Even as a child, I’ve always been obsessed with ghosts and cemeteries, and despite the fact that I would have been terrified, I remember having this idea that it would have been so cool(!) to just move my whole family to a graveyard and live surrounded by spirits and ghouls and whatever other sort of lovely non-living things one might find therein. Since that obviously never quite worked out for me as a child, it only makes sense that I would eventually pick up The Graveyard Book to live vicariously through Nobody Owens.

“You're always you, and that don't change, and you're always changing, and there's nothing you can do about it.”

I’ve struggled with Gaiman’s work in the past, but this was my first time trying out his middle grade work or an audiobook format of one of his stories, and I’m not sure which of those details (or maybe both!) contributed to the outcome, but it was incredible. I absolutely could not get enough. I didn’t have any errands to run to justify car-listening like I usually do, so I literally talked myself into cleaning just so I had a good excuse to listen to this book. That never happens.

“If you dare nothing, then when the day is over, nothing is all you will have gained.”

First, Neil Gaiman’s writing is absolutely stunning. I actually find The Graveyard Book a little hard to categorize strictly as middle grade, because I think readers of any and all age ranges could easily enjoy this book. It makes it even more interesting that we get to watch Bod grow up throughout the book, going from a toddler to a young man, with adventures occurring every so often throughout his childhood. We zoom in on these adventures, but Gaiman’s writing has a way of making it feel like you never missed a beat, despite there often being years spanning between chapters.

“You're alive, Bod. That means you have infinite potential. You can do anything, make anything, dream anything.”

Bod is a really enjoyable protagonist, but for me, the shining stars were the side characters—namely Silas, Bod’s mysterious, secretive mentor, but also Miss Lupescu and Liza Hempstock, both of whom I would have loved to see even more of. The only problem with the time jumps between chapters is that we rarely get to see the same character two chapters in a row, with the exception of Bod and Silas, but Miss Lupescu’s chapter was quite possibly my favorite in the entire book.

“People want to forget the impossible. It makes their world safer.”

Of course, Gaiman isn’t known for writing particularly happy books, and there are some surprisingly tragic themes to the story—from the very beginning, in which we hear that Bod’s entire family has been murdered, all the way to the painful but necessary ending that had me choking back tears of both sorrow and indignation (how dare you, Mr. Gaiman?!) That said, it’s the sort of sadness that won’t be too much for children, and I dare say, I think would hit an adult or teen reader much harder than it would a child in the “intended” readers’ age range. Despite those heavier moments, it’s also full of light and smiles (and thinly veiled sighs of relief as Bod is saved from yet another disaster he’s landed himself in).

“The tongue is the most remarkable. For we use it both to taste out sweet wine and bitter poison, thus also do we utter words both sweet and sour with the same tongue.”

The Graveyard Book was so lovable that it’s completely changed my mind on Gaiman as an author, and has convinced me that I absolutely must give his adult books another try, because I loved every moment of this spooky little read and could happily see myself picking it up again and again in the future.