No Safety in Numbers - or Reviews

Are all books just trying to trick me now?

Hello again, readers, I have returned—all married and stuff! I hope I’m not getting back to you too late, but my return to the working world has been a busy one. Plus, my wife and I have been binge-watching episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender. She has seen fit to introduce me to this classic, another of the many reasons I love her.

Anyway, while travelling all over the place for wedding- and honeymoon-related reasons, I brought along a new book to read: No Safety in Numbers by Dayna Lorentz. I snagged it at random off the library shelves, and judging by the cover and the inside-cover synopsis, I thought it was a YA sci-fi book.

Boy, did I feel like an idiot when—about a quarter of the way through the book—I looked at the spine to note the total lack of sci-fi marker. “Oh well,” I said to myself, “as long as I’m this far, I might as well get a taste of realism-setting YA, right?”

I hope that, when you read the synopsis, you’ll forgive me for mistaking this book for sci-fi. The upshot of No Safety in Numbers’ plot is at least the start of a tasty mystery. A mysterious bomb is found in the air ducts of a giant suburban mall on a Saturday, prompting the authorities to lock down the mall. After days of being stuck in this maze of stores, people begin getting seriously sick. The reader follows the exploits of two boys and two girls in their desperate situations, trying to piece together what’s going on—and trying to survive.

Let’s skip right to my biggest beef with the book: They never do figure out what’s going on.

The bomb, the supposed source of the contagion? It vanishes. One character sees it in the first chapter, and it’s gone, poof, for the rest of the book. We never learn where it is, where the authorities moved it (if they did), and—most importantly—who put it there and why. We don’t even get a hint (unless my hunch about a casual line in Chapter 18 means something…). The bomb is a MacGuffin to the highest degree, and nobody seems interested in tracing its origins in hope of reverse-engineering a solution or something. Instead of focusing on that, our four main characters focus half on basic survival stuff and relationship angles.

And…

Um…

They do a good job of it?

I can’t tell you with authority here. I’m more into the books of a sci-fi bend, remember—books where more things happen and a plot advances. In No Safety in Numbers, the plot is more of a backdrop, a corral made of basic lumber to herd the MCs into the same mall. This book worries more about character than plot, and it seems to do OK there. No one protagonist really lit my shorts on fire, but I still developed a favorite character—because he was the one who seemed to be actually doing something. Also, the teens aren’t as horny as the characters in, say, Rise of Renegade X, which is a welcome relief.

But, even if we’re supposed to focus on the characters as the main picture, an iffy frame can still detract from the quality. Plot is the frame, and its devices aren’t great. The maneuvers of the Vague Yet Menacing Government Organization (that one’s for you, Welcome to Night Vale fans,) keeping everyone in the mall seem weird at best and stupid at worst. Adult figures, with the possible exception of someone’s Nani, aren’t much more than plot devices. Because we’re focusing on character, the plot developments aren’t as dramatic as they could be; the revelation of the disease seemed rather lackluster, for example.

Then there’s the arc. No Safety in Numbers is the first in a series, but it feels like the story was cut off at the wrong point, at the moment of rising action. The story even ends on a dramatic revelation we really could have used, say, two-thirds of the way into the book rather than at the conclusion. Characters are in random places doing random things, not in a stable location where we can pick them up later. Worst of all, it seems like there’s no reward for reading the book. No main characters achieve a significant victory (except maybe Marco). Nothing is answered; we just have a pile of extra questions we need to remember for next time. The book just…stops. It feels like an amateur’s division of a story that’s taking long to finish—and trust me, I speak from personal writing experience.

My recommendation? If you’re a character-relationship-obsessed person, you might want to give this book a try. If you’re more like me, you should pass. Sorry, Dayna, but I’m not looking for the next book in the series. I can see it’s at least a trilogy, which means I’ll probably get little satisfaction out of the second book too.

Now, everyone hold on to your seats; just like I did in my last review, here are the reading notes I took for No Safety in Numbers. Enjoy!

Note: the book’s chapters aren’t actually numbered, I just did that myself.

***

Chapter 1: Fast start, and it looks like we’re exploring modern issues.

Chapter 2: Probably a relatable family setup for some people. Also…I see this is a 2012 book, but if the end of this chapter leads where it sounds like it will, it could get pretty progressive up in here.

