In a yellow house perched on the crumbling edge of Massachusetts Bay, eleven-year-old Penelope Willows is living in the shadow of loss. Her father is gone, leaving behind only whispers and shadows, while her mother drifts further away each day, lost in her own grief. Left alone in a home that seems frozen in time, Penelope clings to her routines, counting everything she can—logs by the stove, soup cans in the pantry—hoping to hold the world together. But this is no ordinary house. It once belonged to the poet Sylvia Plath, and her presence lingers in every corner, her ghost becoming an unexpected companion to Penelope. As the days stretch on, Penelope begins to hear the echoes of Plath’s poetry in the wind, feel her sadness seep into the walls, and see her ghost in the mirrors and empty rooms. When Penelope’s mother begins to withdraw further into her own world, leaving Penelope more isolated than ever, the girl’s grip on reality starts to fray. Haunted by the absence of her father and the presence of a ghost, Penelope must navigate the treacherous waters of memory, madness, and the fear that she, too, will be lost to the abyss.
Abigail Rose-Marie is a writer from Grand Rapids, Michigan. She holds a Ph.D. in creative writing from Ohio University and an MFA from Bowling Green State University. She currently lives with her wife and their very spoiled pets in Utah. For more information, connect via Instagram @authorabigailrosemarie.
More often than not, books written from the perspective of children are a double-edged sword. The presumed purpose of this exercice de style, at least in my view, is to tint the narrative with a slight hue of unreliability, sending the reader on a chase allowing them to understand the reality of what is being said through the fickle, slippery curtain of uncertainty. While not my favourite perspective to indulge in, especially since authors have a penchant for making children sound way too mature for their age (which also happens to be the case in this story), the premise sounded simply too tempting to pass up: Penelope Willows, aged eleven, lives in a yellow house on the edge of a cliff. Haunted by the absence of her father and unmoored by her mother's inability to cope, she seeks solace in the ghost of Silvia Plath who used to live in Penelope's house and is still roaming its halls, passing through its walls and keeping Penelope company in this precarious period of her life.
The presence of a ghost of a famous writer, troubled enough in her own right, should serve as the first indication that our narrator is unreliable in more ways than one. The problem with this admittedly ambitious endeavour is that this no longer allows the reader to glimpse the reality but actively forces them to, which is perfect if the story arc allows you to gleam the reward waiting for you on the other side. But this story sometimes meandered too far and offered too little incentive for me to be interested in diligently following the white rabbit, such as it were. Having a neurodivergent child tell you what's going on requires a lot of manoeuvring in order to make it all believable, and the author manages the manoeuvres with varying degrees of success; plus, this is probably just a pet peeve of mine but I don't know why authors make neurodivergent characters just sound rude, as if actively trying to prevent you from forming any attachments to them.
With the exception of those meandering passages, the story progresses well, culminating in an explanation that will not come as a surprise to anyone who has been paying attention while reading but will not be brought to you on a silver platter either. Like I mentioned at the beginning, books written from the perspective of children are usually not my cup of tea; I knew this going in but I'm still glad to have read this one.
Thank you to NetGalley, Union Square & Co. and Abigail Rose-Marie for the opportunity to read this ARC in exchange for my honest opinion.
White Rabbit is a taut stream-of-consciousness narrative that follows 11-year-old Penelope Willows as she grapples with the grief that her father has left behind in his wake. She copes by clinging to mundanities, grounding herself in counting her surroundings and reciting facts that she’s memorized. Yet, with each passing day her grasp on reality shifts and distorts. Alongside her mother, the reticent ghost of Sylvia Plath, and a number of other palpable characters, Penelope contends with the resounding weight of sorrow and heartache after someone leaves.
The horror in this novel is not of the traditional sort—the heartpounding, palm-sweating type of fear—but rather is a creeping and insidious dread, grounded in (ir)reality. Readers may likely discern the truth early on, and there is a certain eeriness in waiting to see when, if ever, Penelope will come to the same conclusions—or if she'll unravel instead.
While this can be considered a deeply triggering book, I think the topics were handled with poise and care. Representation of neurodivergence and mental health conditions in Penelope were realistic and well done. Moreover, all the characters seemed rich, full, and true to life.
The overall plot itself is uncomplicated and not difficult to follow, though the narrative blurs and lapses with Penelope's thoughts and memories, maintaining a striking balance that heightens the story’s intrigue.
Ultimately, White Rabbit is a compelling and sickly thrilling story with surprisingly tender moments. I even found myself tearing up at its poignant end. A read that is sure to linger, I'd recommend this one to fans of both literary fiction and the horror genre looking for a heartrending story.
Thank you to NetGalley and Union Square & Co. for the opportunity to read this book.
Set inside a lonely yellow house overlooking Massachusetts Bay, this story follows eleven-year-old Penelope as she struggles with the disappearance of her father and her mother slowly slipping deeper into grief. Isolated and desperate to keep her world from falling apart, Penelope clings to routines and counting rituals while becoming increasingly haunted by the lingering presence of Sylvia Plath, who once lived in the house. As Penelope’s grip on reality begins to fracture, the story unfolds into something unsettling, emotional, and deeply melancholic.
Penelope was such a heartbreaking character to follow. At only eleven years old, she’s desperately trying to create order in a life that no longer feels stable.
Counting objects, clinging to routines, and retreating into her own thoughts become her way of surviving the silence left behind by her father and the growing emotional distance between her and her mother. Every page carried this aching loneliness.
The setting added so much to the story’s eerie beauty. The old yellow house overlooking the bay already feels haunted before the ghost of Sylvia Plath even enters the picture. And when she does, her presence feels less like a traditional haunting and more like grief itself taking shape... lingering quietly in mirrors, empty rooms, and whispered thoughts.
