Where totters can utter whatever the fuck they want to
(I feel like I've written this review a thousand times. All of zem amalgamate into one.)
There was a turmoil watering down amongst us the day I realized there were too many bees in this world. I danced for the first time in a long while when I found this, experienced it first hand. Einstein lied, or whoever the fuck did saying there were too few. Not lied, per se, but subjectified it. Oh yes, they did. For there are people, and plants, amongst us for whom the bees stroll in orchards and gardens and whatever. For others like me, they pull the strings and make us dance like a marionette, stinging and inflating us with their acupressure of death. #trufax
There have been turmoils brewing in the readership for so long there have been books. For so long there have been books, some of the unrelenting cynicism- some of the jaded eyes that callously seek pattern, repetition, correlation- have been finding numerous others just like them. Historians and anthropologists debate over whether there is a causal link. This long standing debate begets much strife that compounds with each generation but one saying stands above all: if a story seems trite, should the reader continue suffering like a rat's fart? That remains for you, the reader, with varying and capricious demands, to decide. #sociallesson
Some call it infestation, others explain it in terms of demand and supply. I call it exploitation, but whatever floats *your* boat.
If I give off negatives vibes, will the Dark World ever get to shine?
If I am cryptic and no one understands, am I speaking hogwash or being cryptic?
If I keep asking rhetorical questions, not expecting answers, will you give a rat's fly? Will I give a rat's fly that you don't give a rat's fly?
YES, I will as well I should,
so without further ado,
scraping away the gobbledygook
here is my review for tu and vous
(but halt! behold a crappy rhyme
'cause you can't even with my psyche)
The Dark World, whence come monsters and predators, is not my choice of vacation but some creatures rage wars over it. Monsters v/s predators. It depends entirely on your perception who becomes the monster and what un-becomes these monsters. The ones on the other sides are the predators. For once, they don't want shit with human; nobody gives a shit about protecting humans; humans aren't fucking speshul snowflakes to be saved from the big, bad wolves. Partially, because good and evil are relatively used in this war.
Paige Kelly saves a kid's life and gets embroiled in this war: monsters hunt her and predators want to use her. No good deed goes unpunished, or so goes Faust. Actually, Faust says there are some waters humans shouldn't travel, but same thing, right? Good things are the domain of one deerLord. And let's not talk Pagan Gods, okay. They can be pretty scary and I'd rather not mess with them.
No offense, no one.
Demons after you, Paige Kelly runnnnnnn!
There are fights, creature in flames and blasts. Starndard stuff, you'd expect. *yawn*
Paige has a sarcastic, endearing(don't knock it till you've tried it) voice in the beginning but it's just one end of the spectrum. As she stars to grow and progress through the story(because character development, methinks), her narration becomes boring and soulful and messy. But mostly boring.
That's one word for the book: boring.
To ameliorate this, enters Logan Bradley. Logan Bradley is a teenage guy I could get behind. AT FIRST. But zen, character development, complexity and all the underlying crap. He's funny and faux-arrogant and sure, had he been limited to that, he wouldn't be a boring character. So of course, we have a tortured souls and haunted eyes and oh-so-sad past because war and death. This ruined him for me. RUINED!
Besides, my handwriting is awesome and everyone should be subjected to it at least once.
For sure he's not the wittiest cut of the veal, but these are funnies I could laugh at, because I am lame, but god no development. Not like that. Don't haunt your character unless you can convey it, unless your character has enough of a persona to handle it, make it look real. Don't use deaths to as a tool for your story or just for the sake of making characters more real. Two tortured souls as one, their passion and loyalty tested by one battle after another. Will their love triumph this war?
(If I make a face and no one sees it, are my emotions real?
Just in case:
The demons are vapid and the action scenes threadbare. You know you're in deep shit when magic swords that disappear(CARTER KANE) fail to rejuvenate you. You're in deeper, derpier shit when hai-yah! secret fighting lessons make you long for the inanity of Oggy and the Cockroaches. Which sucks, by the way.
Shultz did try to portray vivid side characters with layers, so kudos on that. There's a particular demon and a particular uncle who I could have classified as characters of interest, but sadly, the main voices were boring enough to make me reconsider. There are plots and going-ons and motives and parleys that mustn't be revealed which aren't ferried across to us because humans! and teenagers! Which, by the by, makes total sense but a being out of the loop does the book no favor, IMO. Shultz also goes for a non-instalove, making us wait for months that pass by in pages to see them fall in #truluv with each other. I appreciated this, but couldn't root for nor believe in it. Their chemistry didn't spark, principally because of the narrator's voice and her penchant for boring me.
All in all: run-of-the-mill premise, a couple atypical elements, good effort, almost-400 pages and a tedious narration make for a review that could be short but isn't because I tend to bullshit. A lot. AMAZING COVER, though.
Because I shouldn't be the only one creeped out.
Thank you, Harlequin Teen!