because those films focus primarily on the fantasy genre with horror elements mixed in, I’m hesitant to include them in the answer to my question. The same could be said with the various Studio Ghibli films. 

It: Part One could be considered a teen film with a younger teen perspective but it’s still a film based on an adult novel, was rated R, and it features only one diverse character member with the rest of the cast being white. Horror films made by Mexican filmmakers Issa López (Tigers Are Not Afraid), and Guillermo del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth, and The Devil’s Backbone), do feature children as the lead characters but I would argue that those beautiful films would be better suited for older children, upper middle grade and teen, instead of preschool and early elementary aged children. Wes Craven’s The People Under the Stairs is another film in which a child is in the lead but as it’s rated R, it was not really created for children. 

When I ask this question in relation to television programs, there is some expansion. The Animorphs television adaptation of the popular book series is more science fiction but does have strong horrific elements. The series featured diverse characters and lasted two seasons in the late 90s. Are You Afraid of the Dark?, both the original 90s series and the recently updated version, also features diverse characters. Stranger Things does feature diverse characters, but again, the cast is still primarily white.

As we move to printed materials, specifically with books and graphic novels. The results expand further. The problem is that compared to the vast amount of children’s books being published each year, a small fraction of those titles are horror. Once you separate the diverse stories, that number is even lower. To put in context, let’s say in 2019 over 500 middle grade books were published. About 50 or less of those titles were categorized specifically as horror - not fantasy with horror elements but straight out horror, or spooky. Out of that 50, an average of 3 or 4 titles would either feature a BIPOC character or were written by a BIPOC author. Granted, this is more of an observational assessment, instead of pure science. Either way, while those numbers are still looking better than what’s being presented in films and television, they could be higher. 

If you’re like me, you’re probably racking your brain, thinking of any title, anything that could answer that simple question. And if you’re like me, you're probably frustrated with the answer. It’s time we start addressing that there really isn’t a large selection of diversity in horror for children. 

Sadly, I’m not in a position to facilitate real change in publishing and in the entertainment industry. As a children’s services librarian, I can cultivate a diverse collection of books and films for my youthful patrons. I can suggest titles to children, teens, and their parents and highlight diverse titles in booklists and displays. I can also highlight diverse titles outside of various heritage months and promote diversity to my community all year round. 

What I can also do is advocate for diverse horror. I love how horror, within the adult and teen categories, is expanding beyond white-centric stories. I love how there is more horror media with BIPOC characters and creators. I love how queer horror is growing and how we are constantly reexaming horror media in academic discussions. We are having frank conversations about boundaries and trauma, while also amplifying marginalized voices. There is still A LOT of work to accomplish but the foundational pieces are being formed and it’s exciting to watch. We just can’t forget diverse children’s and teen horror when we are building this foundation. 

Children and teens love horror. They love spooky stories and creepy tales that demand to be read under the covers with a flashlight in the middle of the night. Horror is how children and teens can explore their identity, their emotions, and their boundaries. Diverse horror allows children and teens to explore outside of their world view and opens up their minds to honor and hear marginalized voices. 

If we truly want inclusion in horror, we must demand it for all ages. It’s time to demand more diverse horror for children and teens.

If you know of a diverse horror film or television program for children or teens that I missed, please share with the world. Let’s start the conversation so we can be better advocates for diversity in media and publishing.

___________________________________________________________________________

Author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie gave a fantastic TEDtalk about representation in children’s literature and the impact of a single narrative. 

To explore diversity in horror in fiction, check out this list.

Twilight, or the Horror of Growing Old

This dream isn't feeling sweet

We're reeling through the midnight streets

And I've never felt more alone

It feels so scary, getting old.

-Lorde “Ribs”

A few months ago I wrote this tweet: 

“Normalize horror as serious literature.”

