Morphing the Monster: The Monsterator by Keith Graves

MASTER EDGAR DREADBURY
FOUND HALLOWEEN A BORE.

THE WHOLE BUSINESS OF COSTUMES
WAS A MISERABLE CHORE.

Master Edgar has the spooky mansion, the scary tree outside his window, the jack o' lantern on his candle stand, and the Eddie Munster haircut already. He hardly needs any Halloweenification. But duty calls, and after Edgar rejects his old vampire, zombie, and clown costumes, he drags himself downtown to shop for something suitable. Suddenly he spots a store he'd never seen before, The Emporium. It certainly has the right atmosphere.

IT WAS DANK AND DARK AS A CELLAR.

"SERVICE!!" HE CALLED.

When no one appears, Edgar looks around on his own. But there are no costumes to be seen.

But then he does see something that looks promising. It's a musty, dusty contraption with an enticing name:THE MONSTERATOR! The phlegmatic Edgar guesses instantly what this machine is supposed to do.

"OH, WHY NOT?"

Edgar puts his dime in the slot, steps inside, and ....

As electric sparks crackle through his body, his hair stands on end and Edgar quivers, shivers, and...

EDGAR WAS MONSTERATED

FROM HIS KNEES TO HIS NOSE

AND MONSTERATED SOME MORE; FROM HIS TEETH TO HIS TOES.

And it's GREAT! Edgar has horns. He's hairy and scary, with dragon scales and tail. He's gorgeously gruesome and he scares the heck out of everyone. It's the best Halloween ever.

But when Edgar is done chasing yowling black cats, squeamish squirrels, and terrified trick-or-treating tots, he returns for his de-Monsteration! But... The Emporium, Monsterator and all, has vanished.

Has Edgar learned his lesson? Has he seen the folly of trying to fool Mother Nature? Is he filled with regret? Is there some wise wizard troll or hairy fairy ready to reverse his monstrous transformation?

Uh, NO. And Edgar likes it that way, in Keith Graves' duly droll The Monsterator (Roaring Brook Press, 2014). As illustrator, the appropriately surnamed Graves offers all the trappings and tropes of the monster mansion, done up in suitably somber and murky tones, and as author his quaint and curious quatrains summon up the spirit of that other Edgar (Poe), while providing some delightfully funny rhymes.

But... THERE'S MORE! At the back of the book Graves provides readers with their own chance to monsterate Edgar with a stack of quarter-page flip pages so that kids can re-form Edgar from head to toe with a total of 625 new monsterated versions of our hero. This book is a total hoot--one kids will love to share as they combine and re-combine the possibilities. The book will wear out before the kids do, making Graves' The Monsterator a sure-fire hit for scary season reading.

Handy Helper: Henry's Hand by Ross McDonald

SOME OF US START OUT WHOLE AND STAY THAT WAY.

HENRY WAS A BITS AND PIECES KIND OF GUY.

ONCE ONE OF HIS EYES ROLLED UNDER THE COUCH AND WOULDN'T COME OUT UNTIL BEDTIME.

After forgetfully leaving his right leg behind in bed one day, Henry is forced to recite a little rhyme to take inventory every morning:

SOME ORGANS AND GLANDS,

TWO VERY NICE HANDS.....

Franken-clone Henry is reasonably attached to all his parts, but his favorite is his right hand.

His right hand is very.... handy!

Henry cultivates his inner couch potato persona while his hand does all the work.  Hand does the chores while Henry snores.  Hand fetches the mail, finger-walking down the walk and across the road to the mailbox. He ever functions  handily as a remote, changing channels for the recumbent Henry. Finally, feeling used, Hand revolts, and before he and Henry go mano a mano, he takes himself on the lam, letting his fingers walk him all the way to the big city.

In town, Hand is enjoying his freedom from manual labor, until he sees a truck bearing down on a hapless man strolling across the street. Quickly, Hand yanks the pedestrian out of the way and a passing reporter manages to snap a photo of the heroic deed.

HERO HAND! screams the headlines.

Soon Hand is a celebrity and he finds himself living in luxury with a staff handy to do everything for him.

HAND DIDN'T HAVE TO LIFT A FINGER!

But back in the country, Henry finds himself a bit short-handed at the chores. And he misses Hand, their intense one-handed marble matches, and his companion in bird-watching.

