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orionmerlin 's review for:
Fear
by Michael Grant
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Characters: 6/10
Look, I’ve cared about these kids for four books now, but Fear makes me feel like Grant’s just juggling action figures and occasionally bashing them together to see who breaks first. Sam is stuck in his never-ending loop of “I’m the leader but I don’t wanna be” like a broken record playing in a hurricane. Astrid has gone full edge-lord, drowning in guilt and faux-philosophical self-flagellation — which would be interesting if it didn’t feel like it was recycled three times per chapter. Diana’s pregnant mutant fetus is more plot device than character development. Penny is a cartoon villain with a paintball gun full of trauma and no real depth. Even Little Pete — who’s supposed to be this transcendental mind-entity now — feels more like a convenient deus ex plot twist than an actual character. I didn’t stop caring entirely, but I did start rooting for the apocalypse just to cut the cast in half.
Look, I’ve cared about these kids for four books now, but Fear makes me feel like Grant’s just juggling action figures and occasionally bashing them together to see who breaks first. Sam is stuck in his never-ending loop of “I’m the leader but I don’t wanna be” like a broken record playing in a hurricane. Astrid has gone full edge-lord, drowning in guilt and faux-philosophical self-flagellation — which would be interesting if it didn’t feel like it was recycled three times per chapter. Diana’s pregnant mutant fetus is more plot device than character development. Penny is a cartoon villain with a paintball gun full of trauma and no real depth. Even Little Pete — who’s supposed to be this transcendental mind-entity now — feels more like a convenient deus ex plot twist than an actual character. I didn’t stop caring entirely, but I did start rooting for the apocalypse just to cut the cast in half.
Atmosphere/Setting: 7/10
The FAYZ has always been a mood, but by book five, that mood is starting to feel a little tired. Yes, the dome turning black is a cool idea — but it’s a cool idea that just sits there. “Darkness is coming.” Yeah, so is my next eye roll. The horror element still slaps at times (I will never unsee the girl-coyote chimera, thanks for that), but the rest feels like retreading old ground. Everything’s either burning, dying, mutating, or philosophizing. It’s immersive, but it’s also exhausting — and not in the good “emotional wreck” way. More like, “oh cool, another radioactive horror-monster… yawn.”
The FAYZ has always been a mood, but by book five, that mood is starting to feel a little tired. Yes, the dome turning black is a cool idea — but it’s a cool idea that just sits there. “Darkness is coming.” Yeah, so is my next eye roll. The horror element still slaps at times (I will never unsee the girl-coyote chimera, thanks for that), but the rest feels like retreading old ground. Everything’s either burning, dying, mutating, or philosophizing. It’s immersive, but it’s also exhausting — and not in the good “emotional wreck” way. More like, “oh cool, another radioactive horror-monster… yawn.”
Writing Style: 5/10
The prose feels like it’s having an identity crisis. On one page, it’s breakneck action with short, punchy sentences. On the next, it’s trying to wax poetic about guilt, morality, or whether God’s on vacation. The result? A book that doesn’t know whether it wants to be Lord of the Flies or The Matrix — and ends up feeling like an edgy CW show with delusions of literary grandeur. Dialogue veers wildly between sharp and cringey. There’s still something addicting about the pacing and structure, but stylistically? It’s trying too hard, and it shows.
The prose feels like it’s having an identity crisis. On one page, it’s breakneck action with short, punchy sentences. On the next, it’s trying to wax poetic about guilt, morality, or whether God’s on vacation. The result? A book that doesn’t know whether it wants to be Lord of the Flies or The Matrix — and ends up feeling like an edgy CW show with delusions of literary grandeur. Dialogue veers wildly between sharp and cringey. There’s still something addicting about the pacing and structure, but stylistically? It’s trying too hard, and it shows.
Plot: 6.5/10
Big ideas, sloppy execution. The stain on the dome is a great metaphor for creeping dread, but the book spends so much time telling me how scary it is instead of doing anything with it. Most of the plot revolves around setting up the finale (Light), which means we’re stuck with a whole lot of filler: Sam brooding. Astrid hiking. Diana nesting. Quinn pouting. Caine pretending to be Macbeth. And a literal mutant baby growing ominously in the background like Chekhov’s fetus. There are strong moments — the Cigar/Penny horror show, the booby-trapped missile containers — but they’re buried under way too much wheel-spinning and moral posturing. It's all build-up, no climax.
