This Isn’t Camp Crystal Lake

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Read this if…you ever attended summer camp.

Goldie looks forward to summer every year because that’s when she gets to reunite with her best friends at Camp Alpine Lake. Goldie, Ava, and Imogen are sisters by choice. They live very different lives outside of camp, but none of that matters when they’re together. Goldie has had a traumatic year and she desperately needs an escape, but trouble follows her to camp when her ex-boyfriend, who is not a member of the camp, is found dead in the lake. His death is quickly ruled an accident, but Goldie knows that’s impossible and is determined to find out what really happened to him. Goldie doesn’t realize how dangerous her mission is until it might be too late.

I was so excited when I saw I had won a copy of this book through BookishFirst in an exchange for my honest review. The cover was giving me all kinds of R.L. Stine vibes and even though I knew this YA thriller wasn’t going to be Camp Crystal Lake, I was expecting a lot of thrills and chills. Instead, I was left quite disappointed.

The positives were that the writing was solid and the characters did feel authentic. I liked Goldie’s character and the camp atmosphere was well established. The book truly sucked me right back to my old camp days. My biggest issues were with the lack of thrill in this thriller and the overall message it sends to its female teen readers.

First off, I was really bored reading this. After the initial discovery of Goldie’s ex in the lake, there is very little excitement until the last twenty pages. I felt compelled to finish and give the book a chance to redeem itself, but I probably should have just quit halfway through. Also, Goldie’s ex was a narcissistic jerk and the way he is portrayed after his death sends the message to girls that it’s okay to let a guy treat you like crap as long as deep down he really loves you and he’s sorry. If you’re wanting to relive camp life, then you might enjoy this, but otherwise, I wouldn’t recommend it.

Thanks to BookishFirst, the author, and Razorbill Pub for my gifted copy.