Scan barcode
A review by avecruthie
The Novelist by Jordan Castro
1.0
If there was a possibility to 0 star, I would. There’s no way to give spoilers for this book because absolutely nothing happens.
Rating: 1
Did I actually finish reading this book just so I could give it a bad review? Hell yes, I did. And let me tell you, "The Novelist" by Jordan Castro left me questioning my life choices.
First things first, the narrator isn't even Jordan Castro. We have this unnamed author who used to be a heroin addict, is now in recovery, lives with his girlfriend and dog, and has a serious case of chronic procrastination.
I will admit, though, the author does have some insightful moments. His analysis of social media and the whole struggle of wanting to unfollow someone but fearing the judgment of others hit close to home. It reminded me of my own struggle before I finally decided to say "screw it" and detach myself from the social media circus.
But let's talk about the plot, or rather, the lack thereof. Seriously, it's a whole lot of nothing happening. This book is basically just the author procrastinating on writing his own novel. I mean, I get it, we all procrastinate, but did I really need a whole book dedicated to someone else's procrastination? No, thank you.
And then we have these random rants about the most oddly specific things. "Why do you like Jordan Castro?" and "pee" are just a couple of the mind-numbing topics we get to explore. But wait, it gets even better. The narrator goes off on a tangent about feces and his wiping techniques. I kid you not, I was desperately searching for any semblance of meaning or relevance to the plot, and surprise, surprise, it was nowhere to be found.
Here's a piece of wisdom: self-praise is no praise. Why is the narrator going on and on about how amazing Jordan Castro is? Dude, I don't even know you! It's like he's desperately trying to convince us that this book is worth reading, when in reality, it's just a jumbled mess.
This is the kind of book you write when you've been in the game for 10-15 years, not for your debut. All I wanted was for him to sit down and actually write the damn novel or shut up about it.
I would honestly rather subject myself to reading a physics textbook than endure this book again. At least with physics, there's some tangible knowledge to gain. With "The Novelist," all I gained was a seething frustration and a strong desire to burn the pages.
One thing that might have made this book marginally better is if the narrator didn't obsessively use himself as the author. Maybe if it were a popular or even a fictional author, it would have been easier to relate to. As it stands, this book made me absolutely despise Jordan Castro.
Oh, and one more thing—did the author just learn the word "nihilist"? Because it feels like he mentions it every other page. We get it, life is meaningless and all that jazz. Now can we please move on?
Rating: 1
Did I actually finish reading this book just so I could give it a bad review? Hell yes, I did. And let me tell you, "The Novelist" by Jordan Castro left me questioning my life choices.
First things first, the narrator isn't even Jordan Castro. We have this unnamed author who used to be a heroin addict, is now in recovery, lives with his girlfriend and dog, and has a serious case of chronic procrastination.
I will admit, though, the author does have some insightful moments. His analysis of social media and the whole struggle of wanting to unfollow someone but fearing the judgment of others hit close to home. It reminded me of my own struggle before I finally decided to say "screw it" and detach myself from the social media circus.
But let's talk about the plot, or rather, the lack thereof. Seriously, it's a whole lot of nothing happening. This book is basically just the author procrastinating on writing his own novel. I mean, I get it, we all procrastinate, but did I really need a whole book dedicated to someone else's procrastination? No, thank you.
And then we have these random rants about the most oddly specific things. "Why do you like Jordan Castro?" and "pee" are just a couple of the mind-numbing topics we get to explore. But wait, it gets even better. The narrator goes off on a tangent about feces and his wiping techniques. I kid you not, I was desperately searching for any semblance of meaning or relevance to the plot, and surprise, surprise, it was nowhere to be found.
Here's a piece of wisdom: self-praise is no praise. Why is the narrator going on and on about how amazing Jordan Castro is? Dude, I don't even know you! It's like he's desperately trying to convince us that this book is worth reading, when in reality, it's just a jumbled mess.
This is the kind of book you write when you've been in the game for 10-15 years, not for your debut. All I wanted was for him to sit down and actually write the damn novel or shut up about it.
I would honestly rather subject myself to reading a physics textbook than endure this book again. At least with physics, there's some tangible knowledge to gain. With "The Novelist," all I gained was a seething frustration and a strong desire to burn the pages.
One thing that might have made this book marginally better is if the narrator didn't obsessively use himself as the author. Maybe if it were a popular or even a fictional author, it would have been easier to relate to. As it stands, this book made me absolutely despise Jordan Castro.
Oh, and one more thing—did the author just learn the word "nihilist"? Because it feels like he mentions it every other page. We get it, life is meaningless and all that jazz. Now can we please move on?