It's always exciting when a friend publishes their first book, and this year I've got TWO friends making their literary debuts, starting with Megan Paasch and Dream to Me, a young adult supernatural mystery/drama that has strong thematic underpinnings even though I wanted a little more meat overall.
Eva Sylvan and her sister, Rhonda, move to a small town to inherit Eva's great-aunt's house not long after Eva's dad dies. (Not Rhonda's dad, as they only share a mother, and this small conflict causes some strife I would have liked to see explored more.) When they get to the town, however, it turns out everyone views them with suspicion because said great-aunt was considered to be a witch. Everyone views them with greater suspicion once people Eva comes into contact with start falling into comas...right after Eva dreams about them.
It's a deliciously creepy premise, and I especially loved how Paasch frequently caught me off-guard by transitioning into a dream so fluidly. It's rare that we actually know Eva's fallen asleep and thus assume a subsequent scene is a dream. We often don't know we're in a dream until a character says something off and/or FUCKIN' SHADOW TENDRILS COME OUT OF NOWHERE. It's an effect Wes Craven employs to great effect in A Nightmare on Elm Street, so I liked seeing it work in text form.
I definitely wanted to know more about these mysterious comas and what was up with Eva's great-aunt Miriam and also what was up with Cal, a cute boy Eva befriends who has some cognitive issues and a mysterious past of his own, but I got a wee bit impatient of a lot of setup and teasing for many, many chapters of Eva asking questions over and over. It's not until halfway through the book that Eva discovers that her family has some kind of dream powers, which, duh? Thankfully, once that's out of the way, we can start unpacking more about these dream powers and her family history and, specifically, the history of her family in this town and why her family has such a bad reputation. There are CLUES and shit! Cryptic messages! Secret journals! All that good stuff!
Though I wanted a more propulsive plot, Paasch does nail that small-town vibe where everyone knows everyone, and I felt that uncomfortable paranoia where anything Eva did would travel through a whisper network and get to people she really didn't want hearing about it. I couldn't always keep the characters straight; Cal obvs makes the strongest impression on the reader since he makes the strongest impression on Eva. I also liked Bethany, a girl Eva meets at a diner who's a huge X-Files fan, but I straight-up missed that she was Vietnamese for almost the entire book because as far as I can tell, it only comes up with her mother's last name—which I either missed or just didn't do the brain extrapolation for properly, and that's on me—and then later when she's speaking Vietnamese to her mother. I do like when a character's race is mostly incidental, but I did get a bothersome jolt when I realized I hadn't been imagining her correctly for so much of the book.
Paasch also nails the atmosphere of Miriam's dilapidated house. Every scene set in that house makes you feel like you're in a ramshackle domicile that may collapse on you and kill you at any given moment. The lack of electricity, the rodents, the decay, it's palpable. Ditto to the forests and the cemeteries.
As I said, it's the thematic concepts at the heart of the book I found the most compelling, as it may seem like a book about grief, but it's far more about the related guilt and, more importantly, the need for forgiveness, not for others, but for yourself. Paasch—through Eva—relays a lot of messaging from therapists, and what she says here is familiar from my own discussions in therapy. It's very blatant, perhaps too spelled-out, but I did appreciate that this messaging was going out to teenagers who may need it spelled out that hard at that stage in their lives. As an adult reader, the fact that so much is told rather than shown in the flurry of revelations in the last third diminished the emotional impact of said revelations even as I could now better see all the groundwork that had been laid throughout the book. But also I liked that it gets hella supernatural-as-metaphor in that last third, tying together so many little things had been hinted at until then.
Even though it takes some time to set it all up, I really liked Paasch's conception of this dreaming power and how it relates to our brains being jerks, as Eva frequently notes. It's a clever visual manifestation of the way guilt can not only consume us but also ensnare others unwittingly. Honestly, it's very relevant to my own personal journey, and it will—to reference a different Cranberries song than the title does—linger.