And meanwhile, in the city, time is hanging heavy on Hand's hand. He is bored and feeling empty-handed as he mopes on the window sill watching a bluebird trying to build her nest in the breeze from the passing trucks. Then his secretary brings in a letter, simply addressed to Hand, City.

Hand decides it time to make amends, to renew his attachment to Henry, in Ross MacDonald's latest, Henry's Hand (Abrams, 2013), and back home he finds Henry seriously in need of a helping hand. There's a bit of clever visual humor throughout in MacDonald's pleasingly art deco illustrations, ending in tidy little surprise ending that pulls the story's, er, loose pieces together as Henry and his missing part go off to visit the bluebird hand-in-hand. "All the parts are in place, as it were, and MacDonald sets them in motion in a mock melodramatic plot that wraps up with a reunion worthy of applause—with both hands," says Publishes Weekly.

Drop-Dead Romance: Zombie In Love: by Kelly DiPucchio

MORTIMER WAS LONELY.

CUPID'S BALL WAS JUST A WEEK AWAY, AND HE DIDN'T HAVE A SWEETHEART.

But Mortimer the Zombie is nobody's sweetheart now.

Not for lack of trying, mind you. Mortimer just can't seem to get the hang of romancing the lasses. He tries a nice red heart--freshly-extracted and still barely beating--but the girls just run away screaming. He tucks his favorite pet worms into the coffin-shaped box of chocolates he presents to one charming chick, but she flees the page in fear and trembling. His gift to the cute waitress at the diner--a diamond ring (still on its former owner's finger)--goes over like a lead-lined casket. His want ad in the lovelorn column of the classifieds--"TALL, DEAD, AND HANDSOME"--inexplicably goes without a reply.

But Mortimer is a swain not easily dissuaded. Dateless but undaunted, he decides to go stag to the ball. He heads off to shop for a new suit--at the nearby undertaker's parlor--and sets off for Cupid's Ball, full of unrequited desire and high hopes.

The joint is jumping, with cavorting couples crowding the dance floor. Mortimer takes up a hopeful stance near the refreshment table, hoping to spot a similarly stag damsel who's looking for a dance partner, but his best greenish smiles and wormy roses seem to discourage snacking and sends the lovelies loping for the nearest ladies' lounge. Soon nobody seems to be in the mood for punch and cookies.

The crowd thins, the band goes into their "goodnight, ladies" repertoire, the staff begins to sweep up, and it looks like Cupid's Ball is going to be a bust for poor lonely Mort.

But then a solitary girl straggles up to the punch bowl and gives Mortimer a hopeful smile--a gorgeously green smile. Never mind that she spills the punch, falls flat on her face, and breaks off a leg in the process! Mildew Mildred is obviously Mortimer's true love, and after they dance the night away (once she reattaches her foot), they go out for a romantic walk through the graveyard, (detached) hand in (detached) hand, and the two soul mates drive off in their very own limo:

HIS AND HEARSE!

In the perfect antidote to hearts and flowers fiction, Kelly Di Pucchio's drop-dead funny Zombie in Love (Atheneum, 2011) takes the zombie lit craze to a whole new level. Filled with Scott Campbell's wry sight gags and dreary palette which gives black humor a new lease on life, this spoof on the lonely-guy-meets-girl love story will evince a gaggle of gross-out giggles, punctuated with "eeeuuuwwws" and "yucks," from kids in the primary grades who find the whole love thing a bit "grossening" anyway. A great little storytime treat with some heart-y har-hars for the pre-Valentine season.

Ms. Jenkins Is Missing: Substitute Creacher by Chris Gall

ON A WINDY DAY IN LATE OCTOBER, MS. JENKINS' CLASS ARRIVED TO FIND A SURPRISE AT SCHOOL.

"SUBSTITUTE TEACHER TODAY!!" ANNOUNCED PEYTON.

The class is jubilant. The worst-behaved kids in class prep their provisions for the unfortunate sub. Paper airplanes are prepared; soppy snacks are pulled out of backpacks; and a box of tacks for the unfortunate teacher's seat is readied. Even the well-behaved students sit back and get ready to watch the show. And then....

"GOOD MORNING TO YOU! MY NAME IS MR. CREACHER.
MS. JENKINS HAS ASKED ME TO STEP IN AS TEACHER.

