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Children of Mandrake
All summer, it’s been raining every day except for Thursdays, and no one knows why.
In the town of Mandrake, Truman and Donna are the only kids, the only ones who care about the rain. For Donna’s thirteenth birthday, Aunt Ginny, the town hermit with perfect, undying hair, promises to make her famous pecan pie, but only if they can find the special cinnamon tree somewhere down the river that hides Mandrake from the outside world. What seems to be a simple errand turns into a race for their lives, as an evil force uses all of its power to stop Truman and Donna from solving the mystery behind the summer of rain.
In Jesse Stein’s debut novel, Children of Mandrake, we learn that no one is just one thing. We are all pieces, and even if your pieces don’t fit together like everyone else’s, they can still give you the power you need to change the weather.
In the town of Mandrake, Truman and Donna are the only kids, the only ones who care about the rain. For Donna’s thirteenth birthday, Aunt Ginny, the town hermit with perfect, undying hair, promises to make her famous pecan pie, but only if they can find the special cinnamon tree somewhere down the river that hides Mandrake from the outside world. What seems to be a simple errand turns into a race for their lives, as an evil force uses all of its power to stop Truman and Donna from solving the mystery behind the summer of rain.
In Jesse Stein’s debut novel, Children of Mandrake, we learn that no one is just one thing. We are all pieces, and even if your pieces don’t fit together like everyone else’s, they can still give you the power you need to change the weather.
349 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 21, 2024
2 people are currently reading
16 people want to read
About the author
Jesse Stein
1 book2 followersJesse Stein is a Chicago-based novelist, who finds the most joy in writing stories centring around oddly magical worlds, creatures, and the poor people that inhabit these spaces. He received an MFA in Creative Writing from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and is currently working as a painter and carpenter for a Fabrication Studio.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
May 23, 2024
What we are is pieces.
In the rainy city of Mandrake, Donna and Truman wonder about the significance of the never-stopping rain and why they are the only kids in the whole city. Close to Donna’s thirteenth birthday, the kids are sent on a mission: to collect cinnamon from a tree that grows beyond the river encircling the city, in order to taste Aunt Ginny’s delicious pecan pie. The quest will send them on a perilous and transformative journey.
Children of Mandrake by Jesse Stein was a nice little gem but also a challenge for me.
I loved the book from the very start: it is intriguing and makes you curious about how this adventure will unfold.
What is the significance of Donna’s dream? Who are the people sharing the spotlight with the POV of the kids? What is nestling in Truman’s hair? Why can’t Aunt Ginny step on her own porch?
Last but not least: I want Regina, the “gator pup flashlight,” too.
The author can be witty and funny with his observations and I simply love the atmosphere he created: it reminds me of the surreal world of Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman and the dark, twisted, and quirky style of Tim Burton.
So, why was this reading challenging for me? Because, truth be told, I almost didn’t finish this book after reaching 15% of it.
But doing so would have pained me. It would have pained me more than abandoning any other book I DNF combined. I also planned to publish this review on its publication day: always support an indie author!! But due to events in real life and my reluctance to pick it up when I had a chance, I had to change my plans.
Why did I almost abandon this book? The author’s style. Through no fault of his, I just couldn’t click with it. I recognized this at the beginning of the book, and I tried to push myself to finish it. I’m glad I did, because the style starts to improve after the initial chapters. I regretted it again when I had to go through another whole chapter of it and again towards the end.
I couldn’t put up with the way the descriptions were made: the overuse of “and” at the start of every very short sentence was giving me anxiety. I have to admit that I skimmed the last part of the book to escape that feeling that was creeping up again.
And maybe because of this, or because at some point I simply couldn’t sit down and calmly enjoying it, I didn’t enjoy the end as much as I thought I would, considering the strong start.
I understand that the probable reason behind this stylistic choice was the point of view of the two young protagonist, and to let the reader immerse in the moment, there and now. It just didn’t work for me.
