This was a book I found via a social media ad, screenshotted, and promptly lost in the camera roll shuffle. Clearing out old photos I came across it and several others, and decided to see if I could mine some hidden gems.
This could’ve really been something. It had fantastic characters, a plausible and realistic storyline, and the first few pages had my hopes all the way up on the top shelf. For an agonizing moment, I celebrated that I’d found another author that hit like Finn Dixon and could give me the same vibes and concisely-paced realism that I readily devour from his library of work.
I was unceremoniously Sparta-kicked off that shelf, hit the floor with a sad plop, and never could scrape my remains off the hardwood. My shame will live forever for even thinking that good things might happen to me here.
The repetition and inconsistencies absolutely—because ima go all the way if I’m going—mangled the whole thing. It was a disaster—extremely painful to read, formulaic and uninspired the longer it went on, details completely dropped and dismissed, important characters and information abandoned… just a metric ton of bad energy and missed opportunities. There was no finesse or heart in it at all.
1/5. Much like AI, this one lacked. It had all the components and possibilities, but it just never produced results. Hella disappointing and I hate that for me.