This review covers the entire “G. J. Ogden’s ‘Contingency War’ Series.” And I am not making this up.
I’ve always had insomnia. When I was a kid, a read the latest Heinlein or Azimov strip from the SF magazines, with a flashlight, under my blanket. (This may have been the reason I did not read much fantasy growing up: scary stuff won’t put you to sleep.) Later, I read military (particularly naval) history books. But well-written non-fiction books also keep you awake.
Over the years, I’ve tried other remedies. Drugs—OTC and prescription. All of them. Sometimes in dangerous combinations. The idea is to knock me out with a wham without making me a morning zombie. The problem is not so much addiction, but getting used to it, so needing ever increasing doses. Nicht so gut.
I’ve tried Transcendental Meditation—took the course in the early 1970s with money earned from working as a cashier. Paid what I think was $25: a lot back then. It was a six-week course, yet I only remember the last day when we were assigned our personal mantras. One-by-one, we went to the guru, who whispered in our ear some meaningless phonemes , followed by a warning to keep all mantras secret. Sixty years later, I never have told anyone my three-syllable mantra. Yet doesn’t everyone think there might be only one mantra given to everyone, then placed under double-secret probation? Anyway, the point is TM is helps if I want to meditate during the day. But it doesn’t get me to sleep.
I also have tried similar phycological gimmicks. Basically, they are designed to slow your thoughts, wipe out daily or long-term concerns, and leave you with nothing but blackness. Blackness matters, to be sure, and if I can get to a fully black environment, I usually sleep. Unfortunately, that is the rare event.
I still read before I sleep, as I’m sure everyone here does. And, at this point—if you’ve made it to this point—you must be saying, “What does this have to do with G. J. Ogden?” Before I answer that, I’ll say that whenever I read a SF, Fantasy, or Techno-thriller written by an author using initials instead of a name, I assume it’s written by a woman. In this case, I’m too lazy to look it up, but I’ll use the feminine pronoun not because I’m Woke, but because I suspect it’s accurate.
Anyway, to continue not to talk about the books, my doctor suggested I might have sleep apnea. And if you’ve ever had that diagnosis, you know what it entails: two nights of sleeping at the basement of some suburban shopping mall with 47/11 wires hooked up to every part of your body. Thinking about peeing is difficult. But if you do, the helpful staff will rush in, unhook you (briefly) from the master control box and allow some privacy away from the cameras. Sounds, and is awful.
Your reward for all this diagnosis of profound sleep apnea (how did we not notice those brain cells disappearing before?) is a life sentence to a sleep machine. These machines ensure that enough we breathe through our nose, not mouth, so sufficient Oxygen circulates to keep us alive until there is still less social security. But both at the sleep test and afterward at home, with my machine, any woman would think I look like an alien. I was told “do everything you normally do.” So I did.
Now the wonderful KateBlue recommended the Contingency War Series, and I downloaded all four books the day before my first sleep test. I am astonished to find universal 4 and 5 star ratings for the series. Because my reaction was quite different.
Ms Ogden’s prose is so stilted that she cured my insomnia. Really. At least when reading her books. At the cost of a Kindle. You see, after completing all my ablutions, when I finally lay down in the darkness and started reading any of the four “Contingency War” books (2: The Way Station Gambit; 3: Rise of Nimrod’s Fleet; 4: Earth’s Last War), my eyes would close on their own command. Then I would fall asleep. Then the Kindle would fall out of my right hand and take a hard bounce off the concrete or hardwood floor. After about a week, the screen shattered. So, I had to return to my prior Kindle, with its iffy power cord connection.
Ms. Ogden cannot write. Her characters were cardboard—and yes, I know four of them were intended to be cardboard. But why write about cardboard? Simply nothing in his series made any sense or was the least bit interesting. I am tempted to buy another of her series and see if it’s similarly bad. But I thought putting this review on-line might guide my path.
Stay away.