Big ideas, sloppy execution. The stain on the dome is a great metaphor for creeping dread, but the book spends so much time telling me how scary it is instead of doing anything with it. Most of the plot revolves around setting up the finale (Light), which means we’re stuck with a whole lot of filler: Sam brooding. Astrid hiking. Diana nesting. Quinn pouting. Caine pretending to be Macbeth. And a literal mutant baby growing ominously in the background like Chekhov’s fetus. There are strong moments — the Cigar/Penny horror show, the booby-trapped missile containers — but they’re buried under way too much wheel-spinning and moral posturing. It's all build-up, no climax.
Intrigue: 7/10
Was I curious about what the hell the black stain was? Sure. Did I stay up late trying to finish the book? Kind of. But I was also annoyed the whole time. Because Fear knows it’s stalling. The dome isn’t going black for another book. Drake doesn’t actually do anything this time. The mutant baby? Still baking. It’s all almost something, but not quite. Like, I’m here for the ride, but I’m tapping the “hurry up” button like I’m stuck in the world’s worst Uber.
Was I curious about what the hell the black stain was? Sure. Did I stay up late trying to finish the book? Kind of. But I was also annoyed the whole time. Because Fear knows it’s stalling. The dome isn’t going black for another book. Drake doesn’t actually do anything this time. The mutant baby? Still baking. It’s all almost something, but not quite. Like, I’m here for the ride, but I’m tapping the “hurry up” button like I’m stuck in the world’s worst Uber.
Logic/Relationships: 5/10
Why does Penny still exist? Why is Diana still allowed near anyone’s uterus? Why are the rules of the FAYZ changing at the exact moment the plot needs them to, and not one second earlier? Logic in Fear is like a vending machine that gives you the wrong snack, but you’re too hungry to complain. Relationships feel like they’re being yanked around by the plot. Sam and Astrid’s reunion is less “emotional breakthrough” and more “conveniently timed makeout sesh.” Caine is a melodramatic Bond villain in exile. Even the power dynamics — between Albert, Sam, and Caine — feel hollow. Nobody’s actions align with long-term goals. They’re just reacting to whatever trauma Grant throws at them next.
Why does Penny still exist? Why is Diana still allowed near anyone’s uterus? Why are the rules of the FAYZ changing at the exact moment the plot needs them to, and not one second earlier? Logic in Fear is like a vending machine that gives you the wrong snack, but you’re too hungry to complain. Relationships feel like they’re being yanked around by the plot. Sam and Astrid’s reunion is less “emotional breakthrough” and more “conveniently timed makeout sesh.” Caine is a melodramatic Bond villain in exile. Even the power dynamics — between Albert, Sam, and Caine — feel hollow. Nobody’s actions align with long-term goals. They’re just reacting to whatever trauma Grant throws at them next.
Enjoyment: 6.5/10
Did I like it? Sort of. Do I regret reading it? No. But Fear feels like a mandatory stop on the road to the actual finale. It’s the penultimate season of a TV show that’s just waiting for the cancellation notice. The stakes are technically high, but the tension is stretched so thin it’s practically see-through. The best thing I can say is: this book made me hungry for the end. I wanted resolution. I wanted catharsis. I wanted something other than another metaphorical doomsday staring ominously at the sky.
Did I like it? Sort of. Do I regret reading it? No. But Fear feels like a mandatory stop on the road to the actual finale. It’s the penultimate season of a TV show that’s just waiting for the cancellation notice. The stakes are technically high, but the tension is stretched so thin it’s practically see-through. The best thing I can say is: this book made me hungry for the end. I wanted resolution. I wanted catharsis. I wanted something other than another metaphorical doomsday staring ominously at the sky.
In short: Fear is the literary equivalent of foreplay that goes on too long and forgets to deliver. There’s potential here — and a lot of smart ideas — but they’re buried under a layer of self-importance and plot bloating that makes me want to scream “get on with it!” into the dome.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Gore, Torture, Violence, Murder
Moderate: Bullying, Child death, Confinement, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Mental illness, Toxic relationship, Blood, Pregnancy, Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Cursing, Panic attacks/disorders, Self harm, Sexism, Grief, Alcohol
This book leans heavily into horror elements, particularly in its use of body horror, psychological torment, and extreme violence.
The series as a whole deals with themes of power, survival, morality, and the breakdown of society, often in disturbing ways.
Penny’s character and her methods of psychological torture are particularly unsettling—this book does not shy away from cruelty and sadism.
While pregnancy is a significant plot point, it’s not depicted in a positive or nurturing way; instead, it leans into fear, body autonomy issues, and existential dread.