Boundary Waters is a romance that perfectly sprinkles paranormal aspects to dive deep into

what love is and if it can exist amidst trauma, unreality, and the coldness of a place between life
and death. Jumping through years, this character-oriented story also delivers in terms of a
gripping plot with unexpected turns and revelations.

Opening

It starts mildly by playing out a school day for the studious, determined, and overly competitive
Georgia. Her focus on the scholarship is evident through a lighthearted thought: [These guys
could send me on a trip to the tar pits of Antarctica, and I’d go if it meant a better shot at the
scholarship.] and the reasoning she gives behind it is clear right from the start — she wishes to
move away from Deerwood. The starting point of the plot is also stated in the first chapter itself
when the history teacher, Cisneros, proposes a trip to the Boundary Waters in Minnesota. For
some readers who might wonder why Georgia agrees to go ahead on this trip, there is an
understandable drive to not leave any opportunity unturned when it comes to this scholarship
that is basically a ticket to exit Deerwood for Georgia.

Though, the fact that school authorities came up with an idea to test the Boundary Waters as a
grading assessment for their students remains majorly unjustified. Especially when one
considers the past incident of three missing children of the same age and the traumatised return
of one of them. To some extent, a reader can let go of a teacher coming up with this idea because
maybe the need for a student trip surpasses unfortunate accidents in the past, but for a principal
to grant permission, there should’ve been a more authentic pushback. Maybe Kafton does show
clear signs of worry around this trip but ultimately agrees due to the lack of any other such sites
to explore for students of AP Human Geography. Basically, a dialogue or two where Cisneros
pleads with a valid reason, like the one suggested, can bring the readers on board too.

Tobin is rightly introduced in the first few pages through Georgia and their academic feuding is
made evident through their conversation in the hallway, where dialogues like, [In any case, I
know you’d do anything to win.] and [You’d do anything to inflate your GPA.] Georgia’s toned down
relationship with her father is deducible from her annoyance at his ill timed call about
proposing to Tina — which is a great way to cross off a major involvement of parents. There’s
also a slight foreshadowing for readers to pick through Tobin: [Hell, you probably see this trip as
an opportunity — you can murder me in my own tent and blame in on a bear.]

Other characters like Daisy, Lily, and Edgar are briefly described for the little contribution they
would have on page. The subtle mood begins to set up when Edgar first mentions [the Boundary
Waters ghosts] while informing everyone about the fire in the summer camp.

Though, Cisneros’ attitude towards this trip raises a sour taste of confusion for the readers —
why does he decide to turn the grading system into a game where no grades would be repeated?
And when the students wonder too, he justifies it as a sort of motivation for the students to [take
it seriously] on page twenty-two. Such shady ideas by him forces the reader to worry about his
intentions and since the story doesn’t really focus on him as a character, apart from the first few
chapters, it’s a bait readers won’t appreciate. Maybe giving a slightly more context about
Cisneros’ idea-forming abilities can fill this gap — maybe he has taken other students for such
uncommon trips before and Georgia or the side characters can mention it during one of their
conversations. This can help readers conclude that he simply thinks too creatively for such
learning experiences.

Even his rule of no phones is slightly outrageous in a time like this and a destination like that. He
does state a considerable fact of not finding any service up there, but readers might wonder why
these characters of a contemporary age aren’t realizing that photos, videos, and recording these
memories is a possibility too. Instead of a teacher outright refusing any phones on a trip, it’s
better to let them carry their devices but once they begin travelling from the log cabin on page
thirty, they have to understandably leave those behind because the waters would need their
whole focus.

