The children are reading horror in large numbers. The children have always read horror in large numbers, but the librarians are starting to note the checkouts rising. In fact, later this month I will have a post with more facts about this claim.
As I wear my hat as on of the Co-Chairs of Summer Scares, I have also noticed more school and public libraries using the Summer Scares selections and programming guides to engage kids with horror all year long.
The increase is so noticeable, we have recruited two Middle Grade librarians to help us as we craft the programing guide for 2027. We have always had volunteers who work with an adults and teens, but for the Middle Grade programming ideas and planning, we have not had specific experts.
No longer. This year we welcome both a public library and a school library MG Horror expert to our Summer Scares Programming Guide team.
But before we put them to work on the guide, I asked both to introduce themselves by sharing a Why I Love Horror essay with all of you.
Yesterday we heard from Maisie Iven. Today it is Jose Cruz:
Jose Cruz is an elementary school librarian and author based in southwest Florida. His scary chapter book, NIGHT LIGHT, is out now from Capstone Publishing. He is also the host of School Book Scare, a podcast dead-icated to the world of middle grade horror and the people who bring it to life, from authors to librarians and everyone in between. He is currently hard at work on his first middle grade novel and trying to convince the world that kids should be able to read the things that interest them. He has three kids, two cats, and one wife.
I met Jose at StokerCon last June. He won the Scholarship from Hell which pays for an emerging writer to come to StokerCon. I was connected with Jose before we got to Pittsburgh because, as well as being a writer, he is also a school librarian.
I am so glad he applied and was chosen because the Libraries Committee has plans for him and Maisie. As I mentioned above we are excited to have them help enrich our programming offering for kids. More on that soon, but first, here is Jose on Why he loves horror...
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Why I Love Horror
by Jose Cruz
“Mr. Cruz, where do you keep the scary books?”
It’s a question I get at least once a week. Once answered, I watch as a horde of students swarm around four tall shelves with dark, foreboding signage. The words “SPOOKY” and “SCARY” proudly proclaim their spot in the elementary school library where I work. The signs display images of cuddly monsters, creaky houses, wailing ghosts, a pointed witch’s hat, and a mangy cat with its neck twisted at an unhealthy angle.
If something inside of you kindled at the mention of any of those, you have already answered that perennial favorite, “Why do you love horror?” On its most primal level, the answer is simple and ever the same: it speaks to you.
Our experiences may provide different shades to our reasoning, but we all operate from that one primary color. We see it, and it sends sparks through the cobwebbed corners of our brains.
This was my experience from the days of toddlerhood, when it took nothing more than a pack of bats flying across a sated moon to set my blood tingling. Since then, I have acknowledged and nurtured this love with very few reservations. I like what I like, just like everyone else.
And though my own history might prove to be an item of passing interest, my primary interest these days is seeing what I can do to acknowledge and nurture this same curiosity in the hearts of the kids I serve.
It’s my contention that, at some point in time, horror draws in almost everyone. Even if only for the most fleeting of seasons or moments. At each end of the horror spectrum are what I call the “lifers” and the “toe dippers.” The terms are self-explanatory. I reside very comfortably in the “lifer” neighborhood. Horror is never far from my mind, and it always feels like home.
On the other end are the “toe dippers.” These folks are the social drinkers, the ones who only imbibe when they trade a ghost story during a sleepover or brave a Halloween haunt arm-in-arm with a friend. Their interest in the scene lasts as long as it remains a point of conversation. But the interest is still there, and in my mind it should be satiated just as much as the ravenous hunger of the “lifer.”
It is from this same spectrum that my students come to me seeking knowledge. I treat every question, request, and opportunity for reader’s advisory with the gravity that I believe it deserves. And while every section of my library receives as much care as the next, the scary section holds an obvious place in my heart.
This was the first area of the library that I “cross-pollinated.” Gone were the needless distinctions between fiction and nonfiction and the random segregation of formats. Here now was a one-stop shop that not only had picture books, chapter books, graphic novels, and story collections all rubbing shoulders, but one where the books on cryptids, the paranormal, and any other tangentially spooky subject previously relegated to Dewey Decimal Land were invited to share space with the strange bedfellows they deserved to be with.
It was the kind of section I always dreamed of having as a kid. One of my first orders of business my first year as librarian was to make sure the kids at my school would get it.
If we as librarians create a section like this in our spaces, we help legitimatize the genre to our patrons. We assure them that it is worthy of our time and attention just as much as an interest in sports or animals.
Granted, a “lifer” like me won’t bat an eye when a student comes seeking a book with “jump scares” in it—ah, youth—or wondering if I have a title that details real-life murders. This will be a challenge for those librarians closer to the “toe dipper” side, or those who fall off that side of the spectrum completely.
While conversations about age- and school-appropriateness are a whole ‘nother kettle of fish, we must refrain from wrinkling our noses, shaking our heads, or giving any other social cue that implies our patrons are wrong for liking these kinds of things. Books are, after all, perhaps the safest outlet through which people can explore these topics, a fact sadly lost on too many politicians both now and before.
Make them feel seen, make them feel safe. Better yet, have conversations with them.
“Mr. Cruz, what’s the scariest book you have?”
“Well, the things you and I think are scary can be very different. Why don’t you tell me what kind of scary stuff you enjoy, and I’ll see if we have something close to that.”
“Mr. Cruz, do you have any books with true crimes in them? Murders?”
“Well, I have a lot of books about haunted spots and spooky places, and people say they got that way because of the crimes that happened there. Would you like to see some of those?”
“Mr. Cruz, do you have any books about Backrooms or [INSERT CULTURAL ZEITGEIST HERE]?”
“I don’t think anyone’s written a book about that yet! But I’ll keep checking and add it to my shopping list if I find it.”
Specific questions like these may come from those who are more “lifer” than “toe-dipper,” but send one kid to the horror section and watch the feeding frenzy that grows from there. Regardless of the depth of their passion or interest, everyone wants a little thrill. A shock that they can be in control of. Like with humor, a chance to feel something outside the dreary sameness of simply being. In a word, an experience.
The landscape of school-age terrors is as rich and vibrant as it’s ever been. Now is the perfect time to start cultivating those macabre leanings in our youngest readers and provide a safe ride for those who just want to take the rollercoaster around once. As lovers and champions of the genre, it is in our vested interest to bring up these kids in a world where horror is accepted. Where they are accepted.
After all, I believe the children of the night are our future.