But the aftermath of my challenge doesn’t affect the depth of this book: when I said that this book brings its character on a transformative journey, I meant it quite literally.
We find our characters initially stuck and in pain. Although the last condition doesn’t really disappear at the end of the book, they went on such a discovery journey that they now have the tools to manage their condition and fully enjoy life.
I honestly found this book, targeted to teens and YA, very profound and able to approach very big and important topics in everybody’s lives, regardless of age and upbringing.
Would I suggest this book to someone else? Absolutely. Only because I was not a fan of his particular style, which left me with a slight aftertaste, doesn’t mean that it’s not a good book I would gift to somebody I know will enjoy it.
I need to quit my bellyaching. That’s what she used to say to me. She’d say, “Truman, quit that bellyaching and finish your beans.” Or she’d say, “No son of mine slacks off on his chores. Now quit your bellyaching, Mr. St. Nectarine, and pick up that shovel.” I can remember that shovel clear as day because I just bashed my head into where it must have been hanging on the wall. I bashed it good because I didn’t know what shovel tasted like back then, but I know what it tastes like now.
“I’ll tell you what, Bub. That girl over there, she’s my garden, and I’m hers. We look out for each other because no one else can or will.”
A child should not carry all of that.
You don’t have to carry that, boy.
“I’ll carry what I have to.”
There’s a splotch of pink between Mabel’s shoulder blades. A splotch of pink with little blots of black, a smooth and unwrinkled patch hidden on her. I think about how no one probably sees this. How the world can only look up at her, at the claws and the eyes and the threat. I think about whatever made her, how they nestled in this soft place that she couldn’t even see. Someone would have to show it to her, point it out. I wonder if everyone has pieces like this that they could never see without help.
We ask too much of children. We do.
We ask them to save the world after we’ve ruined it.
Over and over and over.
***Thank you to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.***
More reviews at Inky Lighthouse.
June 29, 2024
Stein has crafted such an exciting world in this book. Truman and Donna are the only kids of Mandrake, a town surrounded by nature and eerie stories about the river and what lurks out in the woods and around the river. The duo is sent on an adventure to get a special cinnamon for a pie, and the adventures they encounter change their lives forever. Told in a first-person perspective from multiple characters, the story creates a well-rounded narrative full of mystery and fantasy.
Truman and Donna are two complex characters who have been through a lot in their lives but find family in one another. As they venture on the river, they meet a wild cast of characters, my personal favorite being Regina, who was given to Truman and is a small reptile who rests on his wrist. These characters teach them different aspects of life and growing up.
What I loved most about the book is summed up on this quote from the the character Bub when they are talking to Truman "You see yourself as one thing. As one body. That is a mistake. Really, what you are is a collection of small parts, small pieces. And these pieces didn't come from you; you didn't make them. They were given to you by the world, by the people you know, the people you love, the people you hate, the things you've smelled and tasted, the warmth you've seen and the cold you've felt, and all these things are the things that have made you who you are."
The novel is a story of found family, finding the strength and life within oneself, and having the courage in the face of danger and hard decisions. The book is whimsical, with talking swamp bears, gators, dreams that come true, and moving trees, but it also has this eerie undertone to it that keeps you engaged and makes the readers feel the importance of the situation and why the characters are taught to remain strong and help one another. The book reminded me a lot of Gravity Falls and Over the Garden Wall, with similar themes of bravery, friendship, and self-discovery while also having the fantastical elements of the forest and river.
I highly recommend this book. It was a wonderful read. It will pull on your heartstrings while also making you smile as you grow close to Truman and Donna as you accompany them on their adventure. The book is also filled with illustrations that help you see the world, and I really like the art style of them. Meng Samantha Shui, who is the illustrator, is very talented and it helped to make the book stand out and bring me into the world of Mandrake.
***Thank you to Jesse for a copy in exchange for a review***
Truman and Donna are two complex characters who have been through a lot in their lives but find family in one another. As they venture on the river, they meet a wild cast of characters, my personal favorite being Regina, who was given to Truman and is a small reptile who rests on his wrist. These characters teach them different aspects of life and growing up.
