Every year when I enter a store and see that first inkling of the holidays, whether it be a single tree, a splotch of red, or a display that houses snowman ornaments, a sense of dread settles over me like a peppermint-flavored miasma. It’s that time of year…

Men are a menace. To everyone — women, children, and other men. The worst ones are entitled men. Men who think they are owed something. They think they are owed something simply for being a man. Because a woman dates them, they are entitled to her body, her time…

For what I’m sure are racist reasons, the narrative surrounding the Civil War has been moving toward a retelling in which the Confederacy was a group of well-meaning people trying to fight for their land and states rights. When I was a kid, school taught us that narrative…

(Note: I wrote this a long time ago. I didn’t want to delay this one, but in light of the recent allegations against Blizzard, the timing on this one is not great. I want to say the following as someone who has played every Diablo, and was a Vanilla…

It’s happened. I read a Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, or Fear Street book once a week. I make my notes on each page and I flag any passages that I find particularly quote-worthy. I finally sit down at my computer and start writing a review. …

To no one’s surprise, I don’t do beaches. It’s not the water — I love water, as well as the concept of water. It is a necessary part of living, so I like water in that sense. And a peaceful wave crashing on sand in the middle of the…

I love Halloween. It’s my favorite holiday. It’s the one time of year when everyone lives the way I live all year around. It’s the only time I buy decorations for my home (and those decorations are not seasonal, as far as I’m concerned). I even love those Halloween…

The original Fear Street novels were too tame for my sixth-grade self. I craved more blood, more mayhem, more murder. Something shocking. Something that pushes what can be done in YA fiction. Something with more petticoats. I preferred the spin-off series Fear Street Sagas to the original Fear Street…

Being the first in a series is difficult, just like being the new kid in a school. There’s a need to set a precedent, whether it be a cool exterior to protect yourself from peer ridicule or a tone for subsequent books. I have never been the new kid…

What the hell is homecoming? Who is coming home? Is there a home involved at all? If yes, which home? I went to an American high school. Did we even have homecoming dances? To be fair, the only dance I ever went to was my senior prom, which could…

I was apprehensive about doing Fear Street. I have fond memories of the series, and it was included in my attempt to buy back my childhood — scouring thrift stores for books. Long before I decided to write this essay series (“Rereading My Childhood” — in case you forgot)…