Book review: The House with a Clock in its Walls
This weekend, I stumbled across a used copy of The House with a Clock in its Walls by John Bellairs. I'm pretty sure I'd read it before; I must have read every book of his when I was younger.
I've tried reading a few adult horror stories, and, despite being notoriously jumpy and easily startled such that I avoid horror movies, I rarely get creeped out by novels. Maybe it's that good children's authors focus on the more basic fears? I know that in any book store that you see me in, you can track me from the sci-fi and fantasy sections over to the kid's books and then on to general browsing.
It may be the memory of fear. I still get creeped out by most of Bellairs' stuff. I remember reading them and being so terrified that I was afraid to go to bed at night, and as I see the farmiliar words and drawings I'm instantly eleven years old again and sitting in my dad's big armchair with a mug of hot chocolate.
Kelly H. Watts
I've tried reading a few adult horror stories, and, despite being notoriously jumpy and easily startled such that I avoid horror movies, I rarely get creeped out by novels. Maybe it's that good children's authors focus on the more basic fears? I know that in any book store that you see me in, you can track me from the sci-fi and fantasy sections over to the kid's books and then on to general browsing.
It may be the memory of fear. I still get creeped out by most of Bellairs' stuff. I remember reading them and being so terrified that I was afraid to go to bed at night, and as I see the farmiliar words and drawings I'm instantly eleven years old again and sitting in my dad's big armchair with a mug of hot chocolate.
Kelly H. Watts
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