What I loved most about the book is summed up on this quote from the the character Bub when they are talking to Truman "You see yourself as one thing. As one body. That is a mistake. Really, what you are is a collection of small parts, small pieces. And these pieces didn't come from you; you didn't make them. They were given to you by the world, by the people you know, the people you love, the people you hate, the things you've smelled and tasted, the warmth you've seen and the cold you've felt, and all these things are the things that have made you who you are."
The novel is a story of found family, finding the strength and life within oneself, and having the courage in the face of danger and hard decisions. The book is whimsical, with talking swamp bears, gators, dreams that come true, and moving trees, but it also has this eerie undertone to it that keeps you engaged and makes the readers feel the importance of the situation and why the characters are taught to remain strong and help one another. The book reminded me a lot of Gravity Falls and Over the Garden Wall, with similar themes of bravery, friendship, and self-discovery while also having the fantastical elements of the forest and river.
I highly recommend this book. It was a wonderful read. It will pull on your heartstrings while also making you smile as you grow close to Truman and Donna as you accompany them on their adventure. The book is also filled with illustrations that help you see the world, and I really like the art style of them. Meng Samantha Shui, who is the illustrator, is very talented and it helped to make the book stand out and bring me into the world of Mandrake.
***Thank you to Jesse for a copy in exchange for a review***
March 24, 2025
Children of Mandrake is a mesmerizing and beautifully crafted story that takes readers on an unforgettable journey. With its rich storytelling, compelling characters, and immersive world-building, this book is a masterpiece that lingers in the mind long after the final page.
One of the most striking aspects of Children of Mandrake is its depth. The narrative is layered with emotion, adventure, and themes that resonate on a deeply human level. The characters are complex and well-developed, making their struggles and triumphs feel incredibly real. The author masterfully weaves together a tale that is both enchanting and thought-provoking, ensuring that readers remain captivated from beginning to end.
Adding to the novel’s brilliance is the breathtaking work of illustrator Meng Samantha Shui. Her illustrations bring the world of Children of Mandrake to life in an extraordinary way, enhancing the storytelling with stunning visuals. Each illustration is meticulously crafted, capturing the mood and magic of the story perfectly. Shui’s artistry not only complements the text but also elevates the entire reading experience, making it even more immersive and emotionally impactful.
Overall, Children of Mandrake is a must-read. It is a book that will appeal to lovers of beautifully written, imaginative stories and those who appreciate the power of visual storytelling. Both the author and Meng Samantha Shui have created something truly special, making this a book that deserves a spot on every reader’s shelf.
One of the most striking aspects of Children of Mandrake is its depth. The narrative is layered with emotion, adventure, and themes that resonate on a deeply human level. The characters are complex and well-developed, making their struggles and triumphs feel incredibly real. The author masterfully weaves together a tale that is both enchanting and thought-provoking, ensuring that readers remain captivated from beginning to end.
Adding to the novel’s brilliance is the breathtaking work of illustrator Meng Samantha Shui. Her illustrations bring the world of Children of Mandrake to life in an extraordinary way, enhancing the storytelling with stunning visuals. Each illustration is meticulously crafted, capturing the mood and magic of the story perfectly. Shui’s artistry not only complements the text but also elevates the entire reading experience, making it even more immersive and emotionally impactful.
Overall, Children of Mandrake is a must-read. It is a book that will appeal to lovers of beautifully written, imaginative stories and those who appreciate the power of visual storytelling. Both the author and Meng Samantha Shui have created something truly special, making this a book that deserves a spot on every reader’s shelf.
May 9, 2025
Jesse Stein’s Children of Mandrake is a lush, uncanny, and wildly imaginative journey into a town where folklore breathes through the rain and even dessert can send you on a hero’s quest. Gorgeously illustrated by Meng Samantha Shui, this Southern Gothic coming-of-age fantasy is steeped in metaphor, memory, and mud—a triumph of storytelling voice, world-building, and emotional resonance.
