I found this book on accident. I stumbled upon it while looking for something else, and the title interested me. I love horror, I love gore, and I like books that talk about modern subjects. I convinced myself this would be an interesting read.
"Trigger Warning" is a book that has absolutely no idea what it's supposed to be, what it is, what's happening within it, or what's supposed to be happening. It is everything that good horror is absolutely not.
I suspect the author intended this to be a sort of meta commentary on edgy books like it—references to "American Psycho" and "Fight Club" are placed in the book, along with several scenes that feel familiar to content from both. However, there is a clear difference between the works of Bret Easton Ellis and John Raptor. American Psycho is not written to be gore, vomit, and shit in your face for the sake of shock value. The violence and disgusting acts that take place in that book—any novel by Ellis—are written in with the explicit intent of being necessary to the story and important to what's happening. They are symbolic, meaningful.
The gratuitous gore and violence in Trigger Warning is anything but. I suspect Raptor was rubbing his hands together like a fly as he wrote this, thinking he was some genius mastermind of meta commentary and that he had cracked the code and successfully made fun of "feminazis" and "filmbros" alike. The only thing this book succeeds in is making me disappointed and embarrassed on the author's behalf. This book is not even deserving of being called disgusting—that would imply the outrageous amount of rape and gore is, at the very least, interesting enough to be surprised by. It is instead dull and empty. This is the work I'd expect of a fourteen year old boy, not a grown adult man.
If you enjoy books with extreme amounts of gore, I would not recommend this to you at all. Not even the gore is captivating in any meaningful way and is cartoonishly unrealistic at best. There is no element of horror present; everything that looks as if it could almost be thrilling, suspenseful, or frightening shoots itself in the head before it can come close to being worth paying attention to.
If the author of this book still reads his reviews, I wouldn't be surprised if this gave him an ego boost, convincing him he had truly made the most perfectly offensive novel known to man, one that's infamous and crude and terrible in all the best ways, but let me be clear: as soon as I am done writing this review, I will toss this book out and most likely never think of John Raptor's name again. This book is so terrible, it can't even be mind-blowingly so. It is forgettable and bland. This is the stale white bread of horror content. It is not worth anyone's time, even those who want to hate-read. There are hundreds, thousands of better options out there. Best of all, this book's plot isn't even organized or properly explained to the viewer in any sort of way. Remembering the details NOW, even as I write this review, having finished the book only a few hours ago, is proving to be difficult. It has nothing going for it.
If I could give this book below one star, I absolutely would.