Along the same lines, Cisneros’ decision to refuse a guide at the last minute and complete
disregard of Stan’s warning around the [real risk of hypothermia] is staggering. There’s
absolutely no reason for such a change in the plan and the way Georgia attempts to justify these
risky decisions as her history teacher simply being ‘stubborn’ or Tobin saying he thinks Cisneros
really wants to see the Isle of Spruce is even more staggering. Another failed attempt to
rationalise this history teacher is on page thirty-six where Georgia narrates: [It was clear that
Cisneros was no outdoorsman; he was just a history teacher with a seriously misguided sense of his
own abilities.] One is forced to ask, why are the students not even protesting these bad
decisions? Why do none of them think about turning around when he decides to send Jimmy*
away? After thinking over this particular bit, one suggestion would be to set him up as either
adventurous or highly ambitious. Maybe he wants to prove something to the principal, maybe he
wants to be featured in the town’s newspaper as the teacher who independently took his
students to Boundary Waters in the risky time of May. Maybe the characters do show their fear
or concerns but are left with no other option than to follow Cisneros and his hurried decisions
because home is far away from these waters and they’re, at the end of it all, high school students.
Basically, anything to even slightly justify this irrational attitude he projects at the log cabin and
later.

Inciting Incident

An unfaltering interest is set up when Tobin goes on to check the rustle behind the trees but
doesn’t return. The fear Georgia radiates after the loss of this boy’s support is renowned and can
definitely be felt through the pages. Readers are forced to divide their attention between
Georgia, the main character who is running for her life, and Tobin, the love interest who is not on
the page anymore — which is great for them to be invested in the plot. The same scene rises to
another level when they both attempt to escape but Tobin signals Georgia to jump into the water
and even rings an emotional tone through the dialogue: [I’ll see you on the other side.] With the
event becoming increasingly intriguing through Georgia being all alone and not being able to
move forward or anywhere because of some underlying, unexplainable occurrence that she
perfectly describes as a case of [cruel corruption of physics], there’s no doubt that readers will
want to turn the pages. Georgia also correctly concludes this section to be the ‘thin place’ before
the next part.

External Conflict
The first conflict Georgia finds herself in after the major incident that has triggered everything
that is bound to follow in this story is satisfyingly realistic. Waking up to a father who has
already experienced a child — Sam — suffering the effects of a mental disorder, schizophrenia is
bound to put her in a place where she would certainly be judged through a lens of psychiatry.
And when Tony, the doctor, approaches her to talk about whatever has occurred in the past day,
Georgia carefully constructs her comments so as to not raise major red flags around her mental
health. The fear of psychiatric facilities, described through sentences like [catatonic teenagers,
locked in rooms with tiny windows and heavy metal doors] and the less conversational
relationship between Georgia and her father disperse all possibilities of her being absolutely
honest.

Facing Marcus, the lone survivor who had returned with trauma and been committed to
Mavenwood, served as a good starting point for Georgia to roll this story forward by revisiting
the Boundary Waters again. His story also gave a grave insight into what worse can happen — or
has happened — at this perplexing place. From Julian’s death to ‘losing’ Damian simply because
he was two days late, he knew the consequences and that worked as a great motivation for
Georgia to ultimately agree.

Continuing this meetup with Tobin in the following year is understandably a decision made out
of both curiosity and guilt. During this trip, Georgia attempts to seek answers to questions that
even readers would be wondering, like: Is Tobin really dead? Is this ‘thin place’ another
dimension? His constant deflection of these questions is also justifiable since Thana’s power or
position is unclear and what she might do to him if he gets honest is unknown for the audience
too.

Thana brings in another bout of friction during Georgia’s third visit to the ‘thin place’ by warning
her to not get too close to Tobin for he is dead and loving the dead is [forbidden]. She also sets up
something for the readers to continue on when she gives Georgia a choice to commit to this
crossing over.

Internal Conflict

Georgia’s reaching an inevitable conclusion of Tobin being dead is valid but a night of eerie
silence, frantic escape, and losing someone is certainly able to create a conflict within oneself.
When Georgia returns to Boundary Waters after a year, her push and pull between hoping to
find Tobin alive and understanding that he must’ve been dead is well portrayed.

