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The small-town mysteries of John Bellairs are made modern with a dash of Stranger Things in this spine-tingling supernatural horror-thriller
After his father returns from treatment for addiction, highschooler Vish - lover of metal music and literature - is uncertain what the future holds. It doesn't help that everyone seems to know about the family's troubles, and they stand out doubly as one of the only brown families in town. When Vish is mistaken for a relative of the weird local bookseller and attacked by an unsettling pale man who seems to be decaying, he is pulled into the world of the occult, where witches live in television sets, undead creatures can burn with a touch, and magic is mathematical. Vish must work with the bookstore owner and his mysterious teenage employee, Gisela, to stop an interdimensional invasion that would destroy their peaceful town.
Bringing together scares, suspense, and body horror, The Grimmer is award-winning author Naben Ruthnum's first foray into the young adult genre. This gripping ride through the supernatural is loaded with vivid characters, frightening imagery, and astonishing twists, while tackling complex issues such as grief, racism, and addiction. Offbeat teenager Vish is forced to contend with family issues and the ghosts invading his hometown in The Grimmer, a supernatural YA horror-thriller in the tradition of The Graveyard Book.
Naben Ruthnum's most recent works are the novel A Hero of Our Time and the horror novella Helpmeet. He's written thrillers as Nathan Ripley and also writes for the screen. He lives in Toronto, Ontario.
"Excuse me. Are you related to the owner of this shop?" Vish almost screamed when this question was whispered at the back of his neck, because he could feel the speaker's breath, which smelled chemical, like bleach or chlorine. And because the voice wasn't the girl's, but an older man's. He hadn't heard the chime ring again, but there was someone else in the store.
Vish turned and saw another person he'd never seen before. Unlike the girl, this man looked like he was trying to blend in with the general Kelowna look, but had gotten it wrong. For one thing, he wasn't just untanned, he was as pale as the inside of a tree root. The knees and calves between his slightly too-short cargo shorts and black dress socks (another mistake) were so white they almost gave off a light of their own in the little bookshop. The t-shirt, with a snowboard company logo on it, was almost right, but it was sky blue and too young for the man, who was at least fifty. His hair was dyed blacker than Vish's, but there was a small thin mustache with a few white strands in it that glistened like mucous. He had the thinnest eyebrows Vish had ever seen on a man, which made his forehead look enormous, a big tank for a brain that Vish thought he would be able to see if the man stood with direct sunlight beaming onto that paper-pale skin. If Agastya had looked a bit sick, this man looked like he should be in bed for months.
"The owner will be right back. And no, we're not related."
"You work here."
"No."
"You just assumed he was related to the owner? Why?" The Septum-Pierced Girl had come around from the rare books corner holding a small hardcover in her right hand. She spoke with an accent, maybe German. Vish was glad she wasn't talking to him, because he wouldn't have been able to answer right away. The Thin-Eyebrowed Man turned to look at her, then spoke.
"The owner of this establishment is a man of subcontinental extraction. The young man I'm speaking to is of that race, as well. Virtually no-one else on these streets is. Hence my question. Should I apologize?" He said this last part to Vish.
"It's okay," Vish said. He was still staring at the now-inert snowboard logo. When the conversation didn't resume, and Vish looked up to see disappointment in the Septu
After his father returns from treatment for addiction, highschooler Vish - lover of metal music and literature - is uncertain what the future holds. It doesn't help that everyone seems to know about the family's troubles, and they stand out doubly as one of the only brown families in town. When Vish is mistaken for a relative of the weird local bookseller and attacked by an unsettling pale man who seems to be decaying, he is pulled into the world of the occult, where witches live in television sets, undead creatures can burn with a touch, and magic is mathematical. Vish must work with the bookstore owner and his mysterious teenage employee, Gisela, to stop an interdimensional invasion that would destroy their peaceful town.
Bringing together scares, suspense, and body horror, The Grimmer is award-winning author Naben Ruthnum's first foray into the young adult genre. This gripping ride through the supernatural is loaded with vivid characters, frightening imagery, and astonishing twists, while tackling complex issues such as grief, racism, and addiction. Offbeat teenager Vish is forced to contend with family issues and the ghosts invading his hometown in The Grimmer, a supernatural YA horror-thriller in the tradition of The Graveyard Book.
Naben Ruthnum's most recent works are the novel A Hero of Our Time and the horror novella Helpmeet. He's written thrillers as Nathan Ripley and also writes for the screen. He lives in Toronto, Ontario.
"Excuse me. Are you related to the owner of this shop?" Vish almost screamed when this question was whispered at the back of his neck, because he could feel the speaker's breath, which smelled chemical, like bleach or chlorine. And because the voice wasn't the girl's, but an older man's. He hadn't heard the chime ring again, but there was someone else in the store.
Vish turned and saw another person he'd never seen before. Unlike the girl, this man looked like he was trying to blend in with the general Kelowna look, but had gotten it wrong. For one thing, he wasn't just untanned, he was as pale as the inside of a tree root. The knees and calves between his slightly too-short cargo shorts and black dress socks (another mistake) were so white they almost gave off a light of their own in the little bookshop. The t-shirt, with a snowboard company logo on it, was almost right, but it was sky blue and too young for the man, who was at least fifty. His hair was dyed blacker than Vish's, but there was a small thin mustache with a few white strands in it that glistened like mucous. He had the thinnest eyebrows Vish had ever seen on a man, which made his forehead look enormous, a big tank for a brain that Vish thought he would be able to see if the man stood with direct sunlight beaming onto that paper-pale skin. If Agastya had looked a bit sick, this man looked like he should be in bed for months.
"The owner will be right back. And no, we're not related."
"You work here."
"No."
"You just assumed he was related to the owner? Why?" The Septum-Pierced Girl had come around from the rare books corner holding a small hardcover in her right hand. She spoke with an accent, maybe German. Vish was glad she wasn't talking to him, because he wouldn't have been able to answer right away. The Thin-Eyebrowed Man turned to look at her, then spoke.
"The owner of this establishment is a man of subcontinental extraction. The young man I'm speaking to is of that race, as well. Virtually no-one else on these streets is. Hence my question. Should I apologize?" He said this last part to Vish.
"It's okay," Vish said. He was still staring at the now-inert snowboard logo. When the conversation didn't resume, and Vish looked up to see disappointment in the Septu