Told through the observant, anxious lens of 14-year-old Truman Lowell St. Nectarine, the story begins with the odd but cozy rhythms of life in the rain-soaked town of Mandrake, a place where rivers loop without purpose and legends creep into everyday speech. Truman is a loner, shaped by grief and quiet longing, and his only companion is the razor-sharp, conspiracy-prone Donna, who says things like, “Bagman’s been snatching up all the animals in Mandrake and making bags out of their skin. He’s saving the fish for last.” Their banter is often hilarious, but it’s also layered with a wistful loneliness. “No one talks to us because we’re the only kids in a town full of grown-ups,” Donna explains, “and kids and grown-ups don’t have anything to talk about.”
That loneliness—and the weight of unspoken grief—permeates Truman’s life. His mother, now deceased, “sleeps under the barn floorboards,” and his father is long gone. Truman’s journey begins not with a grand prophecy, but with pie—pecan pie, to be exact. When the mystical Aunt Ginny (Donna’s enigmatic, moss-covered mother) declares that she needs “the perfect cinnamon” for a “special special pecan pie,” the children are sent on a quest downriver. But what starts as a whimsical errand quickly becomes a shadowy voyage through myth, memory, and danger.
The pacing of Children of Mandrake drips slowly, like the perpetual rain soaking its pages—measured and contemplative. Yet it’s precisely this tempo that allows the reader to linger in the strange magic of Stein’s world. Mandrake’s voice-driven narration is its strongest gift. Stein blends the absurd with the profound: “What kind of man uses fish skin to make a bag?” Truman asks early on, just before stepping into a world where haunted rivers, living houses, and sentient taxidermied gator flashlights are all taken seriously.
Yes, a taxidermied flashlight. Regina, the glowing gator pup, becomes a symbolic and literal guide, providing eerie, conditional light only when most needed. “Regina shines when she needs to,” Aunt Ginny tells Truman. “She’ll show you what you can’t see, take you where you can’t go.” In this way, the story dances with metaphor—about grief, about seeing the truth behind what scares us, about letting go.
The prose is musical and strange, full of metaphor and Southern folklore. Stein’s world echoes with voices of the past and whispering trees, where “the rain announces itself on the roof like ahem ahem,” and houses “puff up” before storms. The setting is a character unto itself, and Shui’s illustrations only deepen the atmosphere, blending fog, shadow, and organic textures to mirror Stein’s prose.
For fans of Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book, Kate DiCamillo’s The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, or even Patrick Ness’s A Monster Calls, this book will feel familiar yet entirely original. It revels in emotional honesty and layered storytelling. Truman’s reluctant heroism is both humorous and heartbreaking. When asked by Aunt Ginny what his late mother would think of the man he’s becoming, Truman says bitterly, “She doesn’t think about nothing anymore.” That grief, that rawness, pulses beneath every surreal twist in the road.
Ultimately, Children of Mandrake is about what’s lost and what grows in its place. As Aunt Ginny tells Truman, “You’ve got grit, Truman St. Nectarine. That you’ve got, baby.” It’s a book about remembering, about looking directly at what scares you most—and deciding to go anyway. As Truman says, in a moment of aching resolve: “Just because you’re scared of something and dead doesn’t mean I need to be scared of it too.”
This is a story for middle-grade readers ready for complex themes, teens who appreciate strange, poetic narratives, and adults who love children’s literature that respects emotional depth. It’s ideal for fans of quirky, bittersweet tales about friendship, loss, magic, and growing up in the shadow of impossible things.
