I’m in the middle of listening to On the Day I Died: Stories from the Grave by Candace Fleming. Mike is in a panic because he’s about to miss curfew…again. He’s in such a hurry that he narrowly misses a hitchhiker standing in the middle of the road. Always a gentleman, he drives the girl home only to discover that his passenger drowned many years ago. In a search to discover the truth, he comes upon a cemetery of teenagers. He also discovers the ghosts of the teenagers themselves–all ready to share the stories of how they met their tragic ends.
I have a love-hate relationship with scary stories. I love the adrenaline rush I get when reading them. I hate that they make me paranoid that specters could be lurking in dark corners. That being said, I was bracing myself to be spooked out by this book. I’m not sure if it’s the different narrators or the stories themselves, but I’m just not feeling very terrified…or on edge even. It’s almost as if the stories are too short. Just when you start really getting into it, it’s over. I think I like my scary with a whole lot of suspense.
If you’re looking for a book you can pick up, read for a little bit, then pick up again much later, give On the Day I Died a try. It’s pretty good for stop and start listening too; although the different voices of the narrators can be kind of disconcerting. I think I’ll finish it. Mostly because I have a sneaking suspicion that there’s some kind of twist at the end and I really want to find out what it is.