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A review by jodiwilldare
Blackbriar by William Sleator
3.0
For nearly twenty-five years, the story of Blackbriar haunted me. When I was in sixth grade, Mrs. Mullins read it out loud to our reading class. Even in the fully-lit classroom surrounded by kids the story was scary as hell.
After sixth grade I didn’t give the book much thought. But whenever anyone asked me about scary books this is the one I’d conjure up. The problem was for years and years I had forgotten the title of the book and wasn’t sure if I ever knew the name of the author.
All I could remember was the creepy image of names carved on the back of a door. Each name had a date next to it, effectively making the entire house a giant tombstone. I remember that it had something to do with the Black Plague. But that’s it.
Occasionally, I’d ask someone if they’d ever read the black plague with the names on the door book when they were a kid. “You know the one with the tunnel and names, the NAMES. The names on the door!” Because repetition is the surest way to jog someone’s memory, right?
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After sixth grade I didn’t give the book much thought. But whenever anyone asked me about scary books this is the one I’d conjure up. The problem was for years and years I had forgotten the title of the book and wasn’t sure if I ever knew the name of the author.
All I could remember was the creepy image of names carved on the back of a door. Each name had a date next to it, effectively making the entire house a giant tombstone. I remember that it had something to do with the Black Plague. But that’s it.
Occasionally, I’d ask someone if they’d ever read the black plague with the names on the door book when they were a kid. “You know the one with the tunnel and names, the NAMES. The names on the door!” Because repetition is the surest way to jog someone’s memory, right?
Read More