Monday, 25 November 2013

Down the Darkest Road by Tami Hoag

Once upon a time I had the perfect family.

So people do still begin books with once upon a quaint. Though, if this sentence is any indication, it's easily understood why writers don't anymore. What a lazy sentence. It does nothing. Then it goes on to define perfect family: perfect husband (whatever that means), perfect children (whatever that means), perfect home (whatever that means) in a perfect place (whatever that means). How does the reader know they're perfect? Because the narrator uses the word perfect, duh. No need to infer or imagine anything, just trust the narrator - it's all perfect.

The second paragraph begins and ends with this sentence:

And then, as in all fairy tales, evil came into our lives and destroyed us.

It sounds so simple, doesn't it? So simple, it's comical. But the short of it is that a daughter goes missing. How many stories of kidnapped children are there out there anyway? Anyway, now the perfect family sucks. I assume that also means the perfect husband sucks, the perfect house sucks, the perfect place sucks, etc.

Random unnatural sentence:

She showered quickly, hating touching her own body.

Overall, the piteous sentiment is as thick as cement on a turkey with lines like this:

She didn't deserve to look this good.
She felt like a fool.
Lauren succumbed happily.

If you don't think they sound hammy, try standing on top of a mountain and screaming them out with Herculean lungs and gnashing your teeth, hands to the heavens.

First thing said:

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Verdict: Fail

Rudy Globird

No comments:

Post a Comment