Through the years, books for pre-teens have been missed by me. I read through a bunch of Hardy Boys when I was in kindergarten, and then I dove straight into mythology and the supernatural. I skipped the books that were meant for late grade school kids, and only now as a father am I really engaging with them.

As a family, we've been focusing on the classic kids books -- like Pinnochio, Peter Pan, The Wizard of Oz etc. -- but Miloš & Brontë are starting to read bigger books, and we've been looking for things that might interest them. Neither of them is all that keen on whodunits, so Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew were easy to pass over.

I found this book for Brontë while browsing at the book store, thinking her love of ghosts and spooky stuff would make it a hit. She has worked her way to the third chapter so far, but I decided to crack ahead and see if My Haunted House is any good.

It's okay. It's okay the way a stick of gum's okay when you've got bad breath. You know you want to brush and mouthwash, but the gum will do ... ish.

My Haunted Mansion steals most of its plot from Beetlejuice, minus the nasty, scabby, titular character (because he might be offensive), and it throws in a hint of The Addams Family minus the sexual innuendo (because that might be offensive), and it drops all hint of anything even remotely scary (cause *gasp* that might scare pre-teens. Eek!). It is as artificial vanilla as you can get.

I guess it's cute enough for a six year old because Brontë is enjoying it so far. I have a feeling, though, that by the time it turns from My Haunted Mansion into "My Haunted Commune," Brontë will be wishing she was watching some properly spooky Tim Burton work instead of reading this friendly, wimpy Burton rip-off.