During a literary discussion, I discovered that some of my librarian colleagues were quick to dismiss the horror genre as a way to explore diversity and racial disparity in modern society. I cited Mariana Enríquez’s Things We Lost in the Fire as well as The Good House by Tananarive Due as modern horrific examples of those themes as well as the works of Octavia Butler. I was casually dismissed since I work in Children’s Services and I walked away from the conversation feeling deeply annoyed. 

Hence the tweet. 

The response I had from that tweet was mostly positive. Some expressed solidarity, while others expressed that we should dismiss the concept of “serious literature” all together. There was one response though that stuck in the back of my head and hasn’t let go.

“But Teen + goth Vampire/Werewolf isn’t Horror”

My first reaction and reply was: Yes, it is. 

Teen Vampire stories are horror. Teen Werewolf stories are horror. Teen Gothic stories are horror. Teen Monster stories are horror. Even if romance is a central part of the story, these stories should still be considered horrific. The definition of horror is subjective and we need to start actually acknowledging that horror comes in different styles and how horror is consumed is different for everyone - specifically for children and teens. 

It’s because of that reply I want to talk about a specific, famous teenage book and film series. I want to talk about how Twilight IS horror. It’s also fantasy and a romance. It’s a drama and a bildungsroman. It’s the story of a girl who falls in love with monsters. 

Please note that I’m not here to write a piece in which we say Twilight is actually brilliant. Having recently rewatched the film adaptations as well as (finally) read the books, the series has a lot of issues that deserve dissection and discourse. The series is incredibly heteronormative. Edward is kinda controlling to the point of possession/obsession/gaslighting extraordinaire and the writing is often repetitive. But I’m actually mildly entertained by both the books and the films and I will gladly defend the ending of the Breaking Dawn Pt. 2 film adaptation as one of the craziest action sequences of modern cinema - All Hail Michael Sheen and his embrace of camp.

I also won’t go into detail how media for teenage girls is constantly mocked and demonized. Lindsey Ellis’s video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8O06tMbIKh0) about Stephenie Meyer and teenage media in light of the Twilight craze is a pretty good starting point on how we treat female-centric content. In short, media for teenage girls, as well as women, is often mocked and demonized to the point where you are looked upon as something less than worthy if you even consider exploring said content. As Ellis discusses, this is the case of internalized misogyny and our personal quest to be the cool girl like Amy Dunne. Plus, if you’re reading this, you already know the importance of teenage voices as Cory’s blog serves to bring a much needed new, youthful perspective on modern horror. 

What I do want to talk about is why Twilight, and other similar Teen content, is actually important to the horror genre. I want to discuss the theme of growing old. 

If you haven’t read the Twilight series, it revolves around a teenage girl named Bella who moves to Forks, Washington to live with her dad, who is also the sheriff. At her new school, she meets and falls in love with a vampire named Edward Cullen. She also meets Jacob Black who is part of a local werewolf pack. A love triangle is formed as Bella comes to terms with her desires and her hopes for her future. 

Throughout the series, specifically in the book series, Bella expresses her frustrations at Edward’s reluctance to turn her into a vampire. Edward believes that vampires have no souls and are doomed to hell after their final death. He doesn’t wish this horror on Bella as he wants nothing but her happiness for the rest of her life. Edward is content with Bella growing old and living her life to the fullest, even next to his ageless features. For whenever Bella dies, Edward would shortly follow as his devotion to her is his very existence. Edward’s unwillingness to live without Bella even becomes a plot point at the end of New Moon in which Edward seeks his death after being informed that Bella had died. The whole thing was a misunderstanding and she goes on to save him from his personal destruction. 

In the opening minutes of the film adaptation of Eclipse, Bella is faced with an image of herself as an old woman as Edward stands next to her, still youthful and unchanging. Within this dream sequence, Edward is still affectionate towards this older Bella but she is horrified by this potential future. After Jacob Black becomes a werewolf in New Moon, Bella later learns that he no longer ages in a normal fashion. His werewolf metamorphosis slows his aging process. Bella is once again horrified as she fears she will forever age while the men she loves stay timeless. With each new day, she grows anxious that her inevitably aging human body will destroy whatever connection she has with her new immortal “family.”

