A prolog to a novel is usually a short piece that sets the stage for the rest of the story. 27 pages is not a prolog. It’s a chapter! The regular chapters in this book run 2 to 20 pages, making this prologue the longest chapter in the book. And nothing really happens until around page 20 of those 27 pages.
Stinnett seems to have joined the fraternity of writers who feel the need to provide backstory for almost every character. Some of them are only a sentence or two – enough to ground the character without boring the reader. But extensive backstories on three characters in one chapter is overkill. Can you say, “TMI.”?
Stinnett also can’t send Jesse anywhere without listing everything – islands, bridges, towns, channels, roads – he passes or uses. Those familiar with the area will know what he’s talking about. Those who aren’t will have to read this book with a map at their side, something I refuse to do.
And Stinnett can’t write Jesse sailing a boat on open water without writing him putting it up ‘on plane.’ We get it, Mr. Stinnett. After five books, we get it! We don’t need to be told every time.
As in earlier books, there are so many primary and secondary characters here that it’s impossible to keep them straight – especially when so many of them have names that begin with similar letters like J or D – and whether they’re good guys or bad.
There are gaps in this storyline, too. In one scene, the good guys learn who the bad guys are, and in the next one, they’ve taken the bad guys down, but we never read how they did it. It’s presented as a fait accompi. Readers like to know things like that, Mr. Stinnett.
Still, overall, Stinnett writes a good story. So, I’ll be back for the next book in the series.