77 books like Doll Bones

It’s been said by smarter people than me how writing horror for kids isn’t about scaring them, it’s about showing them how brave they are.

A Monster Calls is the perfect illustration of that. The scariness and the spookiness are a stand-in for the real-life horrors that this kid is facing. Kids deal with a lot, and this book is the perfect example of how to survive when the worst happens.

The artwork too—wow! I wish I could get some of this artwork to hang on my walls. Absolutely gorgeous book.

I really don't know how Catriona Ward manages to balance the languid sadness and unrelenting tension so well.

Ward's profound empathy for every single character, no matter how flawed, is what twists your heart. At the same time, you feel as though you're on a roller coaster barreling at breakneck speed through pitch-black tunnels.

I wasn't always sure I understood what was going on from moment to moment, and that seems very much by design because, wow, what a twist! And the deeply felt depiction of the characters never made me feel like I was truly lost. I will indulge a great deal of mystery as long as it is presented by such a steady and skillful hand.

In this middle-grade horror novel, Steve is feeling lonely and worried. His newborn brother is sick in the hospital, and his parents are understandably stressed. There’s also a wasp’s nest threatening their home, which becomes a bigger problem when the wasp queen visits him in his dreams. One night, the queen comes to Steve and offers to help “fix” the baby.

I have read many, many horror books. I consider myself a connoisseur of the creepy. This book, intended for middle-grade children, remains one of the scariest books I’ve read. It’s filled with dread while also centering on family.

I can imagine a young Wednesday (as played by Christina Ricci or the late great Lisa Loring) reading this book and imagining what she would wish upon her own brother should a wasp queen approach her.

Neil Gaiman has probably had more of an impact on my brain and my writing than any other author. Selecting just one of his many incredible "dark and sad" books was a real challenge for me.

I settled on this one, in part because it is the perfect bookend to my previous recommendation, Doll Bones, in that it eloquently expresses the quiet joys, fears, and sorrows of childhood, as seen through the eyes of an adult who knows full well the meaning of loss, and the cost of things we can barely recognize, much less understand, when we are young.

Like the narrator of the book, I feel the ever-widening gulf between myself and my own memories. I also see it beginning for my offspring, who have both recently entered adulthood, and my heart breaks for all three of us.

I found this story collection by Machado to be not only dark and sad, but wickedly funny. How often does our laughter turn to tears, or vice versa? These things are not mutually exclusive, and Machado lives within that uncomfortably liminal space with obvious relish.

I also appreciate it's unabashed feminism. So much of the horror genre is seen through a male lens that leaves me feeling cold and left out. In Machado's writing, I feel not only seen but celebrated, and I will happily live within her ferociously accepting stories of darkness as many times as she offers them.

There are two things that I’ve always loved in my books: animal POV and spooky vibes.

This book has both! In so many ways, the things we face in our everyday life can feel like a horror story, or feel like monsters. For a fox, that would be things like rabies, hunters, fires, etc.

The prose was so good and so vivid, and I really worried with each different story how the little foxes were going to survive. One of my absolute favorites.

I still think about the setting of The Ash House all the time.

It is so vivid and so real. The eeriness and spookiness of this place starts from the first page, even the first sentence. We know something is off here in the ash house, and we watch as the main character starts being subsumed by the other kids here.

We worry as he starts losing his identity. But this is a powerful and haunting story about listening to yourself and remembering yourself no matter what else is going on around you, and no matter what anyone else believes.

I wanted to put a graphic novel on this list because gosh do I love 'em! In fact, it was tough to narrow it down to just one. And in the interest of full disclosure, I should probably say that Stephanie Hans also did an incredible cover for one of my GI Joe novels. I hasten to add, however, that this happened after I had already fallen head over heels for this series.

Gillen described this series as "Goth Jumanji," and I get why he chose such a pithy, clever pitch. It gives you a really hooky snapshot of the vibe. But it really doesn't do justice to the sublime, brutal sadness of this work. It is stunningly ambitious yet deeply human. The art is utterly gorgeous, even when it is also distressingly grotesque.

On a more personal note, I found the depiction of Ash, the primary protagonist who is… show more.

Guardians of the Flame is a fantasy series where seven college students get together for a night of role-playing games and suddenly find themselves in an alternative world of swords, magic, and deadly fire-breathing dragons. To get home they must find the mysterious “Gate Between World.” It is a witty adventure story any fan of fantasy can appreciate. It explores the question—what would happen if readers of fantasy were transported into their favorite fantasy world?

This book is an exploration of “geek culture” including Dungeons and Dragons but also other aspects of fandom like live-action-role-playing (LARPing), and Harry Potter fandom. 

This is not a theoretically weighty book, but the author did substantial field work trying to explore and understand these subcultures. The throughline of the book concerns the human fascination with imaginary realms and the cultural forms people will invent to connect with these realms and bring them to life. As a religious studies scholar, I see this longing for other worlds as a “religious” impulse.