Blight Harbor is the “seventh most haunted town in America (per capita)” and is a place where the paranormal is just normal. You’re as likely to know the name of the neighbouring ghost as you are the local librarian. And if something untoward hasn’t happened to you, you’re guaranteed it’s happened to someone you know. For an intriguing place, it’s a shame then that we see Blight Harbor only briefly in Lora Senf’s The Clackity (2022), the town’s appearances bookending a story about a young girl’s quest to save her clairvoyant aunt.

The first in a series focused in and around the town, its narrator is Evelyn (Evie) Von Rathe and she’s everything you could want in such fiction, a sassy kid with a flaw to overcome. Evie suffers from anxiety about her parents’ deaths (“My parents disappeared, and nobody could prove to me they died.”). One day, defying one of her aunt’s few rules, Evie follows her to the abandoned abattoir on the edge of town and, too late, encounters the Clackity, a dark and ancient creature that dwells in the slaughterhouse’s shadows. With its stitched-up eye, its rows of teeth, and its curious manner of speech, it’s a pleasingly creepy monster.

With her aunt in peril, Evie bargains with the Clackity, which results in the quest that forms the bulk of the story. In another world there’s a neighbourhood of seven variously imagined houses and Evie must work her way through them, solving their puzzles and finding the keys to unlock the next. It’s a fairly simple premise and to keep up the pressure Senf introduces a second villain, the ghost of a century-old serial killer, who never feels far away in his pursuit. Although the Clackity makes appearances in other guises, attempting to distract the girl from her mission, it ultimately feels somewhat underused, especially given it’s the subject of the title.

Although Evie’s quest is a lonely one, she does have one companion (a living bird tattoo that moves around within her skin!) who isn’t all that interactive, leaving her to solve problems on her own. Though the author is usually there to give a helping hand as there’s certainly a making-it-up-as-she-goes-along vibe, an accusation that could be overcome with cunning foreshadowing. That said, there’s a certain trippiness to its flights of fancy that flow even if they would only be sensible in the logic of a dream.

But as a reader with many more years around the sun than the target age (10-12 years) the moments I found frustratingly whimsical and contrived are probably, to younger minds, food for the imagination. I did wonder if I’d lost that magic of childhood as I roll my eyes where others may widen theirs in awe, but it’s just that, as an adult, I find my magic elsewhere. I bought this for a young relative who will doubt be swept along, but couldn’t resist a sneaky read in advance. Happy Halloween.