Chapter 3: Beginning of chapter: SLOW DOWN! End of chapter: OK, I know more about Shay than Ryan—why?

Chapter 4: Beginning of chapter: I didn’t, say, accidentally skip a few chapters, did I? End of chapter: OK…again, still pretty fast.

Chapter 5: Getting somewhere. I hope this book wasn’t lying about being sci-fi.

Chapter 6: Oh, that’s who those guys were! I need to stop spacing out chapters.

Chapter 7: Carry on…

Chapter 8: Thank you, author, for interrupting that forming love triangle. Also, I’m an idiot—it says nothing about sci-fi on this book’s library tag.

Chapter 9: Mall plot is getting padded out.

Chapter 10: OK, security is ramping up, but I still don’t have a good enough idea of the severity of the shutdown to justify their actions! Please tell me this book isn’t going to make security and the senator the villains…

Chapter 11: So…was there a point to that chapter?

Chapter 12: Beginning of chapter: No no no, page 125, you do NOT summarize that conversation; turn it into meaningful, character-building dialogue! End of chapter: I wish there was a joke attached to the following phrase, but…that escalated quickly.

Chapter 13: Uh…it would have been nice to have a better picture of the rock wall before we started talking about potentially kinky harnesses.

Chapter 14: Come on—just say you heard there’s a fever going around, made more potent by the close-proximity confinement! You wouldn’t technically be lying!

Chapter 15: WHOA, MARCO, PETTY MUCH? In one page, I lost all respect for you!

Chapter 16: Can something non-relational happen and be, you know, significant to the plot? I’m suffering from major-development deficiency.

Chapter 17: Yes, Lexi, it’s all your fault. Plus, the bomber reveal had better be hella surprising, heaven knows the disease wasn’t.

Chapter 18: Beginning of chapter: Whoa whoa whoa—the bomb threat started on a Saturday, but that guy said he hadn’t slept since Friday…is he the bomber? End of chapter: Taking that death pretty well, ain’t’cha…

Chapter 19: Yay! Things are happening!

Chapter 20: It’s official, I like Ryan the best. At least he seems to be an active agent, even if he’s only being dragged along by Mike and Drew.

Chapter 21: Beginning of chapter: Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to this new character who has materialized before us: Horny Marco. End of chapter: Ooo, plot things…

Chapter 22: Beginning of chapter: I like the word “crapaclysm”. End of chapter: Unless I get more reasons, I’m going to label this the dumbest quarantine ever.

Chapter 23: Good going, keep it up…

Chapter 24: Oh, come on! Him, really?

Chapter 25: The medical/government forces of this world are morons. Plus, am I a bad person for being grateful one character has finally passed away?

Chapter 26: Look, I’m glad my favorite character is still alive, but can’t we at least have a clever plan that GOES SOMEWHERE?

Chapter 27: Really, a fire extinguisher? Plus, while I appreciate this chapter’s subject actually doing stuff, I still think he’s the villain here.

Chapter 28: Nothing like trauma to reunite a family. But…where did the stampede go?

Chapter 29: Beginning of chapter: Hey, something new! End of chapter: Nice twist—BUT WHY THE F*** WASN’T THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BOOK? WHY ISN’T ANYTHING TIED OFF IN A SATISFACTORY MANNER? THIS ISN’T AN ENDING; THIS IS AN AUTHOR KILLING A PROJECT AFTER WRITING HERSELF INTO A CORNER! AND WHAT ABOUT THAT GUY WHO HADN’T EATEN SINCE FRIDAY? Also, why the bomb? Who put it there? Is that massively important device a mere MacGuffin to make the character-relationship study happen? RRR!

***

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to subscribe!

Renegade X Review - With Chapter notes!

Come on, Chelsea M.Campbell.

When I picked up your book, I was expecting deep superhero stuff. I was expecting a young rebel to question what it truly means to be a hero or a villain, to weigh the good against the evil, determine the difference between what is good and evil, and maybe refine his philosophy by getting his teeth kicked in before ultimately emerging triumphant or something.

Instead, I got the horniest bunch of teenagers on any given side of the railroad tracks.

