Dusty List: Grim by Sara B. Elfgren

I like reading novels that have been translated into English. It’s a good way to see different perspectives, and the stories don’t always follow the same narrative conventions that I’m used to.

Unfortunately, not everyone feels the same way. Which meant that Grim by Sara B. Elfgren, and translated by Judith Kiros has been sitting on library shelves for too long without being checked out. It ended up on the dreaded Dusty list: a list of books that haven’t been checked out within the last 1-2 years. That made Grim a prime target to be discarded.

But the problem was that I still wanted to read the book. So, instead of discarding it, I checked it out.

Grim by Sara B. Elfgren is a Swedish death metal horror novel, and if you don’t like any of those words, we shouldn’t hang out.

Our story starts with Kasper getting a job at the amusement park Gröna Lund. Kasper is a nineteen-year-old who’s coming out of a deep depression, but quickly finds friends among the staff at the House of Demons, the haunted house he works at. He first connects with Iris over her favorite death metal band, Dark Cruelty. Dark Cruelty was one of the first Swedish death metal bands, and is still legendary in metal circles. But Kasper’s love for Dark Cruelty goes beyond fandom: his dad, Håkan, was the founder and bassist for Dark Cruelty. Dark Cruelty broke up after the unexplained death of the lead vocalist, Grim. Though Grim died before Kasper was born, there’s a strange connection between them. It can’t be coincidence that Kasper keeps having vivid dreams about Grim. Something powerful is pulling them together, and Kasper is desperate to understand what it is.

The book alternates between Kasper in the modern day, and Håkan in the 80s, at the start of the Swedish death metal scene. Håkan’s chapters show us the rise and fall of Dark Cruelty, starting with the band’s founding. When Grim joins, he changes everything.

I had a hard time classifying this book as any one particular genre. I described it to others as a horror or mystery, and it has elements of both. I think a modern Gothic describes it best.

There are several elements that make Gothic novels, well, Gothic. These elements might change based on who you’re asking, but there’s a few that are generally agreed upon: a spooky setting, like a castle or mansion; supernatural occurrences; passionate relationships; a Byronic hero; and an overall pervading atmosphere of gloom. I want to break these elements down here, because they’re what made the book feel so fresh for me and scarily personal.

Architecture is a notable feature of Gothic novels, like gloomy castles and spooky mansions. There are no castles or mansions in Grim, but Kasper works in a labyrinthine haunted house where several frightening incidents occur, including the book’s climax. In the 80s timeline, Dark Cruelty uses a dilapidated building as the setting for their album’s photoshoot. Grim is also an urban explorer, and takes Håkan to abandoned train tunnels and a subterranean lake. These settings a major role in the story, and continue to haunt Håkan in the present day.

Another hallmark of Gothic writing is supernatural elements. Most of the supernatural events in Grim take place in the present-day timeline. Kasper has strange, vivid dreams about Grim, an eerie injury that won’t heal, and witnesses…something in the haunted house. Kasper’s connection to the late singer keeps getting stronger, and it’s threatening to undo him.

There are some supernatural elements in the 80s timeline as well. Grim and Malte, Dark Cruelty’s guitar player, attempt magic rituals to summon demons or gain powers. Skeptical Håkan wants nothing to do with them, but he still takes part in one to please Grim.

Then, we have a Byronic hero. The Byronic hero is proud, troubled, secretly sensitive, mysterious, and passionate. But our Byronic hero isn’t Kasper, or even Håkan. It’s Grim.

By the time Kasper is born, Grim has become a legend in death metal circles. A talented vocalist who died young (or maybe he was murdered?) under mysterious circumstances. The truth of who the real Grim was is known only to his inner circle. Even Håkan admits that most of Grim’s life before the band is unknown to him. And Grim has passion for so many things: magick, death metal, and especially the band. Dark Cruelty is more than a band to Grim. Even though he wasn’t a founding member, Dark Cruelty is his life’s work. His passion is what draws people to him.

But he’s troubled as well. Grim is plagued by his own mental health. He could be read as having bipolar disorder or depression, or may just be a victim of a toxic relationship.

