There are days...sometimes one after another...oh Good Lord, how many days there are!...when my storyteller side cringes in despair. The way writers buckle to trends! The way they praise their own work! The way they bandwagon! But I suppose I should be more specific.
You’ve heard me rant and rave about the prevalence of the unending series several times before this. You’ve heard me petition the heavens for a few decently plotted, characterized, and written novels that don’t have twenty-three sequels (with more in the offing). You’ve heard me fulminate when I’ve reached the end of a novel whose promo blurb gave no warning about being the first volume in a series...only to discover that that was what it was. So I shan’t assault your eyes with further harangues of that sort.
When I go shopping for fresh reading material – a daily event here at the Fortress – I have my antennae fully extended for all the known warning signs. It takes a strong sense of the original, unique, and exemplary to get me to start reading a series, when I know that that’s what lies before me. Even then, the odds tick upward only slightly – perhaps slightly more if the first volume is a freebie.
But what do I find this morning?
The book has as its kinda-sorta subtitle:
Glory be to God! Someone out there is thinking of us poor, series-addled readers who want a few stories that actually end! Though I’d never heard of author Jasper T. Scott, I figured I’d give it a try. I’ll let you know if it’s any good.
Yet there is irony in store, Gentle Reader. For the book has a kinda-sorta sub-sub-title:
So Mr. Scott has grouped his standalone novels into a kinda-sorta series!
Oh! The pain, the pain...
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