When I was young, I remember the feeling of horror as I finished reading Lloyd Alexander’s The High King. The young protagonist of the series, Taran, faces a choice in which he accepts the duties of being king in a broken world. He rejects the option of leaving Prydain, accepting a world in which magic would no longer exist. I was horrified because the ending of this book felt real. It felt tangible. I understood, even at a young age, that there is an expiration date on life and what we face in this world is nothing compared to our fantasies. 

In answering questions from young readers, Alexander spoke of Taran’s ultimate decision: 

“I cried for three days afterwards. Some readers would have liked Taran to go off with all the other companions. My answer was if he had done that, would you have liked him better for it? When they stopped to think about it, they realized that Taran did the right thing. It was a hard decision, but they liked him better because he stayed.” (Scholastic)

I remember being Bella’s age, facing a new future outside of high school. I had no clue of what I wanted and I had a vague notion of what my dreams and goals were outside of my parents’ home. I wasn’t thinking of death, sorrow, mortgages, or loneliness. I was thinking about opportunities and the next chapter of my life. Now that I’m older, if I had been given an opportunity of possessive love and immortality as a teenager, I would have jumped at the chance, consequences be damned, because it would mean I could keep that sense of adventure and longing in a body that would know no age. And having been with my Husband for more than 15 years, the idea of being without him is devastating. While I may have (a lot of) issues with the characters of this book series, I do understand Bella’s desire to stay with the love of her life for all of eternity. 

Twilight, and other similar teen horror romance titles such as The Vampire Diaries and Vampire Academy, are horror narratives wrapped inside a passionate teenage love story. These novels share the theme of lost opportunities and unfilled promises. It’s the fantasy of living forever in an unforgiving world with a chosen family who will provide and support you because of who you are. It’s the idea that despite the horrors of mortality, especially now in a year of lockdowns and destruction, we can survive and live deliciously. 

Horror Graphic Novels

In the past fifteen years or so, the children’s graphic novel market has exploded. Thanks in part to series such as Dog Man, Amulet, and The Baby-sitters Club graphic novel adaptations, as well as Raina Telgemeier’s realistic fiction titles, graphic novels have shifted from beyond the superhero genre into a medium in which children can explore issues and concepts that were once reserved only to prose titles. Children’s graphic novels gained further recognition this year when Jerry Craft’s New Kid won the 2020 Newbery Medal - an award given by the Association for Library Services to Children in recognition for “distinguished contributions to American literature for children.”

In my interactions with parents, there is still a stigma attached to the medium. Since graphic novels are primarily pictures that means it’s like a picture book and therefore has no worth in a child’s reading habits. Or it’s easily dismissed as simple fluff. Yet, graphic novels are a fantastic gateway into reading for children. I have worked with immigrant children who used graphic novels as a way to learn English. I have worked with reluctant readers who were hesitant to try out graphic novels only to return demanding more. Plus, graphic novels are a fantastic method to teach art appreciation. 

In regards to horror, I recognize that I’m essentially preaching to the choir when I talk about the blending of comics/graphic novels and horror. The medium and the genre have had a long history of working together to create memorable works of art and entertainment. The pulpy horror comics of the 1940s have had a large influence over horror content for decades and even up to this day. 

Since kids horror graphic novels tend not to be as graphic as teen and adult horror titles, horror themes can slip easily into stories through other genres. This is a great way to explore horrific tropes without creating chaotic nightmares. Here are some of my favorite spooky graphic novels perfect for young readers and readers looking to expand their knowledge of the genre.  

Anya’s Ghost, written and illustrated by Vera Bogsol

I adore ghost stories, especially in children’s and teen literature. There’s something so deliciously creepy about how children and teens can perceive different things from adults or how children and teens are willing to accept something supernatural within their normal routines.

