As I write this, I’m in the process of packing up for a move.  My first in 16 years.  While going through books (so many books), I came across a bunch of advanced readers copies (ARCs) of various books I acquired while working at a bookstore.  I know I read several way back when, but obviously a bunch slipped through and ended up in the overwhelming mess of books I’m trying to deal with.  Anyway, one I came across looked like it would be a quick read, so I pulled it from the pile and gave it a look.  That book is Kiersten White and Jim Di Bartolo’s In the Shadows.

I assume this was sold as a Teen novel when it was officially released.  The characters are teenagers and it has a “PG-13” vibe as far as the sex and violence goes.  It reminded me of early/mid 20th Century juvenile novels; the sort of thing I often lump into the subgenre of “Kid Adventure” stories.  There’s a hint of the Gothic about things, the sort of Pre-Great War wistful sadness.  It might be weird to lump these authors together, but I was in turns reminded of Ray Bradbury, Clive Barker, Madeleine L’Engle, Stephen King, Shirley Jackson, and Richard Mathison.

Part of what makes the book special or unique (or unusual at the least), is that the story is told in two very different ways.  The prose part is the story of several teenagers coming together for a summer at a boarding house in Maine around the turn of the 20th Century.  Especially in the beginning, this has a Bradbury-like longing for the excitement, adventure, and confusions of youth.  Two sisters; one serious and haunted, the other a bit chaotic.  Two brothers; one a protector with thwarted dreams, the other a terminally ill “golden” child.  And one mysterious boy with many secrets.  Together, they unravel a sinister mystery with supernatural repercussions.  There is a hopeful sadness that hangs over the whole thing.  Nostalgia-like, I suppose.  That happy/sad feeling.  Reading it, as an adult, you feel the longing for certain aspects of youth.  But the characters themselves feel the sadness, too.  Like they’re aware of an oncoming doom, but still have enough naivete to think they can avoid it.  In that way, I was reminded of Mike Mignola’s work, especially his Hellboy comics.

The other part of the story is told in a wordless, painted comic.  For this story, it is left to the reader to piece things together, and to try to figure out what it has to do with the prose story.  Who is the mysterious young man with the facial scar?  Why does he seem so ageless?  

This paragraph might be a bit of a spoiler, though I won’t mention any specific plot points or character moments.  What I find odd and sort of fascinating about the book is that, in a world where series are so important, this one book essentially tells the story of a long series of books.  What you get is the first story in prose, and then the highlights of the rest of the books through the comic.  Without having to read through multiple sequel novels that might vary in quality and take ten years to be released, you find out the “and then,” of everything, until it builds to a satisfying conclusion.  And by cutting back and forth between the “now” of the turn of the century summer and the future of the scar-faced young man, it manages to keep a lot of mysteries while opening up the overall story.  

Do I think this book is destined to be a classic?  Obviously not.  I don’t think I ever heard anyone talk about it.  I don’t remember shelving the actual release at the bookstore I worked at.  I don’t think it was a big seller or anything.  I’ve seen nobody revisiting it and reevaluating it.  Another in a massive avalanche of here today, gone tomorrow novels.  Success in publishing is fickle on the best of days, and the last 20 years has not been the best of days for authors or their books.  That said, I very much enjoyed the book.  I recommend reading the book if anything I’ve said about it sounds interesting at all.

Additionally, on a purely personal note, this book did something that little I’ve read recently has done.  It made me want to write.  I have had a not great year when it comes to writing.  A profound malaise, compounded by recurring technical problems and some big life changes have made it difficult for me to get my brain and fingers to work together to produce anything.  I think book reviews have been the only thing I’ve produced since May (I’m writing this on October 1st).  I haven’t written a word on my novel since, I believe, May.  I haven’t even tried to write a short story or anything, since before that.  I’ll carry a notebook with me on a trip or a commute with every intention of writing something and…nothing.  Nothing at all.  I’ve got the ideas in my head, but I can’t gather the will to try to spit them onto the page.  I haven’t really wanted to, while also being desperate to do so.  Reading this book got my writing juices flowing.  There are a few authors that do this for me.  I take inspiration from countless authors, but only a few make me desperate to put pen to paper and tell my own stories.  In fact, the only one I can regularly count on for such feelings is Clark Ashton Smith.  Whenever I read a Smith short story, I’m overwhelmed by a desire to tell tales.  I felt that while I was reading In the Shadows.  For that alone I would be happy with my decision to read this book, and hope that others will do so as well. 

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