The Rise of Renegade X all but called out to me from the shelves with its synopsis. In its world’s central setting, Golden City, heroes and villains (both sides have superpowers) are commonplace—and tourist attractions. When they turn 16, people of hero lineage have one of their thumbprints morph into an H while the villains get a V. Damien Locke, the proud son of a supervillain-ess, discovers his unknown father was a superhero when his thumbprint turns into an X, casting a shadow across his otherwise rosy path toward villainy. As a consequence, he ends up living with his hero father’s family, a situation he will set out to rectify by trying double-hard to become the villain he was always meant to be…

So, what does he do? Unleash plague on his new step-family? Burn their house to the ground, and then burn the ground? Invent a mind control device to bend his step-family to his will?

Nope.

He makes risqué jokes, does juvenile pranks (i.e. worms in the shampoo), and is generally a brat. When he’s not trying to “I’m-not-touching-you” his step-family to death, he’s just an all-round hornball, trying to French hot girls no matter how much he “doesn’t want to.”

It’s not like he’s starved for targets, either. Everybody, and I mean everybody who isn’t under 8 years old, is horny as s***. Every time a sex-related theme is brought to the table, be it perversion, fornication, sodomy, teen pregnancy, or outright assault, it’s handled with disturbing casualness. In one particular case, a friends-with-benefits relationship is discussed as a mere science project. There’s hardly any philosophical inquiry into what makes a hero a hero and a villain a villain; Megamind had more depth in this angle than Renegade X, not to mention—spoiler alert—a more convincing transition of a dedicated villain into a sort-of hero.

That’s the book’s biggest problem, in my semi-professional opinion: who on earth is the audience? With an uncomplicated plot and simplistic tone, this seems like a book for the lower end of the teen scale. However, with the shamelessly sexed-up teens, the subject matter veers into the upper-teen category, and it seems to want to take these teens further into adult territory. I mean, this book lured me in with promises of HIVE, and while there is an actual superhero-ish plot, it’s only there for one-fourth of the book—and that’s a generous estimate. Instead, it looks like H.I.V.E., got pillaged by Twilight, left for dead as a weird teen romance book.

Also, we visit Vilmore, a villain academy, which is never described. I never get to bathe in its villainy. Instead, we visit a nondescript dorm room where—shocker—there’s a bunch of making-out going on (out in the open, anyway, but we can get a good idea of what goes on behind closed doors).

And the plot’s kinda predictable.

And the ultimate villain is just some idiot bloke, really.

And there’s a shapeshifter girl whose power is never used as a major plot twist. Come on! That’s like the first thing you’re supposed to do with a shapeshifter! She could have had any other superpower!

And the reason for the Hs and Vs on thumbs is because the long-ago-heroes developed a virus to mark the villains with Vs, who in turn made a virus to mark the heroes with Hs—which means, in my opinion, the early villains were knuckle-dragging morons. If you can make thumb-letters from viruses, why not mark the heroes with Vs too? Can you imagine the results, the book we’d get instead? All of society having to discern between the heroic and villainous superpowered people as individuals, seeing beyond the semi-racist stereotypes and asking their own philosophic questions? Imagine heroic individuals having an excuse to be villains! Imagine softcore villains sheepishly straying into the path of the righteous! Imagine the story that could have been (unless the author is planning on using that idea in a sequel)!

So, as far as this book goes—do I hate it?

Actually, not really.

Heaven knows I don’t hate it as much as Enclave.

This book has its shining moments, especially when it lets the superhero side shine through and Damien is more than horny a-hole. I love the rare occasion he does an actual supervillain-y thing (i.e. his petty vengeance on someone he invited to his birthday party). I love the scene where his stepfather tries to teach him to fly. I love some of Damien’s one-liners, and the last sentence of the book is one of the best closing remarks I’ve seen in a YA book in a long, long time. The plot, while simple, has a nice arc and a good climax. One of the relationship threads was tied off with surprising maturity. Heck, even the horniness is likely a representation of the world and mindset in which the author grew up, now being conveyed to us. I don’t have to like the mindset, but if it’s all the author knows, that’s understandable.

I still feel betrayed, though. Looking at everything about this book, I thought it was going to teach me its own perspective of what makes a hero or villain. Instead, I’ve got casual sex references. Maybe that does it for you, but it’s not my thing. If you want to take a look at it, go ahead, but I give the whole thing a soft pass.

(Seriously, I think the only advice the author was given about boys when she was growing up was, “They only have their minds on one thing,”—and then she wrote a whole book about it.)

