I really wanted to like this book. I liked the premise, and it sounded fun.
And I suppose that the plot, or the little there was of it, wasn't bad. It could even have been fun. It was certainly original enough (for the genre, where there is little that is truly original these days), and sometimes, just sometimes, the jokes were actually funny.
It's the writing that bothered me. That's the trouble with deciding to write a book in a style where the narrator adds constant
, um, witty
asides, addressing the reader, throwing in such witty
comments in about every second paragraph (or more): it can either be wildly amusing or intensely irritating.
In my case, it was the latter. Perhaps it's because I'm a cranky middle-aged woman with no sense of humour, or perhaps it's because it was just extremely annoying. I'm going with the latter. (And please, someone punch me in the face if I ever forget how irritated I was about the writing style and at some point decide to read more in this series, just because the premise was pretty cool.)