Another characteristic of Gothic fiction is passionate relationships. Typically, this would be between our handsome, brooding hero and a pale, beautiful woman. But in Grim, these relationships aren’t romantic. They’re friendships and rivalries, and this was one of the elements of the book that resonated with me so strongly. Håkan’s found a kindred spirit in Grim. They’re best friends, and even though Håkan doesn’t believe in demons and magick the way Grim does, he likes the way Grim sees the world. But as time goes on, their relationship starts to deteriorate. This coincides with Malte joining the band, whose dark presence will loom over Kasper. Grim begins to spend more time with Malte, a toxic friendship that leads to Grim’s downward spiral.

What resonated so strongly with me was Håkan’s reaction to Grim and Malte’s friendship. He’s jealous. Jealous that Grim is spending so much time with Malte, and jealous that they’re forming something that just the two of them belong to. There’s no room for Håkan in the world of magick that Grim and Malte are building.

I’m in my thirties. I don’t do high school drama anymore. But two years ago, this was something I felt so keenly, as a grown adult. I felt foolish and immature. How old was I, to be jealous of a friend paying less attention to me? But it still hurt. It turns out age doesn’t matter when it comes to things like that.

The good thing about being in my thirties was that I had the insight to talk to my friend about my feelings, and we repaired the friendship. (I’ll just state for the record – this was not all her fault. I had to step back and work on myself too.)

But Håkan and Grim aren’t adults. They’re teenagers. Håkan wants to reach Grim when he sees his friend spiraling into depression, but he doesn’t know how. It’s painful to read, especially if you’ve ever seen someone you care about going through something similar.

This aspect of the novel really stands out to me. While there are some YA novels about friendship, you’re far more likely to see a romantic relationship take center stage. Most of those YAs about friendship usually star girls as well. Of those few friendship-based novels about boys, I don’t think I’ve ever read one which covered jealousy like this.

The last thing a Gothic novel needs is a pervasive gloomy atmosphere. Which Grim did, but not in the way that you might expect. There’s a spectre hanging over Kasper, and it’s not just Grim. It’s depression.

When the book starts, Kasper is coming out of a deep and dangerous depression. Starting a job at the haunted house and making new friends is a huge leap forward for him. But every time he feels happy and comfortable, he starts doubting himself. He tells himself he doesn’t deserve this and fears losing everything. His depression lies, saying things like he only got his job because of his step-brother. His friend Iris only likes him because she’s a Dark Cruelty fan. His dad helped start Sweden’s death metal scene when he was younger than Kasper is now – and what has Kasper done with his life?

It wasn’t just that I felt for Kasper in these moments. I’ve been Kasper. So many of us have been Kasper. And it just makes me ache. I wish I could reach through the pages of the book and hug him (and spoil the ending, to save him a lot of trouble).

In one scene, Kasper opens up to Iris about his mental health struggles, and Iris shares her own with him. For me, this was the most powerful scene in the book. It really stayed with me. I even printed out a page from the ebook and made blackout poetry from it.

There are plenty of creepy moments that add to the gloomy atmosphere – a party that Kasper is definitely not supposed to be at is a stand-out – but for me, the shadow of depression lingering over him is the most haunting part of the book.

I’m really glad that I picked Grim off the shelf. I can’t think of another book I’ve read that’s quite like this. Atmospheric horror and supernatural elements combined to make something so real and haunting. If this Gothic sounds interesting to you, check it out.

And let me know if you do, because I need to talk to someone about that ending.

Indie Review: OMG UR a Teenager!

I’m a Reedsy Discovery reviewer! I received a free ARC of OMG UR a Teenager! by Leslie Young for this review.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Twelve-year-old Kat Cruz can’t wait for her next birthday. Before she can become a teenager, though, she’ll have to make it through seventh grade. The year starts off rough when her parents buy the most run-down house in the neighborhood, and a bully snaps a picture of Kat in front of her new house. She’s constantly stuck babysitting her younger brother, who thinks he’s a superhero. Kat’s editorials in the school newspaper make a splash, but not always in a good way. She’s also crushing on her new neighbor, Will, despite the fact that his mom doesn’t seem to like her. With new challenges every day, will Kat make it to her thirteenth birthday in one piece? 