One more thing: there’s a major character in the book who takes notes on everything. Well, isn’t that a coincidence! With this book, I test-ran a discipline of writing two-sentence summaries of individual chapters, so I’ve got notes too! Here they are, chapter by chapter. Feel free to read them in tandem with the actual book.

Ben’s notes: The Rise of Renegade X

Chapter 1: Nice city concept, but I guessed the big surprise by page 14. Liking the MC’s evil s***, though.

Chapter 2: Turkey baster joke was boss. Sex references are pretty casual; guess that reflects the times.

Chapter 3: Tension low, but isn’t it how funny how casual sex/relationship attitudes lead to dumb, overdramatic complications? Also, how can Kat’s mom be part of a supervillain family and fall for such an illogical and obviously manipulative lie?

-        (Also, page 51: please tell me you’ve heard of Cyclops and you were being sarcastic.)

Chapter 4: OK, that was quick; still being casual as hell. I do, however, like the idea of Damien’s fake diary—if that’s not what I’m reading right now.

Chapter 5: I’m getting a lot of he-says-it’s-not-going-to-happen-but-we-all-know-it’ll-happen-anyway vibes. Very much forward to where Damien’s list of enemies will go.

Chapter 6: Just a random collection of scenes, and Damien’s equation seems to be soft hero plus douche. I think this book might be taking an overall racism-perception path.

Chapter 7: Beginning of chapter: WTF is going on here? End of chapter: Why is it, whenever Damien’s plans come to fruition, I’m left asking, “That’s IT?”—and why is half the book’s data conveyed with a character quote immediately followed by a non-quote first-person monologue?

Chapter 8: The first half of this chapter is friggin’ awesome, plus it looks like the plot is gaining steam. My money is on Damien having to fight his mom at the climax or near-climax.

Chapter 9: OK, 1) STOP THE CASUAL SEX REFERENCES, AND 2) SHOULDN’T YOU BE THRILLED IF PEOPLE THINK YOU’RE A VILLAIN? What, is your only evil trait your hyper-sexed teen brain?

Chapter 10: Beginning of chapter: WHA—FU—JUST LIKE THAT—WHAT ABOUT JACK—THAT’S F***ING ALL??? End of chapter: Almost had something interesting happen back there—AND SARAH, JUST TELL DAMIEN WHAT YOUR F***ING GUN OF PLOT CONVENIENCE DOES!

Chapter 11: Beginning of chapter: Wait—describe Vilmore! End of chapter: HOLY S***, IS EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK HORNY??

Chapter 12: Beginning of chapter: Lemme get this straight…you’re on your way to rescue your father, Sarah, and all you can talk about with Damien—another minor like you—is having experiment-like SEX?? End of chapter: Having a hard time caring about any of this.

Chapter 13: Beginning of chapter: So…in this author’s head, superheroes are racists (although they get an OK scene in this chapter) and these teens are her personal porn fantasy—got it. End of chapter: DO SUPERVILLAIN THINGS; THAT’S WHY I PICKED UP THIS BOOK!

Chapter 14: Almost had an interesting scene there—but then eight tons of tangled-relationship s*** smothered that sucker. Plus, Damien, don’t you WANT to be pegged as a villain, you inconsistent douche canoe?

Chapter 15: Beginning of chapter: You did NOT just put one of those cliché romance scenes in this supposedly superhero/supervillain book! End of chapter: Like mother, like son; when I heard Ms. Locke’s plan (which I more-or-less predicted), I caught myself thinking, “That’s IT?”

Chapter 16: Starts with a dick-measuring contest and ends with the plot-turnaround of every MacGyver episode. But hey, the plot’s moving.

Chapter 17: Surprise twist, but handled with zero drama; why is it the relationships are dramatic but the plot isn’t? On the plus side, Damien’s a little more interesting when the plot is moving—yet Megamind at the END of his titular movie is more of a villain than he is—and one relationship thread seems to have been tied off with surprising maturity.

Chapter 18: Beginning of chapter: He’s gonna fly. End of chapter: …OK, maybe not now, but he’s gotta soon.

Chapter 19: OK, I like that “As long as my mouth works” line—good one. Decent climax action, too—props.

Chapter 20: Wait…we’re…OK with superhero stuff now? I’d say it’s abrupt, but this guy has been in the hero-ish denial zone for a while…

Chapter 21: Might as well use the end to remind us how, in the end, everyone in the book is horny. However…there is absolutely nothing wrong with this book’s concluding sentence.

