As a lifelong lover of speculative fiction—especially the cool edges where sci‑fi and dystopia pry at society’s seams—I have a soft spot for stories that skewer bureaucracy with a wink. Enter Caitlin Rozakis’s 2024 release, a magical PTA caper that proves the fiercest battleground isn’t always the battlefield; sometimes it’s the school hall, stacked chairs and a passive‑aggressive agenda in hand.
About the Book
Published in 2024, The Grimoire Grammar School Parent Teacher Association by Caitlin Rozakis is a comic-fantasy romp that treats school governance like high fantasy—with bylaws as binding as blood oaths and minutes recorded in enchanted ink. Short description: a wry, warm tale of parents, teachers, and eldritch admin wrestling to keep a magical school running without summoning anything worse than a sternly worded email. It’s brisk, bright, and wonderfully tongue‑in‑cheek.
Rozakis builds a world where spellcraft collides with snack rotas, and the result is deliciously absurd: bake sales with hex‑free labelling, risk assessments for dragons at sports day, and warded lost‑property piles that are definitely judging you. The magic is inventive yet grounded by the recognisable rituals of school life—sign‑up sheets, budget lines, and who gets the good hall slot. That balance keeps the book buoyant rather than fluffy, playful without tipping into pure whimsy.
At the heart of it all is a beleaguered parent—organised, exhausted, and armed with both a spreadsheet and a sigil—trying to shepherd competing egos towards something like community. Side characters shine in quick strokes: a headteacher with a backbone of adamant, a class rep who treats fundraising like a crusade, and a caretaker who knows every secret door and won’t say why. Rozakis’s prose is pacy, her jokes well‑timed, and the set pieces—meeting meltdowns, enchantments gone slightly sideways—land with charming inevitability.
A witty magical romp of PTA politics — review 🍵🍵🍵🍵
As someone who usually haunts the sci‑fi and dystopian aisles, I was pleasantly surprised by how sharply this novel scratches the same itch: systems under pressure, ordinary people negotiating power, and the eternal question of who gets to set the rules. The satire is affectionate rather than cruel, and the comedy works because it’s tethered to genuine stakes—children’s safety, teachers’ sanity, and the fragile glue of a school community. My verdict: a confident, cosy‑chaotic four teacups out of five. 🍵🍵🍵🍵
Strengths abound: snappy dialogue, ingenious magical solutions to very mundane problems, and a quietly beating heart that believes in collective effort. The set pieces escalate with satisfying logic—from a squabble over storage cupboards to a full‑on bylaws‑and‑barriers show‑down. If there’s a wobble, it’s a slight neatness to the resolution; a couple of threads tie off a touch too tidily. Still, the journey there is so gleefully constructed that I didn’t mind a bow on the box.
Fans of comic fantasy, school‑set hijinks, and anyone who’s ever survived a committee email chain will find much to love. It’s especially tasty for readers who enjoy Pratchett‑adjacent wit filtered through modern, small‑scale stakes. Favourite non‑spoilery line (paraphrased): “Magic is chaos; meetings make it behave.” Consider this your sign to brew a pot, turn your phone to silent, and revel in the most entertaining AGM you’ll read this year.
The Grimoire Grammar School Parent Teacher Association is a sparkling send‑up of admin culture with enough heart to make the minutes matter. Published in 2024, it’s ideal between heavier dystopias—a palate cleanser that still nudges at how communities work (and fail, and try again). Four steaming teacups from me, and a recommendation to pencil it into your reading rota before the next term begins.