The low, low woods

Written by the much-admired Machado, this collects the first six issues of the second series published by DC's Hill House imprint. Spunky Latina El and levelheaded, dark-skinned Octavia live in an eastern Pennsylvania coal town where strange creatures and occurrences have been popping up for as long as the two teenagers can remember. After they wake up in a theater with muddy shoes and no memories of the movie, they suspect it has something to do with their town's history, and what begins as a monster story slowly evolves into a horrifying cover-up of men's crimes against women in their town. Greek mythology references appear in the backstory (a witch named Circe, magical water from the river Lethe), adding to the tale's intricacy, and Dani's illustrations feel raw and unrefined, with mostly drab colors, evoking a haunting quality. This book starts out as two girls trying to get to the bottom of a mystery, but it ends up a thought-provoking, eerie, and well-timed look at how misogyny and the desire to hide it can be damaging to everyone--and how those affected have the right to choose how to handle their memories. Readers who enjoy the more psychological aspects of horror will want to read this over and over again.

Machado (In the Dream House) makes her graphic novel debut with a gloriously unnerving tale of monsters, sinkholes, witches, and yearning teenage dreams. Shudder-to-Think is a town where men died "hacking up pieces of lung or crushed beneath ten tons of rock" in the mines and women lost their memories, or just went missing, regularly. That's what happened to El and Vee, two best friends who at some point in the 1990s wake up in a movie theater with no recollection of the film and decide to investigate the mystery behind that gap in time and the strange happenings around the community. As they dig deeper, they realize Shudder-to-Think's cruelties and erasures--and the grotesque creatures in its woods--share a nefarious connection. As it happens, in this place where a fire has burned for years underground, humans can be the worst monsters. Within the horror plot lives a touching tale of friendship, choices, grief, and empowering rage, with a female-centered queer and diverse cast of characters. Machado also offers a rare look at magic as karma: "Magic is, among other things, a metaphor. It's a kind of sacrifice. What I do to others I do to myself," intones one of the mystical, ageless forest dwellers. The eerie, sketchy art by Dani suits the mood: her brooding figures skirt the edge of disappearance. This will surely call out to fans of Machado's searing prose, and it will also hit the spot for comics fans who like their horror heartfelt. (Sept.)