Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Verdict, No. 15

 (find the judgment here)
by Robin Wasserman
I bought it on a whim.
I bought it because it was cheap.
I bought it because maybe I was intrigued.
I bought it because Scott Westerfeld told me to.
I bought it without really looking into it.
I bought it because I was bored.
I bought it, okay.

No matter my excuses, let me tell you now, I will never be able to justify or excuse the fact that I paid money for this book. Nor will I be able to forgive myself for insinuating to the publisher, author, etc. that I am in any way interested in this book. I'm not. And it's not that it's the worst or even stupidest book I've ever read (cough*Twilight*cough), it's just...lousy. If you can believe it, it tries too hard while not really trying at all. There's a desperate attempt at shock-and-awe, at edginess, but two-thirds into it and I saw just how quickly it was getting no where. I mean, I forgot about it for three days straight--at the climax. And, let's be honest, I haven't picked it up since. Frankly, it's just not worth the time.

Maybe the fact that they had to repackage it to try and get more sales should have been proof of that.

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