the rabbit who haunted my young dreams

I had a brief period in my childhood where I enjoyed being scared. This only applied to suspenseful types of scaring- nothing involving actual heights or physical danger, since even as a kid, my nervous-mother-anxiety was already in gear. So, no roller coasters or physical risk-taking for me, but I liked to be spooked by books and movies. For some reason, no one seemed to care when I took to reading my father's Stephen King novels in 7th grade, even though I did develop a quiet fear of clowns for a while... but going back even further in my childhood was an obsession with a particular furry and fanged pal- Bunnicula...

Over at 5 Minutes for Books, we're celebrating the Children's Classics this month by revisiting a childhood favorite of our own. When I think back on the books that I can actually remember from my incredibly book-heavy childhood, the very first story of this collection, Bunnicula, A Rabbit-Tale of Mystery immediately comes to mind. When I went looking for it last week at the library, I was disappointed to see that the branch's copies were all checked out, but also pleased to think of some local child curling up with this hilarious and still intriguing little book. Instead of the original book, we found an audio recording of the first three books, which I clearly remember reading as well, including Howliday Inn and The Celery Stalks at Midnight. We've listened to the first book so far, and I just adore the high-falutin' accent that is given to Harold, the intelligent canine narrator by the reader, Victor Garber. All the silly humor of this story came right back to me, and I could almost feel the memory of the Scholastic paperback in my hand from years ago. I remember this being one of those books that I read again and again, never tiring of the story and its unfolding mystery.

JAM read Bunnicula last year or so, but he has recently reignited his own interest by checking out several of the Tales from the House of Bunnicula series that came later. I want to take a moment to publicly acknowledge the joy that James and Deborah Howe created all those years ago- a joy that reaches across the years to make a connection between my old elementary-school-aged self and that of my own book loving 9 year old. Well done!


Enjoying the walk down this literary memory lane,