Told through the observant, anxious lens of 14-year-old Truman Lowell St. Nectarine, the story begins with the odd but cozy rhythms of life in the rain-soaked town of Mandrake, a place where rivers loop without purpose and legends creep into everyday speech. Truman is a loner, shaped by grief and quiet longing, and his only companion is the razor-sharp, conspiracy-prone Donna, who says things like, “Bagman’s been snatching up all the animals in Mandrake and making bags out of their skin. He’s saving the fish for last.” Their banter is often hilarious, but it’s also layered with a wistful loneliness. “No one talks to us because we’re the only kids in a town full of grown-ups,” Donna explains, “and kids and grown-ups don’t have anything to talk about.”
That loneliness—and the weight of unspoken grief—permeates Truman’s life. His mother, now deceased, “sleeps under the barn floorboards,” and his father is long gone. Truman’s journey begins not with a grand prophecy, but with pie—pecan pie, to be exact. When the mystical Aunt Ginny (Donna’s enigmatic, moss-covered mother) declares that she needs “the perfect cinnamon” for a “special special pecan pie,” the children are sent on a quest downriver. But what starts as a whimsical errand quickly becomes a shadowy voyage through myth, memory, and danger.
The pacing of Children of Mandrake drips slowly, like the perpetual rain soaking its pages—measured and contemplative. Yet it’s precisely this tempo that allows the reader to linger in the strange magic of Stein’s world. Mandrake’s voice-driven narration is its strongest gift. Stein blends the absurd with the profound: “What kind of man uses fish skin to make a bag?” Truman asks early on, just before stepping into a world where haunted rivers, living houses, and sentient taxidermied gator flashlights are all taken seriously.
Yes, a taxidermied flashlight. Regina, the glowing gator pup, becomes a symbolic and literal guide, providing eerie, conditional light only when most needed. “Regina shines when she needs to,” Aunt Ginny tells Truman. “She’ll show you what you can’t see, take you where you can’t go.” In this way, the story dances with metaphor—about grief, about seeing the truth behind what scares us, about letting go.
The prose is musical and strange, full of metaphor and Southern folklore. Stein’s world echoes with voices of the past and whispering trees, where “the rain announces itself on the roof like ahem ahem,” and houses “puff up” before storms. The setting is a character unto itself, and Shui’s illustrations only deepen the atmosphere, blending fog, shadow, and organic textures to mirror Stein’s prose.
For fans of Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book, Kate DiCamillo’s The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, or even Patrick Ness’s A Monster Calls, this book will feel familiar yet entirely original. It revels in emotional honesty and layered storytelling. Truman’s reluctant heroism is both humorous and heartbreaking. When asked by Aunt Ginny what his late mother would think of the man he’s becoming, Truman says bitterly, “She doesn’t think about nothing anymore.” That grief, that rawness, pulses beneath every surreal twist in the road.
Ultimately, Children of Mandrake is about what’s lost and what grows in its place. As Aunt Ginny tells Truman, “You’ve got grit, Truman St. Nectarine. That you’ve got, baby.” It’s a book about remembering, about looking directly at what scares you most—and deciding to go anyway. As Truman says, in a moment of aching resolve: “Just because you’re scared of something and dead doesn’t mean I need to be scared of it too.”
This is a story for middle-grade readers ready for complex themes, teens who appreciate strange, poetic narratives, and adults who love children’s literature that respects emotional depth. It’s ideal for fans of quirky, bittersweet tales about friendship, loss, magic, and growing up in the shadow of impossible things.
May 17, 2024
5 Stars
This story left me raw. Jesse Stein weaves a rich and whimsical story about grief, growing up, and change. I was not expecting such a deep and at times terrifying tale.
Children of Mandrake follows a young man named Truman, along with his friend Donna, on a journey along the river that surrounds their town, Mandrake. In Mandrake it rains every day, except on Thursdays, and things are never quite what they seem. For Donna's 13th birthday, the duo is sent into the wilds of the swamp and river to retrieve special cinnamon from a rare cinnamon tree. However, this seemingly simple task is anything but as Truman's and Donna's past is waiting for them in the watery and magical landscape.