With Anya’s Ghost, Vera Bogsol mixes her immigrant experiences with a ghost story to discuss what it means to find your place in the world. Anya is embarrassed that she’s a Russian immigrant. She has worked hard to hide her Russian accent and to fit in with the popular crowd. When Anya meets a ghost after accidently falling into a well, she discovers that what we perceive in others can be vastly different. Anya’s Ghost is creepy but also serves as a wonderful story about discovering self worth.  

(Want more awkward teens in horror? Try The Okay Witch by Emma Steinkellner) 

Coraline, written by Neil Gaiman, illustrated by P. Craig Russell

I know that this is a bit of a cheat since Coraline was originally published as a prose title as well as adapted brilliantly by the fine folks of Laika into a gorgeous animated feature…. BUT….this book is perfect for reluctant readers. Another trend in graphic novels has been graphic adaptations of popular prose titles. Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series, Phillip Pullman’s The Golden Compass, and Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time have all had graphic novel adaptations created in recent years. For reluctant readers, it’s a great way to visualize the story if they’re not connecting with the story in prose format. 

The graphic novel adaptation of Coraline is lovely. P. Craig Russell art resembles a mixture of dreams and nightmares. What I love about Gaiman’s writing is that he never talks down to his audience. He respects children and their unique understanding of the world that can be easily forgotten once we become adults. Gaiman knows that Coraline is a horrific story. He knows this will terrify readers. He also knows that with this story, as well as his other works, we’re able to explore horror in a safe space to be prepared for the real life horrors we later encounter.  

(Already a fan of Coraline? Try the Courtney Crumrin series by Ted Naifeh) 

Hilda series, written and illustrated by Luke Pearson

If you’ve watched the Hilda series on Netflix, you’re familiar with the concept behind Luke Pearson’s original graphic novel collection. Hilda is a young girl who lives with her mother in the city. She loves exploring as well as discovering the magic around her world. The animated adaptation follows the graphic novel pretty closely but like all book-to-visual media adaptations, there are some differences that are worth a look. 

This is a great series that combines children’s horror with fantasy, specifically with the various magical creatures that Hilda and her friends discover. Trolls are a constant threat for the city. Mini-elves have constructed a horrific bureaucracy. Magic is very, very, old. The art is delightful and the story is highly engaging. I have reread this series numerous times and I will probably reread it again in the near future. 

(Can’t get enough Hilda? Try Nightlights & Hicotea, written and illustrated by Lorena Alvarez)

Bone, written and illustrated by Jeff Smith

This is one of those examples in the “horror is subjective” category. Jeff Smith’s brilliant Bone series is high fantasy. There are epic battles, a princess, a dragon, legends, and a prophecy. It’s heartwarming and possesses great comedic timing throughout its pages. It’s a series I love to recommend because there is something for everyone. But I will make the case that this series is also horrific. 

Okay, let’s consider your personal definition of horror. Now compare that with a child’s definition of horror. When I was a kid, I was terrified of Star Wars. I remember seeing pictures of Darth Vader and having nightmares for over a year. There was a tree outside my bedroom that I thought resembled the Dark Lord of the Sith whenever I lay in bed at night. It wasn’t logical but to a child with an active imagination, logic is a silly notion. That I’m now married to a Star Wars junkie and my apartment is crawling with action figures is hilarious in retrospective. 

Bone has horrific elements to its story. There are magical creatures that desire destruction and that could be terrifying for a child. When I first read the final battle sequence, I couldn’t help but feel terrified and anxious for the characters. It’s a great example of what it means to face your fears in unknown situations - a lesson we’re all still learning. Yes, Bone is a fantasy series but let’s start recognizing how horror can creep into any genre and still make an impact. 