***

Final note: It might be a while before you hear from me again; I’m getting married in a couple of weeks—to somebody who likes to hear me rant about books. No romance novels can beat that.

Dreadful Sorry, Ann Aguirre

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while now (bless you, poor souls) know that one of my favorite "whipping books", a baseline for all I do not like about young adult sci-fi/dystopia fiction, is Rick Yancey's 5th Wave. I have ranted about it before ad nauseam, and it has been one of the few books that has evoked in me real, visceral anger in me while I was reading it.

Until recently, that is.

Before we get this slugfest going, though, I do want to make clear that I hate criticizing a book to death. As a writer myself, I know there was someone who--hopefully--put time, effort, and passion into their work, and I would rather write lavish praise for something I've read than put it through the wringer. However, Enclave by Ann Aguirre leaves me no choice in the matter. For pity's sake, the author is a New York Times bestseller! She has a degree in English Literature and is a fan of Doctor Who!

In the immortal words of Treebeard, "A wizard should know better!"

Yes, reading this book makes me angry. It makes me so angry that my fiancee will go on video calls with me just to watch me read it. In this case, I thank Enclave for strengthening our relationship, as my fiancee hasn't broken off our engagement after 1) seeing what happens when I get mad, and 2) hearing my terminal case of potty mouth. It's these kinds of stories that can turn a reasonable, levelheaded guy into the Nostalgia Critic, I swear.

Here's the quick synopsis: it's a YA dystopisa. Blah blah fighting main-character-girl, blah blah world almost ended, blah blah brooding soon-to-be-boyfriend, blah blah cast out of her society, blah blah wandering ruins. The blurb on the cover says this book is for fans of The Hunger Games, but honestly, I'm getting a lot of watered-down Maze Runner--if the main character from Divergent were the lead instead.

What's this dystopian world like? Well, this is where my first major criticism of Enclave comes in: hardly anything gets described. If Aguirre has a grand, breathtaking image in mind for her world, heaven knows she's not telling us. The book has two main settings--underground tunnels and overworld wreckage--but the few-if-any descriptions are all stock footage, bland and hard to visualize. The main character (whose name is Deuce, by the way) does not let herself go when it comes to new and unusual things, often covering them in her first-person narrative in a way that feels almost disinterested. I will give Aguirre credit: the books starts imaginative in the underground society's structure and rituals, but that all gets lost in the second half of the book when Deuce and her boring brooding boyfriend Fade reach the surface of the scorched earth.

Up there, our heroes even run into a gang--and all I know about them is they are 1) male, 2) rapists (sort of--Deuce remains unaffected), 3) they paint themselves somehow, and 4) they carry weapons of some sort. That's it. Their leader, Stalker, has facial scars that Deuce somehow knows are self-inflicted, but that's it. In my mind's eye, I've been picturing a roving band of creepy clowns, pies in one hand and knives in the other, and that image has never been contradicted. Plus, the descriptions often contradict themselves. Deuce can see the moon and stars on page 142 and, with no transition or explanation, it's raining on page 143. There's daylight on page 194, but--without a scene shift or significant passage of time--the sun hasn't come up yet in page 198.

Aguirre never milks a scene for all its worth. Major characters and supposedly surprising plot twists just come and go in the eyes of the tell-don't-show protagonist. This has been the case with nearly all the book's descriptions, especially in the second half; they come either too late or not all. I have a theory that Enclave's editor either gave up halfway through the book or, having been told this was book one of a series, thought he/she was done with the job after editing the first part.

There are a whole host of other issues I have with the book, including:
- Unrealistic combat (mid-combat reflectiveness, dumb banter, a slave becoming a super-soldier when she holds a club, and, I'm not kidding, someone wins a fight with a kick to the crotch);
- Zombies (yes, there are friggin' zombies from the get-go);
- Adverbs are friggin' everywhere;
- Deuce starts the book almost illiterate, and then--for no reason--can read well in the second half (also, in her narration, she does not know what "evacuation" means but does use words like "chagrined");
- Deuce and Fade are literal messiah figures, offering themselves up for friends and such with hardly any motivation or deep thought/conflict;
- Nonsensical character actions (Deuce and Fade are all gung-ho about the zombies getting supposedly smarter, but after their elders dismiss their report for no friggin' reason, the romantic duo seem to forget about the threat too);
- Character conversations, in the middle of which are paragraphs (FULL PARAGRAPHS) of Deuce monologuing for no d*** reason;
- Stupid and short-lived love triangles (Deuce isn't the only one after Fade's organic pogo stick, if you get my drift; she becomes a real b**** if there's a remotely attractive female within 50 yards of her man--but it's OK, because that female is usually dead within a couple chapters!);
- Secondary characters whose personalities and traits are boring and forgettable;
- Primary characters whose personalities and traits are boring and forgettable;
- Authority figures who are royal A-holes for no reason other than the fact they are authority figures;
- A shoehorned-in rich-people-are-evil message dropped on page 189 for no d*** reason.

There are more points I'm probably forgetting, but here's one more I have to mention; it's the reason I can never forgive Enclave even if it explodes into gumdrops or something. I refer to page 153: Deuce gets captured by a gang whose leader, of course, wants to have his way with her. He leaves her to a slave girl who's supposed to clean her up. Deuce sees this girl, bruised and quite obviously abused in every imaginable way.

What does she think? I'll quote the book:

"She left my hands tied. Smart girl. Well, relatively. She couldn't be too smart if she took those bruises without complaining, but as I knew, you got used to anything."

It was at this point I stood up and hurled the book across the room. There you have it folks; our main character, who has already been set up as a strong, confident woman in the vein of Captain Marvel, is shaming an abuse victim while knowing next to nothing about her. This book was written by a woman, people! What the flying f***?

I...just...RRRR.

(*bites book in half and spits out fragments*)

Deep breath...

I could keep ranting, but we're running out of time here. I will admit this book educated me to the proper use of the word "ahold"; I thought Aguire was using it incorrectly on page 193, but I checked a dictionary and was proven wrong. Point goes to Enclave there.

Final thing to bear in mind: I'm only up to page 200 out of 259. It's taking me a while to read this book, especially when I have to wait for my fiancee to be free for a video chat. However, I do believe I am far enough along in this book to give you my too-honest impressions. Who knows, though? Maybe I'll get sold on this book in the last 60 pages; if that's the case, I'll be sure to return and let you know the error of my ways.

I'm not holding my breath, though. Here's all I can say for now: hard pass on this book. After I'm done ranting my way through this first book, I doubt I'll have enough energy or interest to see what happens next.

***

Note added later: Nope, it didn't get better. A forced love triangle, spelled-out lessons meant for infantile readers, and a saccharine ending were but a few nails in the book's casket. To finish it off, even the author's note at the end was messed up. It added details that she should've conveyed in the book if she had any wherewithal, and she spelled the name of William Perry, Arctic explorer, as "William Parry".

So, do I still give a hard pass to this book? No. I say this book needs ripped from the shelves and burned with the supervision of your local exorcist, at least in my semi-professional opinion. Well done, Ann Aguirre. You've finally gotten me off Rick Yancey's case, as Enclave has taken 5th Wave's place as my official Horrible Book of This Generation.

I'm sure Yancey will appreciate your sacrifice.

No post today

Sorry all, but I'm clocking out for this first half of June. Try to guess the reason why:

A) It slipped my mind;
B) I'm slogging through another YA book that requires every once of optimism to continue;
C) I've been working a lot lately;
D) It's finally nice weather outside;
E) All of the above;
F) None of the above.

Hopefully, I'll tell you the answer in mid-June. Have a great summer!

That Was Quick

I don't know what happened, really.

In January, after I got done with my NaNoWriMo project, I re-edited a couple of older manuscripts I had. Boy oh boy did they need editing; for one of them, I basically stripped it down the the bare skeleton, rearranged the skeleton, and put new stuff back on. A time-intensive process, but hot d*** was it worth it! Those books are a million times better (not to mention a little bit longer) than they were when I cracked them open.

With those major projects behind me, I re-opened my NaNo project after its half-year of stagnation, allowing all the speed-written madness to boil over and become apparent in all its hideousness.

...and I'm done with that round of edits already. Didn't even take me a month. Heck, I shotgunned the last few chapters, it was going so smoothly.

What?

It's kind of nice to have a manuscript go past my critical eye so fast, but that doesn't mean I don't find it weird. Maybe that's the way it is on all my second drafts; I remember going through my earlier manuscripts with a similar speed. Maybe I have (believe it or not) grown as a writer, and my speedwritten stuff has more thought behind it than my earlier works.