OMG UR a Teenager by Leslie Young is a contemporary slice-of-life novel full of clear, crisp writing that makes it easy for young readers to get into the story. The relatability will keep them invested throughout the book. Kat experiences things that many kids going through pre-adolescence face: bullying, the excitement and mortification of buying your first bra, and changing family dynamics. Most of all, she wants to be seen as the mature nearly-teen she is, not a child and permanent babysitter for her little brother, Max. Tween readers will understand exactly how she feels, and adults will easily recall both the joys and pains of middle school.

Kat’s family dynamic is true to life as well, with well-intentioned parents who don’t understand their daughter’s point of view, an annoying little brother that Kat loves (even if she wants to kill him sometimes), and her vivacious grandmother whose Alzheimer’s puts extra strain on the family. Kat’s and Max’s relationship is developed particularly well, showing their closeness (especially in the climax), even if they don’t always get along. However, Gran’s storyline wasn’t as well-developed, making her inclusion in the book feel unnecessary.

At times the story can feel disjointed, such as an abrupt cut from summer to Halloween. Like Gran’s story, some plot points are dropped without a conclusion. Kat’s narration is also, at times, too mature to be realistic for a twelve-year-old. While adult readers might have to stretch their suspension of disbelief at some of Kat’s inner monologues, tween readers may find her insights useful in their own lives.

Overall, OMG UR a Teenager is a warm-hearted, relatable story for tweens, and anyone who’s ever been one.

Once Upon a Time: Traditional Literature

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.


Apologies for missing last week’s post; I was ill. 

I want to take a break from our regularly-scheduled book rants to talk a bit about traditional literature. The term“traditional literature” might conjure up images of stodgy old books with nigh-unreadable prose for the modern reader. But you might be surprised to learn that you’ve probably been reading traditional literature since you were a kid! Traditional literature encompasses stories and poems that have been passed down from generation to generation, such as myths, fairy tales, and nursery rhymes. 

Traditional stories rely on patterns, motifs, symbols, and tropes. These stories were passed down orally long before they were ever written down, and using those storytelling devices helped both the teller and the listener to remember the story. Familiar patterns also helped listeners participate in stories by providing clues about what will happen next. We still use many of these today, opening with “once upon a time” and ending with “and they lived happily ever after.” 

Folk traditions in storytelling are both unique and universal. Many folklore stories from across the world share the same tropes, but use the story teller’s culture as a backdrop for the tale. Compare “The Rough-Faced Girl,” “Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters,” and “The Irish Cinder Lad.” They’re all versions of the French Cinderella story, but come from the Algonquin Nation, Zimbabwe, and Ireland, respectively. 

Settings tend to be used again and again, with reliable associations. In the Anglo-European tradition, many stories start in a cottage, where simple, everyday folk live. A castle is where some aspire to be, and reaching it symbolizes success. The forest is dark, where mysterious creatures live and dangerous and unpredictable things happen. The road is where characters encounter new people and influences. This is a place where change occurs. 

Characterization relies heavily on archetypes. Each character plays a clear role: hero, villain, helper, trickster, numbskull, etc., though some characters represent more than one. In Jack and the Beanstalk, for example, Jack is both a hero and a trickster. 

Traditional stories often follow the monomyth structure, sometimes called the hero’s journey. The hero begins living a simple life at home, but problems arise that call them to go on a quest. They face challenges, meet a helper (often a mentor-figure), are validated as a hero by powerful forces, wins their prize, and changes by the end of the story. 

There are also several different types of traditional stories, such as fables, legends, folk tales, tall tales, fairy tales, and myths. Some are meant to teach lessons, such as Aesop’s fables, and others attempt to explain natural phenomena, such as winter being caused by the goddess Persephone being in Hades. 

Now that we know a little about how traditional literature works, I want to talk about its importance. Like a lot of children, I knew stories like Little Red Riding Hood and Goldilocks and the Three Bears by heart before I could even read. I didn’t just learn traditional stories from books, either. I learned them from movies (especially Disney), TV shows, songs, crafts, and my friends. Fairy tales and other forms of traditional literature are ubiquitous in early childhood. 

I don’t think it’s just because these are well-known and well-loved stories that our parents and grandparents grew up with. Nor is it that they’re in the public domain and therefore free for media companies and publishers to create work from. Both of those things play a big role in keeping traditional tales a mainstay of our culture, but I don’t think they’re the only factors. 