The writing was beautiful and almost dreamlike at times, creating a story that feels both fragile and haunting. It was a deeply atmospheric and heartbreaking read.
Thank you so much Union Square & Co. and Abigail Rose-Marie for sending me a #gifted arc. All opinions are my own 🖤
White Rabbit is a incredible story of a young girl called Penelope who is struggling with finding her dad.
Its very much written from the childs point of view and how she views the world. I could appreciate and understand alot in this book the uncomfortable parts of family life, anxious thoughts and being able to read people emotionally.
Its also tied with a supernatural element which when reading your not quite sure how it will work out in the book.
At times its made me nostalgic for family life and anyone who has lost a parent will relate to the hard parts of this book. The emotional turmoil that Penelope goes through. The setting is serene and there is some soul searching. Its apparent Penelope wants her mum to be happy again and it has deep themes of how trauma affects everyone in the family.
An emotional read that takes you on a journey with Penelope but it teaches us to cherish and hold onto to those happy memories ❤️.
Thanks to netgalley for this advanced reader copy.
White Rabbit takes place through the eyes of an eleven year old girl named Penelope. Her family lives in a yellow house on the Massachusetts bay which was once the house of poet Sylvia Plath. Penelope is struggling with her father leaving and the ghost of Sylvia Path that she now sees haunting her home.
This novel gripped me and dragged me deep into the story. I loved the suspense and mystery that this novel has. You are wrapped up in Penelope's narrative along with her, which is not always rooted in reality. Every time I thought I had the story figured out, there was another twist!
My heart ached for Penelope and her mother throughout this story. You can feel the weight of their grief on every page. However, there are light and joyful moments woven through the story as well.
White Rabbit is a quiet, eerie little gut-punch of a novel that leans more into atmosphere than plot, but it absolutely works. We follow Penelope, a lonely girl clinging to rituals as her world falls apart, stuck in a old house on the edge of the sea that may or may not be haunted by Sylvia Plath. The line between grief, imagination, and something ghostly blurs in a way that feels intimate rather than flashy.
What I liked most is how gentle the everything feels. The prose has this hushed, dreamlike quality, and Penelope’s voice makes everything feel fragile and a little haunted. It’s a short read, but it lingers, especially if you enjoy literary ghost stories that care just as much about emotion as they do about the supernatural.
Thanks so much to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC!
I found the start of this book very hard to get into and didn’t really understand what was going on but I stuck with it - around halfway I started to get into it and was invested in Penelope’s journey to find her dad.
It made me quite emotional at the end and I think this is in part from the matter of fact way Penelope’s character is written, especially when she remembers what has happened to her dad and the trauma she had been blocking out.
I think it would’ve been an easier read had the chapters been shorter, 40m plus chapters aren’t something I have come across much and I would love to know more about why Abigail came to the decision of longer chapters!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
"I want to tell James that I do not think that he is messed up inside, but then I think about the way he likes to wear two different colored shoes on his feet and the way that he eats cereal with chocolate milk poured over the top and I begin to understand what he means."
It was a bit slow to get into and sometimes the writing can be somewhat vague, but I liked the depiction of an odd child. It felt a lot like it was trying to portray an autistic child without directly saying it, which I'm unsure if that was the authors intention, but I liked it. It had the occasional line like the one quoted above that I really liked.
The narrator, an 11-year-old neurodivergent named Penelope, is trying to come to grips with her father’s sudden departure from the family’s home. The house is one where the poet Sylvia Plath lived as a child, and her ghost is a companion for Penelope, an only child. (If you know nothing about Sylvia Plath, I suggest at least skimming the Wikipedia biography and maybe a couple of her short poems.)
As her mother becomes more withdrawn, Penelope seems to be slipping from reality.
That’s about all I can say because anything more would contain spoilers. This is extremely well-written, carefully crafted, and a terrific read.
The narration is very convincingly the whimsical, nonsensical yet extremely literal voice of a kid! It’s very coming of age, but I think it also read similarly to some gothic fiction. Reminds a lot of “We Have Always Lived in the Castle”! It makes just the perfect amount of no sense.
I want to note that I really appreciated what I thought was a very honest, realistic portrayal of low income families, and characters. I feel like I’ve met countless versions of these characters throughout my life. It’s rare that I find a book that I feel like portrays poverty without becoming satirical or miserable.
I cried so much finishing this wonderful book. I loved everything about it. Our main character Penelope was so fascinating to read about and I found myself getting so attached to her in a way I have never gotten attached to a character. There was something so intimate, raw, and compelling about being inside her world, and it made the whole reading experience feel even more emotional. Her companion of a ghost in Sylvia Plath was also a beautiful and appreciated addition. Even thought my heart ached every time I turned a page, I could not stop reading it as we got closer to the end. It is short but definitely memorable, it will stay on my mind for a long time.
ARC. This story was a gut punch. Penelope's story, dealing with the grief of losing a parent and the way our minds work to help us cope, was an emotional ride. The ghost of Sylvia Plath there to help her through and unlock things in the right time was a wonderful thread through the novel and added another level of meaning to the story.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I just want to hold out my pinky for Penelope to hold 😭 this book is unlike anything I have ever read. This story follows Penelope as she processes her grief and tries to keep her life around her from unraveling. Written from the perspective of a neurodivergent 11 year old, this book is so beautifully written.
Beautifully written - a story of the anguish of mental health and the trauma that triggers an obsession. The patience of all those surrounding Penelope as she learns to accept a hidden loss is truly moving. Strength comes in mysterious ways - even eating fast food or accepting family you never knew you had.