Showing posts with label Brian Yansky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brian Yansky. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Utopia, Iowa by Brian Yansky


Title: Utopia, Iowa
Author: Brian Yansky
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Rating: WARTY!

I went to Iowa once. There's nothing there. Funnily enough, I had the same experience with this novel! My first mistake was in failing to notice that the main character's name was Jack. I've sworn-off reading any more novels which feature someone with that name as a main character. The name is so clichéd as to be pathetic and I denounce all writers who resort to this tired and threadbare trope.

Seriously, how many young adults do you know or have ever even heard of who are named Jack? I know there must be some out there, but nowhere near enough to merit the bizarre prevalence given to this name in stories, particularly adventure stories. Any writer who is so lazy and/or unimaginative and/or clueless enough that they employ this name deserves to be completely ignored! This novel proves it!

I read the blurb (not nearly closely enough as it happened) on my library's website, and it sounded interesting, so I clicked on the library's hold feature and eventually picked it up. That's when I discovered that it's a first person PoV story, which is another huge no-no for me.

1PoVs are routinely impractical, often nonsensical, and typically self-limiting in everything except the main character's own sense of self-importance, that they're honestly not worth reading. Once in a while a writer comes along who can make one work. Those are the very rare exceptions which test the rule.

That said, I had the book in hand and was tired of the previous volume I'd been reading, so I thought, "What the hell; let's give it a go!" I made it to the end of chapter one before I had to call the doctor for a fresh prescription of promethazine, my nausea was so high. This guy - the main character - I refuse to use his name - is supposedly a screen-writer wannabe who, I've noted in the reviews of others, shows absolutely no interest in actually writing a screenplay. Nothing new there.

The closest he gets to it is larding-up his self-obsessed memoir with brief movie references (title, writer, stars). Every. Single. Time. He. Mentions A. Movie - or part of a scene from one. Yeah, just like that. After the second one of these I'd reached my maximal satiation point and was looking for a vomitorium so I could purge. The first of these references is at the beginning of his second paragraph the last of them is on the penultimate page of the novel, so you know the whole thing is completely clogged with these pointless references.

It's a big mistake for a writer to think his readers have coincident interests with himself and/or will thank him profusely for bloating his novel with his own personal passions, pastimes and pursuits. It's because of all these things and the writing style that I cannot recommend this, but again I read only chapter one, although that was more than enough to put me off this writer permanently. You may get to chapter two or beyond and decide you love it. Good luck with that.