There are a lot of reasons to dislike this book, but let’s start with the main one:
Although Sparks always presents herself as merely the discoverer and editor of the diaries, records at the U.S. Copyright Office show that in fact she is listed as the sole author for all but two of them.
So, this book presents itself as a cautionary tale about the dangers of drugs, bad girls, and most of all the occult — but in actual fact it’s an object lesson in lying. There’s no evidence that Bernice Sparks was “Dr. Bernice Sparks” or even that she had experience as a therapist. The boy’s family say the work is largely fiction:
The thing is, you don’t need his family’s word for it to know that this thing is a huge concoction of lies. Unless you’re currently off your much-needed meds and have been reduced to believing that demons hang out in teenagers’ bedrooms, you can pick out the “totally didn’t happen” bits quite easily.