Nightmares!

Review by New York Times Review

MULTITALENT IS A FUNNY THING - possessing it and beholding it. Often, the multitalented are cautious, aware that special judgment awaits, cocked and spring-loaded in a way it wouldn't be if they had stuck to their original skill. We are more inclined to buy your banjo album or artisanal fig bars if you're a movie star, but also more inclined to zero in on their flaws: too much banjo. If the multi happens to be one of those people who push their projects on us like a corn gavage down a duck's throat - eat this, buy this, love this, don't you love this? - our suspicions only deepen. Jason Segel is no doubt your favorite kind of multitalented person. He acts, writes, sings and navigates varied entertainments with an unassuming touch. He's amiable. He's large. He gives the impression of "Hey, I'm just trying out some stuff because it makes me happy, and maybe it'll make you happy too!" Also noteworthy is Segel's affection for delighting children. He was the voice of the villain in "Despicable Me" and took on the heroic task of reviving the Muppets franchise. In his first middle-grade novel, "Nightmares!," written with Kirsten Miller and read by Segel for the audiobook, he aims to take kids on a trip that will make their skin crawl. Charlie Laird lives in a world of fear. His mom died three years earlier, when he was 8, and his ache for her surges throughout the story. He describes his "shriveled" heart and the moments pierced by missing her. Her passing is rendered in flashbacks that reveal the depth of his loss but are handled in language that feels right for a young reader. Charlie has a new stepmother, Charlotte, who he suspects is a witch - a vegetarian, herbalist witch who wants to steal his dad; his little brother, Jack; and most painfully of all, his memories of his mother. His anger at Jack for loving Charlotte is the best depiction of his enduring grief. Charlie works hard not to face his sadness. And this is where the trouble starts. In Segels reading, we get villain, snake, exhausted dad and wisecracking stepmom. Everything in Charlie's life begins to slant toward the ominous. Previously benign things now threaten him. When your mom dies, a pot of soup stirred by your stepmother can easily morph into a belching caldron reeking of "dog farts." The sense that he's stuck in one place while his family has moved on enrages him. Charlotte's kale-blended pancakes repel him. Her purple, vine-choked mansion embarrasses him. Her store, an herbarium filled with seedpods, engulfs him in suspicion. And the toadstool on top is that her relentless patience with Charlie is his biggest irritation of all. Speaking of mushrooms, the language shines most when describing the fetid muck of the natural world: dead rats wrapped in spider webs, a tangle of creeping thyme, carrion beetles. When his "darkness" starts to overwhelm him, a fraught reality sets in, toggling back and forth between his waking life and dream life. Things that torture him during the day visit his sleep, and vice versa. Well drawn is the depiction of the period before sleep as the most anxious time, as unsettling as the ensuing nightmare. The book explores the link between this idea and how our fear of experiencing painful feelings is often worse than the feelings themselves. In the tradition of buddy narratives like "The Goonies," Charlie and three plucky friends are sent through the netherworld to triumph over individual nightmares. The message here is a good one: Face your fears before they control you. The most memorable character is Paige, whose hair smells like strawberries, and who carries with her a panic that she will end up like her own mother, a woman who got "so sad that she had to stay in a hospital." The empathic relationship between Charlie and Paige is rich, and I hope will expand over the course of the next two planned installments of "Nightmares!" In Segel's reading, we get many versions of him - bellowing villain, hissing snakes, exhausted dad and wisecracking stepmom. He is best at portraying the kids, morose Charlie in particular. Segel's performance throughout is more navy-blue-to-black comedy than it is scary, with an aristocratic gorgon blaming "cable television" for kids' nightmares and the witch calling Jack a "dork." A collection of fruit-throwing, nose-picking goblins and a flesh-eating cat are nefariously witty, but not terrifying. The presiding witch in the netherworld is more imperious than frightening - presumably by design, because of revelations about her that arrive later. I wished some of the frights could have been amped up in these passages - more creep-outs, less action - but I realize that restraint means sensitive listeners won't be scared off from continuing. Adventure narratives risk that grizzly-bear-in-a-hammock sag toward the middle. Though the action-packed center of "Nightmares!" probably won't be tedious for middle graders, I did listen through a few confusing pivots of plot, and piling s-on of incidents heading to the finish. Fantastical, multiworld narratives are tough, even for the multitalented. But Segel exudes an exuberant joy in the telling and an absence of cynicism that suits a writer of middle-grade fiction. Childhood is frightening even if your mother doesn't die and you don't move into a purple mansion. Kids need to hear someone explain the darkness and the light. Charlie Laird, who learns that fear will eat you alive if you feed it, makes an impression, and I think readers will want to accompany him again, especially if he sticks to his strong suits: dead rats, mushroom-sprouting couches and a firm grasp on just how terrifying our own feelings can be. RENEE DALE writes for publications including GQ, Glamour and Self.

Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 9, 2014]

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Review by Booklist Review

When Charlie Laird's mom died, he was, of course, devastated, and he's devastated all over again when his dad marries Charlotte, the kooky herbalist with unruly red hair. After they all move to Charlotte's family home a spooky, purple mansion Charlie begins having terrible nightmares starring a cauldron-stirring, red-haired witch, and he starts believing that his stepmom is not who she seems. While investigating her workroom in the tower of the house, he stumbles through a portal into the Netherworld, a creepy, fractured version of his own town that's populated with elements from kids' nightmares, including bunnies with toothy jaws for faces and a fedora-wearing gorgon. There he discovers who's really behind his bad dreams as well as some secrets about not only Charlotte but also his own mother. Segel (of The Muppets movie) and Miller build an entertaining, cartoony world full of scary (but not too scary) monsters, silly jokes, plucky kid heroes, and a cinematic plot that trundles onward to a satisfying conclusion, with a promise of adventures to come. Final illustrations not seen.--Hunter, Sarah Copyright 2014 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Coraline meets Monsters, Inc. in this delightfully entertaining offering from actor Segel and co-author Miller (How to Lead a Life of Crime), first in a trilogy. Twelve-year-old Charlie Laird believes his new stepmother is a witch, in part due to his horrible nightmares about being held captive by witches. Charlie soon learns that the witches' Netherworld is real, and his fear has opened a portal allowing creatures to travel between realms. When Charlie ventures into the Netherworld to rescue his kidnapped younger brother, he becomes embroiled in an epic struggle to prevent the terrifying President Fear from turning the mortal world into a place of eternal nightmares. In a story that's both whimsical and disturbing, Charlie works to rescue his friends, help them overcome their fears, and find his courage. Segel and Miller make for a solid team; their Netherworld is populated by everything from talking bugs to killer clowns, and the underlying message-sometimes you have to admit to and confront your fears-is important. Kwasny's illustrations provide a fitting mixture of realism and absurdity. Ages 8-12. Agent: Erin Malone, William Morris Endeavor and Abrams Entertainment. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-6-Eleven-year-old Charlie Laird is absolutely convinced that his stepmother Charlotte is a witch. She dresses funny, serves seriously strange food (kale pancakes), and runs a store called Hazel's Herbarium. Charlie's dad, little brother, and friends all like Charlotte and think Charlie's still grieving for his mom. He's also suffering from terrible nightmares, and living in Charlotte's crazy purple mansion isn't helping. The evil witch who stars in those nightmares threatens to follow the protagonist into the real world and kidnap his brother. Instead, he is tricked into the Nightmare World, peopled with monsters and madness: gorgons, goblins, crazy clowns, scary bunnies, tests filled with gibberish, and the monomaniacal President Fear (who also inhabits the real world as the truly terrifying Principal Stearns). But all is not what it seems, and some of the scariest creatures turn out to be sympathetic-or even allies. There are lessons to be learned about facing fears and uncovering the real enemy in this tale. Pals Alfie, Rocco, and Paige are interesting and fairly three-dimensional; most of the adults (with the exceptions of Fear/Stearns and Charlotte) are merely background. The fear is as much psychological as anything, and there's humor and a fairly high ick-factor, but relatively little violence. A good choice for elementary-aged scare-seekers.- Mara Alpert, Los Angeles Public Library (c) Copyright 2014. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

