There's something very sinister about the face of a porcelain doll. Empty and unblinking eyes hidden beneath a row of thick eyelashes. A pale skin, fragile and easily chipped. Long luscious curls and clothes from another century. The silenced beauty of a porcelain doll is almost too perfect to be comforting. 
 Therefore, I had high hopes for "Doll Bones". The front cover seemed so mysteriously creepy and the plot sounded like a crossover between R. L. Stines "Night of the Living Dummy" and Neil Gaiman's "Coraline". I was immediately intrigued. 
 But this wasn't nearly as creepy as I had expected it to be. While "Doll Bones" is an eerie story about a porcelain doll, it is also a story about friendship and growing up. It is a story of make-believe, play and fun; and those people who claim that in order to become an adult you need to silence your imagination. It is a story about children; but is a story about adults as well, and how good intentions can lead to neglect and clipped wings. 
 While Holly Black has hidden an important (and relatable) message within this story, it simply wasn't what I had expected. The story is more sentimental than creepy, more profound than haunting. It is more directly aimed towards children than adults - and it most certainly can't be compared to the depth of "Coraline" or the creepiness of "The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls". 
 Perhaps it is in the marketing the true problem lies. "Doll Bones" is promoted as a ghost story, while it in fact is a (teeny tiny) coming-of-age novel instead.