She also manages to carry this guilt throughout the year and use it to water down her dreams of
leaving Deerwood by adhering to the bad, giving up her scholarship, and letting life play its
cards. And when Tobin reminds her that the sacrifice he made was so she could go on and have a
life, there’s a tug of emotions that enhances the main character’s personality in contrast to her
initial characterisation of a perfect, ambitious student. During the second visit to Boundary
Waters to meet with Tobin, Georgia comparing herself with others who had been on that student
trip is essential to show how little of a progress she has made in terms of moving on.

After five years, when Georgia agrees to spill every bean to the psychiatrist in order to genuinely
move on this time, there’s a lack of good enough buildup for the main character to find herself in
this ulterior resonance of knowing the truth and attempting to leave it all behind. Sure, she isn’t
really pulled back into a logical reality where she now understands every bit of occurrence and
is ready to disregard it all because some of her thoughts later on, during the same conversation
with Dorado, are well indicative of her using the same tactic she had earlier used in the story to
convince these health professionals about her mental health and earn an exit ticket. Her outright
confession of realising Tobin is dead, for example. But, throughout the session, she does
consistently mention her future plans and the need to leave this facility so she can start anew at
a law school.

But what readers would wonder is where she leans towards? This is especially confusing
because when she recounts to the audience how she was caught, she mentions everything from
a letter she left for her dad to genuinely knowing in that moment that her [only path was
onwards, to the Isle of Spruce]. So does she really believe Tobin to be dead or does she believe
him to be alive? Upon rereading quite a few times, it was evident that this confusion was
stemming from a very specific point where Georgia slipped while narrating to the readers on
page one hundred fifty-eight: [The truth was, I had no idea how Tobin died. I always figured Thana
killed him — maybe drowned him, or stabbed him, or even just pulled him over to the side.] On the
very same page, her thoughts also include: [My impulse was to say no one was ever going to find
his body because Tobin wasn’t actually dead,] She might be putting up a show for the psychiatrist
but she has to be honest and consistent in her thoughts for the readers — especially she isn’t
morally grey or an unreliable narrator anyway.

If she would’ve said the first line to Dorado, it was acceptable. But when the narration dives deep
into how Thana must’ve killed Tobin, the readers are bound to believe she completely believes
him to be dead. Which is then contradicted by her stern thought of Tobin not actually being
dead. Now, she does mention that she believes [Tobin was gone] because she couldn’t adhere to
the arrangement she had made with Thana. If this is what she firmly believes in now, there has
to be emotional repercussions. Maybe including some renewed sense of guilt — similar to what
she felt at the start of Tobin’s disappearance — or little hints like her blinking hard enough to
not let a tear slip can make the readers understand better.

Basically, the story turns highly convenient in this bit because Georgia is shown in this particular
scene at a month after the fixed date of reaching Knife Lake. This allows the writer to skip
through the initial emotional rollercoaster she must’ve endured because she does find herself in
a facility after years and she is talking to someone about Thana-Tobin after years of the first
trauma. It also allows the writer to show her at the best point of thinking ahead, checking
herself, and answering what the psychiatrist would consider to be right — thus, missing a
chance to show a more authentic internal conflict at this crucial place in the story, after which
the biggest time jump is seen.

However, seven years later, now that Georgia has become a lawyer, there’s a sufficient push back
she shows towards her thoughts around ghosts or hauntings. It’s good to see her logically
thinking about it all but not being able to ignore the true hints about Thana being real — as real
as a dead person — right in front of her all those years ago.

Revelations
During Marcus and Georgia’s conversation, there’s a ‘trade’ mentioned when Thana is brought
up and that is bound to hook the readers, especially when the main character recounts the
difficult choice she had been given: [me for Tobin, or something like that] and the guilt associated
with the choice she made to go home seeps through her thoughts.