(Looking to explore more high-fantasy graphic novels with hints of horror? Try the Amulet series by Kazu Kibuishi)

Further Recommended Reading

Through the Woods, written and illustrated by Emily Carroll

Witches of Brooklyn, written and illustrated by Sophie Escabasse 

The Graveyard Book Graphic Adaptation, written by Neil Gaiman, illustrated by various artists

Johnny Boo!, written and illustrated by James Kochalka

The Witch Boy, written and illustrated by Molly Ostertag

Ghostopolis, written and illustrated by Doug TenNapel

Lumberjanes, created by Shannon Watters, Grace Ellis, Brooklyn A. Allen and Noelle Stevenson

Kids Book Nook: Horror for Youthful Beginners

With the recent influx of fantastic horror films, television programs, and streaming content, it’s easy to forget that horror can be for any age. I grew up watching Scooby Doo, the Addams Family, and the Munsters. I have great affection for the Munsters since my maternal grandparents were also named Herman and Lily. Even though these programs didn’t always showcase jump scares, gore and violence, there were still horrific elements that I could easily categorize as horror as I was aware that monsters in these programs were supposed to be scary. If something is scary that would equate as horrific. 

We shouldn’t discount horror for children merely because it’s not as graphic as horror for adults. Horror for children is a great way to explore emotions and learn about fear. Children can discover that it’s okay to be scared. There are ways to control your fear and fight against the darkness. Sometimes it’s the thrill of the scare and the anticipation of what happens on the next page that makes horror such a delight. Plus, children’ picture books about ghosts and other creepy creatures are more likely to be cute and adorable and sometimes we need that spark of joy to make everything feel okay. 

Here are a few of my favorite original horror-themed picture books that are perfect for young readers. 

Sir, Simon

Written and Illustrated by Cale Atkinson

Cale Atkinson is an amazing artist and author. My favorite artists are those who understand that background images in a picture book are just as important as the characters. There are little nuances throughout this story and I can’t help but wonder if we’re seeing the influence of Hayao Miyazaki’s artistry. 

Sir Simon is the story of a ghost assigned to his first haunted house. What follows is a lesson on empathy and understanding when Sir Simon meets the human who now resides in this home. Even ghosts have chores to complete before they can work on their first novel. 

Bonus points if you find a famous horrific film director within the pages.

Boo! Haiku

Written by Deanna Caswell, Illustrated by Bob Shea

I love interactive storytime books. These are the types of picture books that play well with an audience as it allows children to be part of the story-telling experience. Deanna Caswell has two haiku titles - one with animals and one with horror/halloween icons. Each haiku is written as a clue. Bob Shea’s delightful artwork is revealed on the next page with the answer. This book is a great way to engage young readers who may not be familiar with different Halloween terms. It’s also a way to explore poetry and how poetry comes in different formats. 

Creepy Carrots and Creepy Pair of Underwear

Written by Aaron Reynolds, Illustrated by Peter Brown

If you want to introduce the concept of a slasher film to a child, this series is the best way to begin. Jasper Rabbit is addicted to carrots. The carrots from Crackenhopper Field are the most delicious and readily available. Everything seems fine and dandy until the day that Jasper gets the feeling that someone is watching him. The carrots are after Jasper and no one believes him. 

Creepy Carrots has great tension and does very well during storytime. I’m a tremendous admirer of Peter Brown’s art and will always recommend his writing as well. The sequel, Creepy Pair of Underwear, is just as delightful as the first book and really plays into the concept of learning to control one’s fear. 

Shivery Shades of Halloween

Written by Mary McKenna Siddals, Illustrated by Jimmy Pickering

Concept books are a wonderful tool to help with a child’s education. Before a child enters kindergarten, they should know the alphabet, basic counting, shapes, and colors. Shivery Shades of Halloween is a great concept book that ties the concept of colors with Halloween imagery. The story is also written in rhyme so young readers will get a kick out of the different color descriptions.

Hoot Owl, Master of Disguise

Written by Sean Taylor, Illustrated by Jean Jullien

This book is pure camp and would be paired well with any extravagant screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show. The story starts with Hoot Owl searching for his next meal. As he stalks his prey, Hoot Owl repeatedly monologues before takes action. Each scenarios is hilarious and young readers will delight in Hoot Owl’s antics. When I read this book during storytime, I encourage children to laugh maniacally after Hoot Owl’s monologues as if we were classical serial villains. I may or may not add a twirling of a mustache.