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I tried to read The Time Traveler's Wife on the bus yesterday and had a very bad time of it. The basic conceit is that the protagonist is subject to uncontrolled time travel episodes caused by a genetic condition. This combines fake science and a classic science fiction trope, so I should be all over this. Unfortunately, it's written in first person present tense, switching between Henry and Claire (time traveler and wife), and the author decided that she would indicate who was speaking by prefacing each section with the person's name. Thus, chapter one:
I didn't make it out of the prologue, which was more of the same, and also spent a lot of time on Claire's breasts and Henry's longing for The Simple Life (tm) (possibly AKA Claire's breasts) so the book lost me within two pages. The first chapter is actually less awful than the prologue, but not so not-awful I feel the need to finish it, or the rest of the book.
This book doesn't work for me for a couple of reasons. The first person present tense feels pretentious as sin (less bad angst in the prologue, and I might have been sold). It can be done - I freaking loved Shabanu when I was a kid - but it should be used judiciously and not just because you're writing a time travel novel, look how edgy and "all times are now" you the author can be. Second, I am insulted when the author thinks I can't do math and includes it in the chapter headings. Either age is important and the author in-clued in the text or it's not that important and I can do the math later if I really care.
I didn't chuck this against a wall, first because it's a loaner from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
samthereaderman and second because I was at a bus stop and undersupplied with handy walls, as well as other bus reading. However, it was a close call on my desire to do a little experimenting with a fat trade paperback, several lanes of traffic, and a dirty snowbank. This is the sort of experience where listening to "The Real Slim Shady" is about the right counter for your foray into least common denominator popular fiction, and that's why I have a rap station bouncing on Pandora. I like my least common denominator in different forms than fiction.
P. S. Kanye West is asking how could you be so heartless now. Kanye, if only you knew.
FIRST DATE, ONE
Saturday, October 26, 1991 (Henry is 28, Claire is 20)
CLAIRE: blah blah blah in first person present tense blah blah blah
HENRY: blah blah blah more first person present tense blah blah blah
I didn't make it out of the prologue, which was more of the same, and also spent a lot of time on Claire's breasts and Henry's longing for The Simple Life (tm) (possibly AKA Claire's breasts) so the book lost me within two pages. The first chapter is actually less awful than the prologue, but not so not-awful I feel the need to finish it, or the rest of the book.
This book doesn't work for me for a couple of reasons. The first person present tense feels pretentious as sin (less bad angst in the prologue, and I might have been sold). It can be done - I freaking loved Shabanu when I was a kid - but it should be used judiciously and not just because you're writing a time travel novel, look how edgy and "all times are now" you the author can be. Second, I am insulted when the author thinks I can't do math and includes it in the chapter headings. Either age is important and the author in-clued in the text or it's not that important and I can do the math later if I really care.
I didn't chuck this against a wall, first because it's a loaner from
samthereaderman and second because I was at a bus stop and undersupplied with handy walls, as well as other bus reading. However, it was a close call on my desire to do a little experimenting with a fat trade paperback, several lanes of traffic, and a dirty snowbank. This is the sort of experience where listening to "The Real Slim Shady" is about the right counter for your foray into least common denominator popular fiction, and that's why I have a rap station bouncing on Pandora. I like my least common denominator in different forms than fiction.P. S. Kanye West is asking how could you be so heartless now. Kanye, if only you knew.
