The Dollhouse Murders -- Betty Ren Wright
Two things before the synopsis. First: As a friend pointed out, this is a great example of a cover art created based on the title (and possibly the back cover copy) alone. At no point do the dolls actually carry on a conversation with Amy.
Secondly: What was it about parenting in 1980s children's horror fiction made the adults such jerks? Like the mother in Wait Till Helen Comes, Amy's extremely tightly-wound mom seems to view Amy as a live-in babysitter who is a Horrible Selfish Monster of a Sister if she, God forbid, would like some alone time. Yeesh.¹
After a disastrous trip to the mall with her younger sister and a potential new friend, almost thirteen-year-old Amy gets an expected phone call from said friend:
"My mother's taking my aunt and uncle to visit some friends later this afternoon. I know it'll be too late for a picnic, but maybe you can come over for a couple of hours. We can make brownies or something. If you don't have anything else to do, that is."
Like taking care of Luann. Ellen hadn't said the words, but Amy knew what she meant.
"My mom doesn't usually like me to have friends over when she's out, but she said one friend would be okay," Ellen went on. Another pause. She might as well have said it right out--Retarded sister not wanted. (p28-29)
Luckily for Amy -- who very much needs a break from home -- her aunt is in town preparing Amy's (long deceased) great-grandparents' house for sale, and has invited Amy to come and stay with her for a few days. While Amy is there, she discovers a beautiful dollhouse in the attic -- a replica of the house she's staying in, down to the tiniest detail. But there's something strange and scary about it -- the dolls move around on their own when Amy isn't looking. And then she learns about the unsolved murders that occurred in the house, and wonders if there could be a connection...
Okay, so The Dollhouse Murders is awesome. It's REALLY SCARY! Like, STILL! And it's awesome in other ways as well: Amy's difficulties with and similarities to her mother; her desire for independence and an identity as something other than Luann's older sister; her mixed-up feelings -- from over-protectiveness to frustration and annoyance to grateful affection and love -- for her sister; her father's willingness and ability to look at the family situation and understand Amy's unhappiness without making her into The Bad Guy; Aunt Clare's scary (and borderline certifiable) mood shifts and aggressively accusatory assumptions. Actually, I thought Aunt Clare was easily the scariest part of the book, but I'll chalk that up to my adult's-eye-view of the book.
Fun stuff, and well worth a re-visit if you haven't read it since fifth grade.
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¹Which leads us to this article (unless it was an April Fools' joke...) and to Liz B.'s response to it. I agree strongly with Colleen in that it seems like the author went simply looking for examples to back up her thesis, rather than exploring the genre to See What She Could See. Now, personally, I'm just looking for good reads, regardless of where they're shelved. (There's the added bonus of always being able to give patrons lots of recommendations, but mostly, I am selfishly motivated.) I want the characters in the books I read to be developed enough that they resemble real people. Obviously, how they're portrayed depends on the voice of the narrator, and that, when done well, can add to the strength of the narrator's voice (I love it when the narrator sees someone very clearly one way, but I, as the reader, can see that person another way -- that was what made Emily's voice in Same Difference so fantastic). Wow. I got off track there. Anyway. The comments at the NYT article are, for the most part, really uninformed and extremely annoying.
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Book source: Borrowed from a friend.
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