It never fails to fascinate me how much of a cultural impact Scooby-Doo has had over its 51-year-and-counting history. The fans don't just love the series, they're passionate about it. If you need proof (and you have no human decency) just pop into any message thread and ask "Which series was your least favorite?"; within minutes people will be lobbing their ascots and lavender pumps at each other.
So, YA novel Daphne and Velma: The Vanishing Girl by Josephine Ruby comes with the pleasure of, and responsibility for, a built in audience with predisposed emotions for the lead characters. In case you don't know, Ruby is a pseudonym for an as yet unidentified author (or authors). But even with no previous titles associated with Ruby, I'm happy to say the writing carries both the air of professional experience, and a love of the source material.
Scooby's more visual tropes don't translate well into written format, and Ruby is wise to make sure the story works as a YA novel first before selecting which familiar elements to throw into the mix. For example, the dog makes several appearances but only communicates through barking; thus grounding itself in more of a reality than we've seen before.
Minus a prologue and some scattered interlogues, the narrative alternates between Velma and Daphne's perspectives. The voices are distinctive; and unlike last year's (dare I say unwatchable?) live-action DVD movie which focused on these characters, the cornerstone of the plot is their conflict.
We've seen Velma's insecurities before, but here they're on display in full glory because sixteen year old Velma doesn't have a successful track record to lean into. She's confident in her mental prowess but she doubts her ability to follow through. From the opening paragraphs, you hear her voice. This is the seed that's going to grow into the woman who will stare down her hero Ben Ravencroft. At her core, Velma has an intellectual thirst for truth, and this is the period in her life where it hurts her with the most regularity; when she's alone.
On the other hand, this version of Daphne is a bit of a jarring flavor. She's much further from her familiar(ish) personality that the franchise can't ever quite nail down. This Daphne is a mean girl. Not unsympathetically so. A combination of circumstance and the fact that adolescence is a hormonal circus, this Daphne can't stop herself from erupting. It's a painful, sometimes literally tear-jerking character arc she goes on. And it's poetically heart-breaking every time she refers to herself as a monster hiding behind a mask.
If there's a weakness to the novel, it's that the mystery takes a back seat. I don't think it's a bad thing; I was happy spending the bulk of the pages getting to re-know these old friends of mine. If you're coming into it purely for the mystery elements you might find yourself having to flip through the first hundred pages before the vanishing girl actually vanishes. But that's not the heart of the book. Like the title reads, it's about Daphne and Velma before it's about the case of the week. As this series continues, I hope those priorities continue.
Final thoughts: Ruby is an author with a legitimate spark. She's willing to take some risks with the characters, and her ability to manage the fallout is admirable. The Scooby franchise doesn't have a rigid canonical timeline, so don't try to force this into one 'verse or the other. Ruby seems to take most inspiration from the Mystery Incorporated series, while possibly answering why Daphne thought she might be going to hell in the Supernatural crossover. It's a YA book, so there's some mild profanity that I'm kind of surprised the WB allowed, but nothing to make it feel not-Scooby. And there's a nice surprise appearance in the third act that I won't spoil here.
In the end, I recommend both reading the book and supporting the series. The second installment is due in July, and all signs point to this being a deeply satisfying journey.