SHE CLAIMS THIS CLASS HAS GROWN OUT OF HAND."

Behind sweet Ms. Jenkins' desk is a creature of a teacher all right--green and scaly, with one giant cyclopsian eye in the center of his so-called face and a tentacled body stuffed into a sensible brown suit. And lest little Luke should plan to persist in his tack caper, Mr. Creacher's ugly head does a 180 to show off the array of bulging eyeballs in its backside.

This petrifying pedagogue wastes no time in launching into his own string of cautionary tales of misbehaving kids who thought they could game the system. There was Sarah, for example, whose sloppy desk grew so overstuffed that the subsequent explosion blew her away. Undeterred by Mr. Creacher's tales. though, Gavin and Amanda continue passing notes and pulling pranks right under his eye, so Creacher begins his grimmest story yet:

"AT LAST THERE WAS CHRIS, A MISCHIEVOUS SORT.
WITH A FONDNESS FOR THIEVING, I'M AFRAID TO REPORT.

BUT THEN HE STOLE CANDY FROM A MAGICAL GNOME.
NOW THE TRICK WAS ON CHRIS. HE COULD NEVER GO HOME."

"WHY?" WHISPERED PEYTON.

"'TILL HE REPAID HIS DEBT A CREACHER HE WOULD BE.
AND BY NOW YOU SHOULD NOTE, THAT MONSTER IS ME."

Not since Miss Viola Swamp reported for sub duty in Harry Allard's and James Marshall's classic, Miss Nelson Is Missing!, has a good class gone bad got its attitude adjusted with so many laughs along the way as in Chris Gall's comic tale for the upcoming scary season, Substitute Creacher (Little Brown, 2011).

In clever rhyming text and appropriately comic illustrations, this bunch of elementary miscreants get the substitute teacher they deserve with plenty of fun along the way. In the words of Booklist's critic, who gave the book a hard-to-earn starred review, this one is "a delicious little shocker of a picture book that ought to whip... crowd[s] of youngsters into a shrieking, laughing frenzy."

Odd Couple: Boris and Bella by Carolyn Crimi and Gus Grimly

Bella LeGrossi was the messiest monster in Booville. None of the other monsters could stand Bella's mess, so Bella lived by herself.

Boris Kleenitoff was the tidiest monster in Booville. He vacuumed his vampires, dusted his spiderwebs, and polished his pythons daily. No one could stand Boris's persnickety ways, so Bella lived alone.

Boris and Bella can't seem to compromise on their habitual housekeeping conflict, but underneath their differences, there is a suggestion of attraction between the two. Still, Boris is not invited to Bella's holiday barbooque, and Boris sends Valentine's Day chocolate gargoyles to every monster but Bella.

But when the battling twosome compete to hold the biggest monster mash on Halloween, both are spurned by their spooky friends, Bella because her cauldrons are too crusty and Boris because his bewitched brooms never stop sweeping up his place. Instead their nasty neighbors choose to attend Harry Beastie's bash, because, as they put it, "His dust bunnies don't bite" and "He doesn't worry about claw marks scuffing the the floor."

Enraged, Bella and Boris decide to attend only to berate Beastie for daring to derail their party plans. At Harry Beasties' bash, however, the two party poopers can only hold out until the beat of the WolfMan Band gets their toes to tapping. Finally, the two relent:

Bella sighed. She loved to dance.

Boris looked at the floor. He hadn't danced in SO long!

Bella looked at Boris shyly. "Maybe we should show them how it's done," she said.

A truce follows for the terrible two. Moderating their housekeeping styles, the two remain friends and the following year they throw the "biggest bash Booville had ever seen... together."

Carolyn Crimi's Boris and Bella is full of puns, alliterations, and rhymes that fill the text with chuckles and grins. (The monster dine at a boo-ffet, Cy Clops bebops and the Bogeyman boogies, for example.) Gus Grimley's sophisticated and evocative artistic style is just right for this tongue-in-cheek tale of a couple of creeps who bury the hatchet. Pair this tried-and-true tale with Lisa Wheeler's brand-new Boogie Knights, (Richard Jackson Books (Atheneum Hardcover)), reviewed in my post here, for happy Halloween howls of laughter.