I think another big factor that contributes to traditional stories surviving for centuries is how concrete they are. When you look at these stories, the protagonists typically need to overcome some physical obstacle, be it a big bad wolf or a wicked step-mother. Things also tend to be black and white: either you are good, and will have a happy ending, or you are bad, and will be defeated. Some stories may have a simple moral that a child can apply to everyday life. 

Young children are very much concrete thinkers. Abstract concepts can be difficult for them to grasp. Think back to learning math when you were young. Numbers are an abstract idea, until you have something to count. For me, learning addition and subtraction was the same as adding or taking away beans from a pile. In Piaget’s Stages of Cognitive Development, he theorizes that children have difficulty with abstract concepts until around age 12. Until then, children understand the world in a physical way.

That means there isn’t a lot of room for nuance when it comes to stories. The characters are good or bad; they will succeed or they will fail. I once heard a preschooler, upon seeing a picture of Elsa from Frozen, say that Elsa was “mean.” Elsa went from foe to friend over the course of Frozen, but for this child, Elsa couldn’t be both. She was the bad guy at the start of the movie, and for this child, that’s where she stayed until the end. 

Traditional stories don’t really have character development, except for maybe the character learning a lesson at the end. But the nature of traditional stories is that they don’t need character development. Little Red Riding Hood having a dark night of the soul in the wolf’s belly wouldn’t add anything important to the story, and it would confuse the heck out of its young readers. 

The black-and-white, simple structures of traditional stories combined with how prominent they are in children’s lives means that the messages in those old stories means that the messages within them are very easy to ingrain in a child’s mind. 

It’s also not a huge leap to say that old fairy tales don’t always have great messages by today’s standards. Damsels in distress and beauty equating to goodness are both common examples of this.* But there are also many lovely stories that have positive messages, too. One of my favorite fairy tales since I was a kid is the Three Billy Goats Gruff, where cleverness wins the day. There’s plenty of value to be found in traditional literature, and we should be conscientious of what stories, songs, and poems we share with children today.

*I also recommend against kissing frogs.

Banned Book: Flamer by Mike Curato

This is the last post of the year! I will be taking a break in January and be back in February.


New on the ALA’s Banned Book list this year is the graphic novel Flamer by Mike Curato. If you’re a picture book aficionado, you might already be familiar with his work, such as the Little Elliot series.

In 2022, Flamer became challenged and banned books in the U.S. due to LGBTQIA+ content, and being considered as “sexually explicit.” Despite this, the book has received high praise from critics, but I think the blurb on the cover says it all.

This book will save lives.

Jarret J. Krosoczka

Fourteen-year-old Aiden Navarro isn’t excited to go to high school. He was frequently bullied at his Catholic middle school, and fears that public high school will be much worse. His parents’ frequent fights don’t make his home life easy, either. Thankfully, he has an escape during the summer at sleep away Boy Scout camp. Aiden loves scouting, but the Summer of ’95 isn’t going to be like any camp experience he’s had before. As the summer goes on, Aiden finds himself drawn to his confidant bunk mate, Elias. At first Aiden thinks that he admires Elias’s confidence and friendly nature. It can’t be a crush, right? That would make Aiden gay. And if being gay is a sin that can condemn you to hell (and get you kicked out of Boy Scouts), then it must be pretty bad. And Aiden isn’t a bad kid.

So he can’t be gay…right?

The last two weeks of summer camp are filled with some great memories – and also some terrible ones. Though Aiden makes great friends and loves camp, he’s also subjected to homophobic and racist bullying. When things look at their bleakest, Aiden wonders: does his life really have value?

The comic is in black and white, except when fire and a few other important objects are depicted. Flames are yellow, red, and orange, the only colors in the book. It’s used to great effect, especially in the climax and resolution.

Non-spoiler review: Flamer hits on heavy real-life topics that many tweens and teens can relate to. The main themes of identity and growing up are relevant to everyone, not just LGBTQIA+ youth. There is some mild sexual content, so I’d recommend this book to kids 13-14 and older.

I want to talk about the reasons that Flamer was challenged, banned, removed, or relocated.