Charlie Laird's nightmares become a reality when he discovers a portal to the Netherworld.Charlie's widowed father has recently remarried, and Charlie hates it. He hates his stepmom. He hates that his young brother, Jack, is taken in by her. But most of all he hates the new house his family has moved into, as well as the never-ending stream of nightmares he experiences there every night. An evil witch haunts Charlie's sleep, threatening to eat him and his brother up. When the witch appears in the real world and snatches Jack away, Charlie follows her into the Netherworld and, with the aid of a gorgon and a few slumbering friends, sets out to save not just his brother, but the Land of Nightmares itself. As a first book in a proposed trilogy, there's a lot of promise here. The authors set up the supernatural rules of this world with ease, not getting bogged down with exceptions or contradictions. The book succeeds at scaring and amusing in equal measure, with the Nightmares as varied as they are humorous. At the heart of the endeavor is a story of personal growth, one that fits nicely with the spooky doings surrounding it. Best of all, this is a contained story. There's no cliffhanger, no shoddy lingering threats. Upon completion, readers could set it down and never return to the Netherworld, but this world is so enjoyable and interesting, it's hard to not anticipate future trips.Sweet, charming and imaginative: a promising launch. (Fantasy. 8-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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It was five minutes past midnight, and a boy was gazing down at Cypress Creek from the window of an old mansion on the town's highest hill. It was an odd-looking building. The front porch was overrun by a jungle of potted plants. Thick green vines crept up columns, and lady ferns and blood flowers fought for every patch of moonlight. An octagonal tower sprouted straight from the house's roof, and the entire structure was painted a dreadful shade of purple. Anyone who saw it might assume that the mansion's occupants were a bit on the strange side--and yet the boy at the window appeared perfectly normal. He had sandy blond hair and no visible tattoos, scars, or hideous warts. But judging by the miserable expression on his face, something was terribly wrong. His name was Charlie Laird, and he'd lived in Cypress Creek all twelve years of his life. He and his little brother, Jack, had grown up in a house just down the street. In fact, Charlie could see the old place from his new bedroom window. A different family of four owned it now. Every night, Charlie watched the lights in his former home go out and imagined the kids snuggled up nice and safe, tucked into bed by their mother and father. He would have given almost anything to trade places with them. It had been three months since he'd moved to the purple mansion on DeChant Hill with his brother and father. And it had been three months since Charlie Laird had gotten a good night's sleep. Charlie took a step back from the window and saw his reflection in the glass. His skin was the color of curdled milk, and dark bags sagged beneath his red-rimmed eyes. He sighed at the sight and turned around to start his night's work. Thirty-eight heavy boxes sat in the center of the room. They were filled with video games and comic books and Little League trophies. Charlie had unpacked nothing more than a few changes of clothes. The rest of his belongings were still stowed away in their cardboard boxes. And every night, before he lay down in his bed, he would move them. Nineteen boxes were used to block the door to the hall. The other nineteen were pushed against the bathroom door, though that often proved quite inconvenient. It would have seemed ridiculous to anyone else. Even Charlie knew the barricades couldn't stop his bad dreams. But the witch who'd been visiting him every night for three months wasn't like other nightmares he'd had. Most dreams faded, but he couldn't forget her. She felt just as real as the nose on his face. So when the witch swore that one night soon she'd come drag him away, Charlie figured he should take her threats seriously. He just hoped all the boxes could keep her out of his room. She'd already gotten as far as the hallway. The first time he'd heard someone sneaking through the house, Charlie had just woken up from a nightmare. The sun's rays were peeking over the mountains, but the mansion was still and quiet. Suddenly the silence had been broken by the creak of rusty door hinges opening. Then the floorboards groaned and there were thuds on the stairs. The footsteps were heavy enough to be an adult's. But when Charlie worked up the nerve to investigate, he found his father and stepmother still asleep in their bed. A few nights later, he heard the same thing again. Creak. Groan. Thud. His father said that old houses make noises. His brother thought the place might be haunted. But Charlie knew there was no such thing as ghosts. He'd been searching for almost three years, and if they'd existed he would have seen one by now. No, Charlie Laird had far bigger problems than ghosts. The thirty-eight boxes were waiting. Charlie stared at the daunting task in front of him and wondered where he'd find the energy to complete it. His nightmares had gotten worse--and every night he fought a losing battle against sleep. Now his eyelids were drooping and he couldn't stop yawning. As usual, he'd stood by the window until midnight, waiting for his father and stepmother to go to bed. He didn't want them to hear him sliding the boxes across the floorboards or grunting as he stacked them against the doors. But staying up was growing harder and harder. He'd tried taping his eyes open, but Scotch tape was too weak and duct tape pulled out his eyebrows. Pacing just made him dizzy. And while he'd heard that a full bladder could keep sleep at bay, every time he tried chugging water at bedtime, he ended up frantically shoving nineteen boxes away from the bathroom door. So a few weeks earlier, when all else had failed, Charlie had taken his first trip to the kitchen for a cup of cold, leftover coffee. It always made him gag, and sometimes he had to hold his nose just to get it all down--but the coffee was the only thing that kept him awake. Charlie tiptoed to his bedroom door, opened it slowly so the hinges wouldn't squeal, and took a peek outside. He was relieved to see that the hallway was dark. He preferred it that way. The walls were lined with old paintings that were far creepier when the lights were on. He listened closely for signs of movement and then sock-skated awkwardly toward the stairs. Past his brother's room. And his father and stepmother's. He was almost outside the last door on the hall when he heard it--a high-pitched laugh that nearly sent him sprinting back to his bed. Behind the last door lay the stairs to the tower. And at the top of those stairs was a room known in the family as Charlotte's Lair. The door was open a crack, and Charlie heard the sound of a fat cat's paws padding down the wooden staircase. A pale golden light leaked out into the hall. His stepmother was still awake. Excerpted from Nightmares! by Jason Segel, Kirsten Miller All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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