Jenna can’t help but love the outdoors — it’s in her blood. Her grandfather was the first Black park ranger at the Sturbridge Reservation, after all. She’s spent most of her childhood camping outside, with both her family and various scout groups. For Jenna, the woods feel like home.
And then Jenna sees her best friend, Reese, taken by a strange, massive creature in the woods, and her whole world is shaken. The forests that have been a sanctuary for much of her young life suddenly feel treacherous and sinister. Worst of all, most of the adults around her don’t believe her account, concluding that Reese simply ran away. Jenna will not allow the efforts to find her best friend dwindle, and so she takes matters into her own hands. After weeks of researching the disappearances and strange sightings that seem to plague her precious preserve, she joins another troop, determined to help Reese find her way back.
But the creature in the woods has other plans.
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Ally Russell understands horror. More crucially, she understands children’s horror. That much has been clear to me ever since I had the privilege to read some of her work in progress (full disclosure: Russell and I are internet pals). She can set a mean atmosfear (a term coined, as far as I know, by her, and one I’ve absolutely appropriated), and her character work is nothing short of stellar. We follow a handful of characters in It Came from the Trees, her debut novel, but she manages to imbue each one with enough quirks and peculiarities to make them feel not only distinct, but, more importantly, particularly in a category where the characters often tend to feel flat and hollow, wholly believable. By the end, you can’t help but cheer for this group of fearless ingenues as they stand up against a singularly terrifying phenomenon.
Which brings me to the thing that came from the trees.
I love the way Russell handles the creature here, treating it like a relentless force of nature rather than this otherworldly, mythical monster. Bigfoot here is less a boogeyman than he is a hurricane, and it makes for a more grounded set of scares, which I’ve always found make horror that much more effective. I also appreciate how Russell goes with the Jaws approach. too, having her land shark off-stage for much of the story, which does a lot to help build the tension and — say it with me — atmosfear. Like in that seminal film, each time the creature explodes out of the ocean of trees it is as memorable as it is terrifying. It’s a beast that feels properly dangerous and lethal, and it’s a testament to Russell’s writing that the fear you feel for this troop is palpable.
And despite all the brilliant scares, it’s this group of kids that truly make this story sing. Jenna is a wonderful protagonist: smart, determined, and resourceful — but still very much a kid. She spends most of the story absolutely terrified, but it never causes her resolve to waver. Saving her friend comes first, being scared has to settle for second. The rest of her troop similarly stands their ground, but I want to shout out Norrie in particular, who’s just an absolute delight to read. She brings a lot of comic relief, but is not without her pointed, poignant moments.
Most of these characters are people of color, too, which bears pointing out because it’s central to the story’s theme of nature belonging to everyone — a declaration that’s there from the outset: “To the Black, Brown, and biracial kids who love cryptids,” Russell’s dedication reads, “I see you. This story is for you.”
We’re currently living in an era of excellent middle grade horror. With It Came from the Trees Ally Russell has, like the sasquatch of her story, solidly staked out her spooky territory.
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