One of the reasons was that Flamer is “sexually explicit.” Is it? Well, I think that depends on who you ask. Explicit-ness can be subjective and your feelings about what is and is not “sexually explicit” can change with time and experience. Some of the things that made me blush when I was fourteen I’m totally comfortable with now and I wouldn’t consider “explicit” today. Whether you find the sexual content in the book offensive or too much is really up to your own comfort levels. For me, the sexual content in Flamer was a little uncomfortable to read, but it wasn’t graphic. It seemed realistic and fit with the overall theme and story of the book. I can’t really object to it.

The other major complaint against Flamer is that it contains LGBTQIA+ content. And, well, duh. It’s a story about a young teenager accepting himself as gay.

As we saw earlier, LGBTQIA+ content was a really common reason given to challenge/ban books for the last 10 years. I won’t beat around the bush: this is homophobia and transphobia. There’s no other way to explain it. Otherwise, why would perfectly innocent (and adorable) books like And Tango Makes Three or This Day in June be challenged so frequently? I wouldn’t hand an elementary-age child Flamer; it’s not appropriate for the age group. But a cute picture book about a same-sex couple like Prince and Knight? Well, I wouldn’t have a problem suggesting that to a young child.

Because queer people (and penguins) exist. Everyone – from all walks of life – need to see themselves represented in media, but I think this is especially true for kids. Our early experiences shape our lives, and it’s important to see ourselves reflected in what we watch and read. Simply put, if you can’t see it, you can’t be it.

Beyond this point, there are going to be spoilers. If you’re interested in reading Flamer, check it out before you scroll down. I’d hate to ruin the (awesome) ending for you.

Content warning: there will be mentions of suicide from here on out. If that’s not something you want to read about, it’s okay to sit this one out. Mental health resources can be found at the bottom of this post.

Towards the end of Flamer, Aiden feels that everyone has turned against him. His best friend hasn’t written him back after he hinted at being gay in his most recent letter to her; a camp counselor he looked up to was removed from camp after he was discovered to be gay; Elias has been avoiding Aiden after Aiden surprised him with a kiss on his cheek. After yet another day of harsh bullying, Aiden can’t see how his life will ever get better. It feels like it would be better to end it now, and save himself years of misery. He runs to the camp’s outdoor chapel with a pocket knife and plans to take his own life.

Before Aiden can harm himself, he is taken to a strange place filled with darkness and fire. In a beautiful sequence, he speaks to “the fire of life” within himself. It challenges him: why is Aiden trying to destroy them both? They are not weak. They deserve to live. In this encounter, Aiden realizes that his life may not be as easy as his friends’, but it still has value. He still deserves to live. No matter what happens, he is enough. Just as he is.

It’s a powerful moment.

Even more powerful when you consider that suicide is the second leading cause of death among teens in the United Sates. LGBTQIA+ youth are at a higher risk for suicide, especially when they live in environments that are not supportive of their identities.

LGBTQ youth are not inherently prone to suicide risk because of their sexual orientation or gender identity but rather placed at higher risk because of how they are mistreated and stigmatized in society.

The Trevor Project, Facts about LGBTQ Youth Suicide, 2021

Aiden is fictional. But his feelings are real to those who’ve lived through them. The impact that Flamer can have on its readers is also very real. No matter how bad things have been for Aiden, or how bad they might get, he knows that he as value as a human being. And that’s a really great message, especially for teenagers. Even more so for LGBTQIA+ youth who need to see someone with the same struggles they’re going through, and come through it feeling strong.

One last thing to really drive the message home: Flamer is true. Well, parts of it. Flamer is a semi-autobiographical graphic novel, inspired by author and illustrator Mike Curato’s experiences as a gay Boy Scout in the 90s. In an author’s note at the end of the book, Curato shares some of his internal conflicts when he was Aiden’s age, and some memories from camp.

Including his suicide attempt in the camp’s chapel.

Curato survived, and went on to become a much-loved, award-winning illustrator. And now his story – and Aiden’s – is there to tell kids like him you are worthwhile. You are valued. You are enough.

And I cannot imagine why anyone who would be so cruel as to take that message away from kids who so badly need to hear it.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US): 1-800-273-8255
List of Suicide Crisis Lines (Worldwide)
The Trevor Project Lifeline: 1-866-488-7386 | Text: START to 678-678 | Online chat available
Q Chat Space

More resources can be found here: https://booksoverlookedblog.com/resources/