I’m going to start of by saying that everything Neil Gaiman writes is madness and I love it. But with this book… I was so confused. But I loved it. But I wasn’t sure what was happening? I was scared at some points. This isn’t exactly a horror, but I wouldn’t say that it isn’t one either. It’s about magic and monsters and childhood and nightmares and it hurt my heart in an oddly nostalgic way. The first and final chapters show the narrator as an adult, and everything in between is him looking back on an event from his childhood, so it’s hard to decide whether this is a book for children or adults. I saw someone in another review recommend it for people who’ve started forgetting what it was like to be a kid, and I think that’s perfect.