Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas (Cemetery Boys #1) * * *

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas was a book I very much wanted to love. I didn’t hate it. I didn’t even dislike it. But in the end, it left me curiously unsatisfied, not because of what it is, but because of what it almost becomes and never quite commits to.

The story follows Yadriel, a trans boy from a Latinx brujo community, who accidentally summons the ghost of Julian instead of the spirit he intended to raise. Julian cannot be released. His body is missing. He does not remember how he died. On paper, this promises a supernatural mystery. In practice, the novel is something else entirely: a character driven, slice of life story that uses a mystery more as a framing device than as a narrative engine.

There is a lot to admire here. The world building is rich and lovingly constructed. The brujx traditions, rituals, beliefs, and mythology feel grounded and coherent, giving the book a strong sense of place and cultural specificity. This is a world with weight behind it, not a thin aesthetic layer. Yadriel and Julian are distinct, likeable, and clearly drawn. Maritza, too, stands out as a fully realised supporting character. The emotional core of the book is solid, and the relationships feel genuine.

My main issue is structural rather than thematic. Cemetery Boys is deeply invested in its characters, arguably to its own detriment. Roughly seventy to eighty percent of the book consists of conversations. Yadriel and Julian talk in Yadriel’s bedroom, in school, about their lives, their identities, their families, their communities, and broader social issues. These conversations are not poorly written, but they are repetitive in focus and static in placement. The story pauses repeatedly to talk, rather than letting those conversations unfold alongside action or investigation.

As a result, the mystery element barely moves. There are only a handful of genuine attempts to uncover what happened to Julian and what is happening in general. They are shallow, brief, and quickly abandoned. At one point, a key detail is revealed midway through the book, obvious enough that the reader immediately recognises its importance, yet the characters walk straight past it. From that moment on, the experience becomes frustrating rather than suspenseful. The solution is visible, but no one is willing to look at it.

Listening to the audiobook, which runs for about thirteen hours, this lack of momentum is especially noticeable. I have listened to longer books that felt far shorter. Here, very little actually happens until the final two or three hours. Even then, the mystery is not actively solved so much as stumbled upon. When a character later wonders aloud why they did not figure things out sooner, the answer is painfully simple: they never truly tried.

Some elements feel underdeveloped or unnecessary. Secondary characters are introduced with backstories that ultimately have no bearing on the resolution. Even the dogs, present, named, and occasionally foregrounded, contribute little beyond atmosphere. Instead of enriching the narrative, these additions add to the sense of sprawl.

As a non-American reader, I also found parts of the social commentary oddly distancing. While the issues raised, like healthcare, racism, marginalisation, are absolutely real and globally relevant, they are discussed in a way that feels very specifically American. They are not translated into a broader, more universal emotional register. This will likely resonate strongly with a U.S. audience. Internationally, it may feel less relatable.

None of this makes Cemetery Boys a bad book. It is a good one: thoughtful, sincere, and clearly written with care. But it is also a book that seems uncertain about its priorities. If it wanted to be a character study, it could have been tighter and shorter. If it wanted to be a mystery, it needed more structure, urgency, and narrative drive. Caught between the two, it ends up doing neither quite well enough.

I rated this three stars. I can see why many readers love it, and I respect what it is trying to do. But for me, the imbalance between conversation and action, between setup and payoff, made it feel longer than it needed to be and less compelling than it could have been. A stronger editorial hand, or a clearer commitment to its mystery, might have turned a good book into a great one.