I wasn’t sure what I would get myself into when I ordered this book, but I wanted to end my month of LGBTQ+-focused reads with a bang, and that’s precisely what I did with this book. “Cuckoo” is a powerful and gripping novel that delves into the horrors and resilience of queer youth facing conversion therapy. To me, it was part “Camp Damascus,” part “It,” and part “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” Before I continue, I will say that this book is not for the faint of heart, as it dives deep into the psychological and physical torture these kids endure at the hands of their captors. It’s also filled with a lot of blood, guts, and grotesque imagery. Reader, be warned.

The book follows several queer characters who have been sent to a conversion camp by their parents to be “fixed”. The book kicks off in Montana in 1991 when a family welcomes their daughter home after being converted. They’ll soon realize that she (and they) were likely better off before her conversion. We then travel forward to 1995 (where we spend most of our time) and get a front-row seat at the horrors these kids face at the camp. Day by day, the weirdness increases until they eventually uncover the truth of what is happening to their friends. Soon, it’s a race against time to save themselves. The last part of the book travels forward to 2011, when some of the survivors return to the camp in an attempt to take down the evil once and for all. To say much else would spoil the book, and I certainly don’t want to do that.

What amps up the creepy factor of this conversion camp is the supernatural element. The mysterious presence that the counselors rely on adds an extra layer of tension and intrigue. It’s difficult to fight against something that doesn’t play by standard human rules, which ups the risk factor for our group of queer kids trying to escape.

I’d mentioned earlier that this one is not for the faint of heart. The author does not shy away from the brutality of what is happening at this camp, painting a vivid and chilling picture of the tactics used to try to “cure” these kids. The author’s writing is raw and unapologetic, drawing the reader into this camp’s dark and twisted world and those who run it. While it was definitely horrific (which is what one expects from a horror book), there were times that I felt the ick factor was amped up a bit too much. This is likely a personal thing because I’m someone who doesn’t enjoy drawn-out descriptions of gross things. In most cases – especially when dealing with body horror – I find that less is more.

The characters (and there are a lot of them) are not just victims; they are warriors fighting against the forces that are trying to erase their identities. Each brings a unique perspective and strength to the group despite their differences and the trauma they continue to face. The bond that forms between them is both heartwarming and heart-wrenching as they navigate the horrors of the camp together. The problem (for me) was that I felt as though there were way too many characters – or at least way too many points of view. The novel hops between several different characters’ third-person points of view, and often, we get several different points of view in a single chapter. This was highly confusing, and I found myself totally lost at times. It was a lot to keep track of, and if the book had been more focused, I would have enjoyed it much more.

Overall, this was a crazy ride with a highly inventive plot and a lot of blood and guts. If you’re a horror fan and aren’t easily grossed out, you should give this one a try. It wasn’t an easy read, but I found it highly entertaining. My strongest gripe about this one was that there were far too many points of view, which often got confusing. My rating likely would have been higher if it had been dialed in and had a lot less head-hopping.