However, I think the most likely reason of all is I was editing the NaNo manuscript after I'd gotten done reading my new least favorite YA book in history. In my mind, my first draft was friggin' glowing in comparison. That might have been because I didn't have rape-victim-shaming in my work, and I am more than happy to leave it out.

So, there we go. Now I need to find willing reviewers for my manuscript while I go review something else.

One more thing: with all this editing, coupled to my job of newswriting and the fact I keep writing these posts at the last minute, I'm going to be withdrawing my bi-monthly deadline for this blog. I'll keep posting with book reviews and other interesting writing-related stuff, but at the moment, I'm going to give this particular platform a break. Maybe I'll haunt Twitter more often--until the 2020 elections, when I'm not touching that forum with a 100-foot ethernet cable.

Have a great summer!

Just Rambling

It’s mid-May. Where to begin…

I’m still editing like my life depends on it—which it might, really—but I’ve also picked up another YA dystopian novel I plan to read at some point. I’d never heard of this book before I saw it on the library shelf and it’s not in front of me right now, so I can’t remember the title. It was one of those titles that was meant to easily turn up in a Google search: “The E______”, and that’s all that comes to mind. The Enclave? The Excess? The Extravagance? I’m not sure, but I’ve never had the best memory for names in the first place.

There is a review-blurb for the book that caught my eye, though: “Fans of the Hunger Games will love this.” Heaven help us if authors are mandated to provide the whole, contextualized review with their books, because that blurb smelled a little weird. Plus, after reading the synopsis on the inside cover, I think I already know what the book’s twist is (the mutant creatures to be avoided are impoverished humans, right?).

“But Ben,” I hear you saying because that’s how my superpowers work, “why are you picking up a book you’re all but certain you won’t like?” Answer: because I’m still editing. I need to feel a little better about my own haphazard ramblings, much like the ones you’re reading right here.

OK, the reason is a little less shallow than that. The last time I read a book with too many filler words and adverbs, it inspired me to take a look back at my own work—and rediscover all the filler words and adverbs I was using. Now, though, I need to pray my revisions aren’t being clouded by the Associated Press style I have to use for work.

I do also get pleasantly surprised when I find a dystopian YA novel I like—which makes me want to edit my books more. In conclusion, reading makes me want to edit. I’m going to get right back to that.

Happy May!

An Open Letter to Subnautica: Below Zero" Developers

Dear team-behind-Subnautica-Below-Zero,

Ben Sonnek here, longtime Subnautica fan, currently hooked by the in-development Subnautica Below Zero. Here’s a quick summary of this letter: gushing praise, a couple concerns, and an idea.

Let’s start with the praise.

I’ve enjoyed UnknownWorlds’ survival games since the first Subnautica was still in its beta version. There were no alien bases implemented yet, the Seamoth submarine was a recent invention, and my old laptop could hardly keep up with the graphics so the water looked like a wavy blue quilt. However, my love of sci-fi and aquariums convinced me to buy the game soon after I saw the first ad on Steam, and I haven’t regretted it since, especially after I upgraded laptops and can see the water properly (and the framerate doesn’t plummet when a leviathan is around, an occasion that has led to many Seamoth maulings).

Then the beta for Subnautica Below Zero got released.

Needless to say, I have not regretted that purchase either. Now I have the unique privilege of being with this project from more-or-less the beginning, and I like the game’s look and what I’ve seen of the story so far.

FYI, I’m writing this letter between the Seatruck update and whatever update is slated to come next. Here are some cues as to how far I’ve gotten in the story so far:

Now, Part 2: the concerns.

First, I might ask you to pay all gamers’ PTSD therapy bills once you apply the leviathan-class predators to the game. I’ve seen the concept art.

Second (and last), I wonder about your choice to make Robin speak. (To any other readers not familiar with Subnautica Below Zero, Robin is the character whom you play in the game.)

See, I can’t remember the name of the main character in the first Subnautica game unless I look it up—and I consider that a good thing. That poor unfortunate diver never said anything except for grunts of pain, usually because of those friggin’ Crashfish. I liked that a lot as a player; you could project onto the guy more easily if he said nothing and we supplied the voice lines. You felt like you were him, wincing when the edges of the screen went red from an injury. It was like playing an underwater version of Chell from Portal 2, another of my all-time favorite games.