Tobin explains this ‘thin place’ to be a place where life meets death which increases points in
terms of paranormality. The revelation doesn’t strike too hard since Georgia had mentioned the
possibility of the thin place being something along these lines. During the later visits, and when
Georgia and Tobin begin to seriously reciprocate each other’s love, his revelation about Thana’s
way of trading deaths is not highly surprising since one can guess so from earlier hints when the
main character points out the silence, the absent soul, the life vanished from Tobin’s eyes, etc.
Though, when he informs Georgia about his decision to partner up with Thana because never
seeing her again is [worse than an eternity with Thana], readers are bound to feel their emotions
suddenly swirl.

Seven years later, when Georgia finds herself looking for closure by commencing on another trip
to the Boundary Waters, the black and white photo that reveals Thana to have been a young girl
who died on the Isle of Spruce is chilling. When Tobin’s ghost directs Georgia towards the pit, the
mystery around his death and the killer are waiting to be unraveled, and the reader is bound to
be surprised when James* turns out to be the culprit. There’s no place to question this utterance
since the story does cover up well for him to shock the readers towards the end — from
Cisneros pushing him to leave to him usually talking [about ghosts and other creepy lore]. The
sequence is well played and while James’ reasoning behind the kills is too blunt and not
convincing enough, one can attribute it to unreasonable psychotic tendencies. The emotional
aspect of it all is portrayed with clarity, especially when it connects Tobin’s dialogue: [You have
to let me go] with his attempt at letting Georgia discover the truth of his murder.

Another quick aspect to appreciate in terms of realism is the lack of justice when it came to
prosecuting James. Not all killers are caught and while Georgia could find the truth herself, it’s
realistic to see the lack of official punishment against the local who had support from his family
and his ‘own’.

The epilogue is absolutely perfect. The way it brings back every scene from earlier to not let the
story end the same way it did for the readers before this epilogue is mindblowing. Not only does
it provide a better ending for those who appreciate a happy closure, it also lets the
paranormality of the story linger despite the revised ending. It’s certainly refreshingly different
and will be received well by fans of paranormal romances that jump timelines and play out
newer concepts.

*There seems to be a slight mistake with the name of the guide. Towards the start, the name
‘Jimmy’ is used but after around one-fourth of the book, the name ‘James’ is used. Obviously,
Jimmy has to be replaced with James since the majority of the narration uses the latter name.

Appreciative Aspects

The writing is great! It beautifully captures the flowing emotions and conveys the chills that are
necessary to enjoy the unexpectancy of a cold, haunted place that is so much more than that.
Except for some typos, there aren’t glaring errors to blow someone out of the disquietness. With
a first-person narration, the writing allows a reader to connect with Georgia on the most
integral plane of a human who wades through trauma, newfound love, and justifiable
otherworldly happenings. The atmosphere, setting, and mood built for each sequence that
played out on the waters, on the Island of Spruce, in the thin place can be attributed to the
descriptive writing too.

The romance is built at a perfect pace! From the very start, Georgia and Tobin’s banter would
instantly interest readers and their academic rivalry would invest the readers in what they
assume to be a fun romance but what would soon become an emotionally induced ride towards
finding solace with each other, finding undiscovered truth, and walking together out of it all at
the end.

The characters are developed with excellence! Who Georgia was at the start is not Georgia on
the bench at the end. Who Tobin was at the start is not Tobin on the bench at the end. The shift
in their personalities, either from the circumstances they found themselves in or from the
feelings they gradually developed for each other, is clear with each passing chapter. Where they
find themselves in the end, with each other and in a timeline where things don’t go absolutely
downhill, is indicative of the journey they made through this story.

Overall, Boundary Waters unexpectedly impressed through the turns it took. For a lover of
paranormal romance, scenic chills, haunted backstories, and mind blowing timeline
maneuvering, this story is a winner. I hope none of my critiques came across too harsh and that
the suggestions aligned with the writer’s vision. This was a delight to read and I’m positive
about seeing Boundary Waters on the shelves someday!