I was looking around for alpha readers for the first third (or so) of my book. When I mentioned it to one of my acquaintances, he asked if I had read Dungeon Crawler Carl. Not only had I not read it, I’d never heard of it.
Lo, these many weeks later, I’m in a bookstore to buy a t-shirt (don’t ask) and what do I see on an end-cap but Dungeon Crawler Carl. It has New York Times Bestseller plastered all over it. I would normally take that as a sign to run as fast as I can in the other direction, but… It was recommended and it’s the genre I’m writing in. I bought my first paperback in years. (And it’s very strange to physically turn pages, now.)
It’s not good. It’s not even sort-of good. If I had downloaded it from Kindle Unlimited, I would have returned it by now. I’ve made it to page 35. Since I paid $25, which is about 80 books on KU, for it, I’ll finish it, eventually, but I’m in no rush.
It’s in first-person. To be fair, first-person is really hard to write well. Here’s a tip: Your characters should never address the reader. You, the author, can address the reader. Your characters cannot. Book meet wall.
It info-dumps. It info-dumps via dialog, but that is still an info-dump. Here’s a tip: Show, don’t tell. Having another character explain things is not “showing”. Actually, since it’s happening via dialog, it’s almost “telling” by definition. Book meet wall.
I should have known better. I already know that everything the New York Times says is a lie. On the bright side, if the guy who recommended it liked that, my book stands a decent chance of getting postive alpha-reader feedback. On the not so bright side, I’m not sure I can trust said feedback.
Have I read worse Indie books? Most definitely. Did I pay $25 for the privilege? Hell no.
Off to finish off Chapter 7. Our intrepid heroes are fighting a chupacabra and my sentences are too long. Fights are fast. Descriptions need to read fast. Short sentences work. They’re hard to write. Subordinate clauses sneak in. They must be banished (before they become cumbersome, leading the reader into peripheral details, which detract from the speed of the fight; we can’t have that).
Marked Up 