I loved the writing in this book, but I don't think it's for everyone. If you are a fan of the bizarre wonderment in Orfeia and Alice in Wonderland, you will enjoy this.
I received an early e-edition of this book on #netgalley. Thank you to Atmosphere Press and Netgalley for this opportunity.
This story left me raw. Jesse Stein weaves a rich and whimsical story about grief, growing up, and change. I was not expecting such a deep and at times terrifying tale.
Children of Mandrake follows a young man named Truman, along with his friend Donna, on a journey along the river that surrounds their town, Mandrake. In Mandrake it rains every day, except on Thursdays, and things are never quite what they seem. For Donna's 13th birthday, the duo is sent into the wilds of the swamp and river to retrieve special cinnamon from a rare cinnamon tree. However, this seemingly simple task is anything but as Truman's and Donna's past is waiting for them in the watery and magical landscape.
I loved the writing in this book, but I don't think it's for everyone. If you are a fan of the bizarre wonderment in Orfeia and Alice in Wonderland, you will enjoy this.
I received an early e-edition of this book on #netgalley. Thank you to Atmosphere Press and Netgalley for this opportunity.
June 14, 2024
Huge thank you to the author, publisher and NetGalley for the opportunity of this ARC in exchange of an honest review.
When I started this book, I suspected it would be good. When I finished the first chapter, I was sure of it.
The protagonists of the story are two siblings, Donna and Tru, the only people in Mandrake who seem to care about the oddities that happen in town. Their life is about to change when they are sent on a quest to find a specific cinnamon for Donna's birthday pie.
Highly evocative, so real as to be concrete, this novel is far from being solely aimed at children. It talks of brotherhood, of mourning, of unsolved mysteries, of secrets hidden in blood. It talks about landscapes and a Nature that threatens humans and, from an ecological perspective, it can be an even more interesting read.
At times, it reminded me of McDowell's Blackwater saga, but for a younger audience.
The masterfully crafted illustrations are the icing on the cake
The one of Jesse Stein really is an intriguing debut. I didn't expect this book to resonate this much.
When I started this book, I suspected it would be good. When I finished the first chapter, I was sure of it.
The protagonists of the story are two siblings, Donna and Tru, the only people in Mandrake who seem to care about the oddities that happen in town. Their life is about to change when they are sent on a quest to find a specific cinnamon for Donna's birthday pie.
Highly evocative, so real as to be concrete, this novel is far from being solely aimed at children. It talks of brotherhood, of mourning, of unsolved mysteries, of secrets hidden in blood. It talks about landscapes and a Nature that threatens humans and, from an ecological perspective, it can be an even more interesting read.
At times, it reminded me of McDowell's Blackwater saga, but for a younger audience.
The masterfully crafted illustrations are the icing on the cake
The one of Jesse Stein really is an intriguing debut. I didn't expect this book to resonate this much.
December 20, 2025
I bought this book to read with my godson as a gift so we could maybe start a new tradition. Not gonna lie, there were parts that i liked but others that i felt i really struggled to get through like the repetition or some parts feeling jumpy and i didnt know what was happening.
Im still finding out which genres i enjoy to read so perhaps this wasnt the one. All in all it was a good book, i just wish i couldve connected more to it:(
I did love the drawings and the quotes that went a long with them though! It added color and depth of the authors story!
Im still finding out which genres i enjoy to read so perhaps this wasnt the one. All in all it was a good book, i just wish i couldve connected more to it:(
I did love the drawings and the quotes that went a long with them though! It added color and depth of the authors story!
October 28, 2025
I wasn’t the biggest fan of this book. I met the author at a lit fest, and I liked him a lot. I was expecting this book to be a whimsical and fun adventure, but I’m not gonna lie I was confused for a lot of this book. Instead of whimsical, this book was just weird to me. I can do weird, but not to the point where I don’t really know what’s happening. I’m glad I gave it a try, it just wasn’t for me.
May 22, 2024
Man! This is a surprisingly good, atmospheric and layered debut.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews