Here’s an update on your ol’ pal Mike Paulus: My kids are both in high school now, and as a result, I’m under constant attack. How so? I’m relentlessly bombarded by feelings of… nostalgia. I’m under heavy fire. I’ve sustained critical damage – nostalg-i-mage. There’s the back-to-school chaos. The chilly autumn weather. The fall sports. And my deep, unnerving hatred of the Berenstain Bears.

You read that right. This time of year conjures up many memories of reading to my kids, because I always loved their autumn and Halloween books the best. And there was a time when, if I had to read another Berenstain Bears book, I would have kicked over the coffee table in a blind rage.

Whoever decided it was a good idea to write over 300 Berenstain Bears books should be forced to drink 10 gallons of the salty tears shed by parents around the globe as they endure page after page of bloated paragraphs detailing the latest snore-venture of the Berenstain family.

These “beloved” children’ books – starring a charming creepy-looking family of talking bears – go on and on and on, and just when you think they’re done, there’s another four flippin’ pages to soldier through. For those of you harboring fond memories of reading The Berenstain Bears as a child, I ask you this – when’s the last time you actually read one? Try it. It’ll be a different experience now that you’re older and your brain is capable of telling the difference between a charming morality tale and 30-plus pages of mind-numbing textual fuzz.

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This book pretty much defined autumn and Halloween for me – it hardwired certain images into my head which became the gold standard for how this time of year is supposed to look.

mike paulus

I don’t think kid’s books need to be dumbed down, and I’m not against reading long passages to your children, sans pictures. I mean, a good story is a good story. Unfortunately, a good story is not to be found within the bizarre Berenstain universe, where a family of upright walkin’ brown bears owns a modern minivan while the father dresses like a Depression-era cotton farmer.

But hey, let’s not tear down things we hate, such as the horrible Berenstain Bears franchise which has demon-spawned two television series and an off-Broadway musical. Instead, let’s build up something we love.

Long, long ago, back in the October days of my youth, visits to my grade school library meant hunkering down in a secluded corner with a stack of Halloween picture books. I’d dive into illustrations of amazing autumn days and murky, monster-filled nights. I can’t really remember most of the book titles, just page after page of spooktacular images.

Except one. I do remember one title: The Pumpkin Smasher.

I count circling The Pumpkin Smasher on my Scholastic book order form as one of the very best decisions of my entire life. This book isn’t just my favorite Halloween book, it’s one of my favorite books, period.

The artwork? Fabulous. Smasher was written and illustrated by mixed media printmaker and handmade paper artist Anita Benarde, and published in 1972. I don’t know anything about Anita, but I’m confident history will recognize her as … just really, really awesome. The entire book is colored in only black and orange, with gorgeous illustrations of a small town called Cranberry.

Every year just before Halloween, someone (or something) appears in the dead of night to smash every pumpkin in Cranberry. The town almost cancels Halloween until some troublemaking twins take matters into their own hands.

As an adult, you’ll get a strong ’60s or ’70s vibe from the book, which creates a much richer tone, as if the story, decades later, may have become a kind of urban legend.

This book pretty much defined autumn and Halloween for me – it hardwired certain images into my head which became the gold standard for how this time of year is supposed to look. A creaky old wooden wagon stuffed with pumpkins and hay. Kids in warm coats climbing scraggly trees to hang up ghosts. A giant orange moon looming over a black town square.

Years ago, I tried to find my old copy of the book within the dusty boxes of childhood junk my parents kept in their basement. But it was gone. And it was also out of print. You could find used copies online, but they were pretty pricey. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see The Pumpkin Smasher again. Until 2013. Because in the summer of 2013 the book was reissued (to much rejoicing), making it way more affordable (to much rejoicing). That year, my family surprised me with our very own copy (to much, much rejoicing).

So I beg you – go find a copy and make your autumn season that much better.