I've never before been so pleased to have a book suddenly speed up to its denouement, at a rate that would normally have seemed both odd and at-odds with the previous storyline...were I not just SO freaking glad for it to all be over.
Annoying.
That's what this book was.
You know the whole way through that it's setting up one vague premise, which is going to be given ye olde switcheroo treatment before the end, but omigod, did it all have to be so interminably stupid? Or dull? Or utterly fucking pointless?
Regardless of whether or not premise a/ is going to be true, or if premise b/ will wind up being the real explanation, one thing above all radiates out from this silly little story: women are stupid and annoying and deserve most of the dumb shit that befalls them in this world.
Everything about this story was wrong and yes, it did sort of hurt. It hurt my soul to think that I had wasted yet another day's reading on something that just made me remember why I don't really like having to deal with women very much. They can't even be batshit insane in a slightly original or even vaguely dignified sort of way. It's always the same vapid malaise that comes from being "a bit tired" or "not been sleeping much lately"...even though women are like, supposedly super-mega-strong-and-independent and don't need no man...yadda yadda yadda...but miss a few night's sleep and they're crying out for SSRIs and a bloody talk-therapist's appointment. Weak sauce.
(And yes, I say that as a woman...a woman who did indeed go a bit batcrap insane for a short period of time a few years back...but I knew that the things I was seeing were not real. I wasn't annoying, whiny or insufferable enough to allow myself to get all stupid and pathetic over something as harmless as hallucinations. I knew logically that what I was seeing wasn't real...it just annoyed me that despite my ability to see it as nonsense, the somewhat frazzled part of my brain took a while to catch up with the still rational part, so I had to roll my eyes at the things that weren't there for a while until I stopped being a ridiculous female, calmed my tits, and got my shit together. So yes, when I speak on these things, I have both walked the walk and talked the talk. Which is why I find it so irritating when broads get all fainting-couch-ready, the moment they start to have a wonky moment...and why these limp, slightly sweaty storylines continue to annoy me, with their startling unoriginality.)
Between the endless talk of breastfeeding (gag) and the woo about witches, I really was just hoping that the MC would hurry up and murder her own children as soon as possible, as well as her annoying friend - who regardless of really, actually, supposedly being genuinely concerned for Ms Bats-In-Her-Belfry was grotesquely cloying to the point of also deserving to be euthanized by the end - because that would have made for something vaguely interesting to laugh at. As it was, things progressed exactly as I knew they would (with the exact "reveals" being as predictable as a Kamala Harris non-answer, retardedly burbled out in response to every question asked of her) and my only singular moment of actual, glorious surprise, was in finding that the last 4% of the book was the opening chapter to another pile of drivel written by Lisa Hall...drivel I will not be wasting any more time, energy or attention on.
And of course, let's not leave out the "oooh....woo!" final attempt at a jump-scare: just to try and inject the vaguest shred of interest, or concern - or anything other than the desire to gouge one's own eyeballs out with a rusty teaspoon - into the last dying breaths of this absolute waste of everyone's fecking time. These kinds of shenanigans are so easy to see coming, they make 'Gorlock The Destroyer - aka - Big Al Weezy' look like an ethereal, misted, sea-wraith at sun-up.
Why did I think this would be any better than any of the other garbage-tier titles I have made my way through, this past month? Maybe it's because, being a woman, I too am so terminally fucking retarded, that I keep on doing the same thing, over and over again, yet expect a different (better) outcome, that I know will never materialise. Just because I knew that those were hallucinations I was experiencing that one time, didn't mean I wasn't seeing things that weren't there. And just because I can see how stupid my own choices have been, and how idiotic my expectations always are, doesn't mean that I don't still go seeking out the very thing that I know will disappoint me. The true horror of Halloween, is in learning that there's little to be done about this ridiculousness of our sex...or any of our other stupid little feminine foibles. *sigh*
Women: the smarter we get, the dumber we become.