Robin, while an enjoyable character, has conversations with her sister in an overhead space station. Part of the thrill of the first Subnautica was that the character, a crash survivor, was on his own and with minimal backup. You don’t get that when Robin is making cutesy remarks to her unseen sister. Plus, about those remarks—while the first Subnautica protagonist was project-able with his silence, Robin’s dialogue could rub some players a little weird. I know this is very much an early-development concern; hey, I remember a lot of voice logs changing before the final release of Subnautica 1.0. Still, I’d like to address the issue. A lot of games give the first-person character dialogue, I know, but after using a silent protagonist in the first game…is it a wise choice now?

Maybe. I can’t always oppose a fresh take on something. Subnautica itself was a fresh take on survival games.

However, before Below Zero goes deeper into development—minor pun not intended—I wanted to slide this concept past you first, a concept that mostly maintains everything Below Zero has set up so far:

What if we players were Alan, the alien AI?

(Again, for those of you not familiar with Below Zero and didn’t read that PDA screenshot up there, Robin accidentally downloads an alien AI into her head in the game. The AI’s seed code is Al-An, so Robin calls it Alan.)

Anyway, here’s the picture: the game starts with the black screen and the “Unknown Worlds presents” text, like the first Subnautica. Unlike the first Subnautica, though, the sound you hear with the black screen is not the sound of an exploding spaceship. It’s the sound of an alien computer booting up.

The screen fades in, revealing the inside of an alien facility. The player can’t move, but instead watches Robin enter and activate the console. BAM—and the player can see from Robin’s perspective. We can move around as her. We can also hear her dialogue, freaking out over how she can control her mind and mouth…but not her muscles.

The player, playing as the downloaded alien AI, has taken those over. We become an AI that has control of a human host.

Think about it: the AI could have no memory of itself or its functions, like the player. It would also know nothing of Robin, again like the player. The AI and Robin would have to work together to solve the mystery of this section of Planet 4546B, learning more about each other while not alerting Alterra that one of their own is being controlled by alien tech. This way, Robin can keep her dialogue while not contradicting whatever the players are thinking. As the silent AI, we’re free to roll our eyes, laugh, and/or give the thumbs-up, not jolt out of character because Robin said something quippy when her controlling gamer would rather hide in a snowbank. If the AI has no lines, we players will naturally add our own, like we do in the first Subnautica.

The aliens couldn’t communicate in human language in the first game, and I was a little wary about their technology’s voice lines in Below Zero’s early release. Don’t get me wrong, they sound awesome, but I felt a little of the alien mystique was lost with their first words to humans. If the player were a silent AI, the mystique remains, and part of the story could be Robin figuring out how to converse with the alien being possessing the majority of her motor functions.

As a final point, I think the player-as-Alan angle would add a unique tension to the game. As the AI, players cannot explain themselves to the host and will sympathize with her unique plight. When diving into harm’s way, it will be like driving your best friend’s car through a demolition derby; you don’t want to hurt yourself or your friend. You have to pray that, as the story goes, Robin trusts your actions more, maybe moving into the relationship of grudging friendship—although that won’t stop her from strongly questioning your sanity when you have to dive into deeper, darker regions of the sea. Maybe the gameplay can give the AI-player and Robin a chance to communicate through, I don’t know, computer prompts or something. The twists write themselves: the player learns about Robin through voice lines and data logs—while also learning about the AI host’s history. Maybe the possessing alien program was decommissioned and memory-wiped for mismanaging the disease from the first Subnautica story, or something like that.

Then, the ending! As a semi-reversal of the first Subnautica, in which the player left via rocket, the player-AI in Below Zero could leave Robin and allow her to escape in a rocket on her own, watching the smoke trail leave the planet’s atmosphere.

Anyway, that’s my idea, and I think it has plenty of room for an Unknown Worlds spin that will blow everyone’s mind. Take it or leave it; I won’t be heartbroken if Below Zero’s plans are set in stone already. Looking at Subnautica 1.0, I have no cause to worry about 2.0’s trajectory. To wrap it up here, keep up the good work. To inspire you, here’s one of my most encouraging Subnautica screenshots of all time:

No! Wait! I meant this one. My bad.

Whether or not you read this…thanks for everything!

(Note from a few days later: Forget the thanks. The Snowfox update just came out, and...how many nightmares did you guys have to harvest to make the Chelicerate leviathan? Really???)