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A review by poultrymunitions
Scardust by Suzanne van Rooyen
stay cool, julio. stay cool.
this book really upset me, but after aggressively slurping a cuppa tay, i was sufficiently calm enough to work out why.
the things that killed me in the face are mostly things that only appear to plague people who spend all day nerding-out about colloquial syntax and raging about people who use the word whack (to strike) when they really mean wack (to be inferior).
in other words, most of you won't be driven to distraction by what made my eyes bleed up in hurr, so who am i helping by listing all thirty of my ragey notes through 33 percent?
nobody, that's who.
so i decided not to chop this book up.
you know. with the embarrassing quotes and the vicious gifs and whatnot.
suffice to say that i found the premise and plot interesting; raleigh's decision-making conveniently stupid; the sex work issue awkwardly handled and needlessly demonized; the similes tortured and nonsensical; the side characters promisingly multidimensional; the barely subtle fat-shaming completely unnecessary; the language bizarrely puritanical, even with liberal use of the aforementioned deranged similes.
again—mostly things that annoy me disproportionately.
so i figure—hear me out, here—if you like the sound of that blurb, you should hunnet puhcent check this bad-boy out.
because i seriously doubta ten minute image processing scene complete with a progress bar in the year 2037 despite google reverse image search being able to tell you where a picture came from in .2 seconds since at least 2012 will drive you anywhere near as insane as it did me.
because i am crazy, and i NO CAN.
but you? you are not crazy.
you are nice.
godspeed, friends!
this book really upset me, but after aggressively slurping a cuppa tay, i was sufficiently calm enough to work out why.
the things that killed me in the face are mostly things that only appear to plague people who spend all day nerding-out about colloquial syntax and raging about people who use the word whack (to strike) when they really mean wack (to be inferior).
in other words, most of you won't be driven to distraction by what made my eyes bleed up in hurr, so who am i helping by listing all thirty of my ragey notes through 33 percent?
nobody, that's who.
so i decided not to chop this book up.
you know. with the embarrassing quotes and the vicious gifs and whatnot.
suffice to say that i found the premise and plot interesting; raleigh's decision-making conveniently stupid; the sex work issue awkwardly handled and needlessly demonized; the similes tortured and nonsensical; the side characters promisingly multidimensional; the barely subtle fat-shaming completely unnecessary; the language bizarrely puritanical, even with liberal use of the aforementioned deranged similes.
again—mostly things that annoy me disproportionately.
so i figure—hear me out, here—if you like the sound of that blurb, you should hunnet puhcent check this bad-boy out.
because i seriously doubt
because i am crazy, and i NO CAN.
but you? you are not crazy.
you are nice.
godspeed, friends!