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orionmerlin 's review for:
Gone
by Michael Grant
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Characters – 5/10
Sam Temple is the kind of protagonist who desperately wants to be "reluctant hero with a mysterious past," but comes off more like a discount Harry Potter with surfer hair and daddy issues. Astrid the Genius? She has the emotional warmth of a TI-84 calculator and spends most of the book fluctuating between smug intellect and paper-thin maternal instincts. Quinn is the classic “best friend turned jealous jerk,” and I wanted to throttle him every time he opened his mouth. The problem is that so many of these kids are archetypes, not actual people. You’ve got the token Good Girl, the Token Thug, the Token Latino Sidekick (Edilio deserved so much better), and then Caine, the cliché prep-school villain who’s as subtle as a Bond bad guy with a cat. The only ones who feel remotely human are the secondary characters like Mary—probably because she actually breaks down in a believable way instead of trying to form a makeshift government 30 seconds into societal collapse.
Sam Temple is the kind of protagonist who desperately wants to be "reluctant hero with a mysterious past," but comes off more like a discount Harry Potter with surfer hair and daddy issues. Astrid the Genius? She has the emotional warmth of a TI-84 calculator and spends most of the book fluctuating between smug intellect and paper-thin maternal instincts. Quinn is the classic “best friend turned jealous jerk,” and I wanted to throttle him every time he opened his mouth. The problem is that so many of these kids are archetypes, not actual people. You’ve got the token Good Girl, the Token Thug, the Token Latino Sidekick (Edilio deserved so much better), and then Caine, the cliché prep-school villain who’s as subtle as a Bond bad guy with a cat. The only ones who feel remotely human are the secondary characters like Mary—probably because she actually breaks down in a believable way instead of trying to form a makeshift government 30 seconds into societal collapse.
Atmosphere/Setting – 7.5/10
Yes, the FAYZ is spooky. The silence, the vanished adults, the weird dome—it has potential. But the vibe wears thin fast when everything starts feeling like a set piece from a CW show. Perdido Beach has the bones of a great apocalyptic setting, but Grant doesn’t do much with the claustrophobia. There’s not enough focus on the erosion of normalcy—the rotting food, the sanitation, the way trauma should be kicking in—and far too much emphasis on dramatic stand-offs in schoolyards and stolen McDonald’s cheeseburgers. Also: the creepy factor gets completely undermined the moment mutant animals start showing up like it's an episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Fallout.
Yes, the FAYZ is spooky. The silence, the vanished adults, the weird dome—it has potential. But the vibe wears thin fast when everything starts feeling like a set piece from a CW show. Perdido Beach has the bones of a great apocalyptic setting, but Grant doesn’t do much with the claustrophobia. There’s not enough focus on the erosion of normalcy—the rotting food, the sanitation, the way trauma should be kicking in—and far too much emphasis on dramatic stand-offs in schoolyards and stolen McDonald’s cheeseburgers. Also: the creepy factor gets completely undermined the moment mutant animals start showing up like it's an episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Fallout.
Writing Style – 5.5/10
This prose is functional at best and painfully clunky at worst. Michael Grant writes like he’s afraid you’ll get bored if he doesn’t inject adrenaline into every other sentence, so nuance is out the window. Dialogue is laughably uneven—one moment you’ve got kids quoting Roosevelt, the next they’re back to yelling “brah” like a low-budget Nickelodeon sketch. And don’t even try to find subtext: everything is said out loud, then reiterated, then usually over-explained. It’s exposition with a megaphone. He’s great at pacing, but pacing alone doesn’t carry a story when your characters talk like bots who just learned how teens speak from TikTok.
This prose is functional at best and painfully clunky at worst. Michael Grant writes like he’s afraid you’ll get bored if he doesn’t inject adrenaline into every other sentence, so nuance is out the window. Dialogue is laughably uneven—one moment you’ve got kids quoting Roosevelt, the next they’re back to yelling “brah” like a low-budget Nickelodeon sketch. And don’t even try to find subtext: everything is said out loud, then reiterated, then usually over-explained. It’s exposition with a megaphone. He’s great at pacing, but pacing alone doesn’t carry a story when your characters talk like bots who just learned how teens speak from TikTok.
Plot – 6.5/10
This book is basically Lord of the Flies meets X-Men fanfiction—with none of the subtlety or thematic weight of either. The idea is strong: everyone over 14 disappears, chaos ensues, powers emerge, factions form. I was totally in for that ride. But it quickly turns into melodrama. You’ve got the One Good Boy with the Light Power, the Evil Twin (yes, literally), the Baby Who Might Be God, and a coyote whisperer. By the time a five-year-old girl is spewing flames and a talking pack of animals joins the cast, I felt like I was reading two different books duct-taped together. Also: the stakes feel manufactured. Every major plot twist feels like it was rolled out of a drama vending machine. There are glimpses of brilliance, but it’s buried under layers of “Wouldn’t it be cool if...?”
This book is basically Lord of the Flies meets X-Men fanfiction—with none of the subtlety or thematic weight of either. The idea is strong: everyone over 14 disappears, chaos ensues, powers emerge, factions form. I was totally in for that ride. But it quickly turns into melodrama. You’ve got the One Good Boy with the Light Power, the Evil Twin (yes, literally), the Baby Who Might Be God, and a coyote whisperer. By the time a five-year-old girl is spewing flames and a talking pack of animals joins the cast, I felt like I was reading two different books duct-taped together. Also: the stakes feel manufactured. Every major plot twist feels like it was rolled out of a drama vending machine. There are glimpses of brilliance, but it’s buried under layers of “Wouldn’t it be cool if...?”
Intrigue – 6/10
Yes, I kept turning the pages—but the entire time I felt like I was being manipulated. Grant structures the story like a thrill ride, and sure, I wanted to see how far off the rails it could go. But the mystery of the FAYZ, while tantalizing at first, wears thin fast when it's dragged out across 500+ pages and no one is any closer to a clue. He dangles breadcrumbs and then gets distracted by who’s hoarding food or trying to take over the McDonald’s. Eventually, I was reading more out of obligation than excitement, like finishing a wild reality show just to see who gets booted next.
Yes, I kept turning the pages—but the entire time I felt like I was being manipulated. Grant structures the story like a thrill ride, and sure, I wanted to see how far off the rails it could go. But the mystery of the FAYZ, while tantalizing at first, wears thin fast when it's dragged out across 500+ pages and no one is any closer to a clue. He dangles breadcrumbs and then gets distracted by who’s hoarding food or trying to take over the McDonald’s. Eventually, I was reading more out of obligation than excitement, like finishing a wild reality show just to see who gets booted next.
Logic/Relationships – 4.5/10
Here’s where things really fall apart. The social dynamics in Gone are laughably simplistic. The second the adults vanish, everyone’s suddenly building proto-governments and talking like post-apocalyptic diplomats. Sorry, but these are children. Where’s the breakdown, the true panic, the aimless wandering, the realistic mess of people trying to survive? And don’t tell me these kids have time for meaningful emotional arcs while also running childcare centers, forming police squads, and manifesting magical powers. The rules of the world are sketchy at best. Why do some kids get powers? What are the limits? Why does the barrier even exist? Is it science fiction, magic, or just plot convenience wearing a trench coat?
Here’s where things really fall apart. The social dynamics in Gone are laughably simplistic. The second the adults vanish, everyone’s suddenly building proto-governments and talking like post-apocalyptic diplomats. Sorry, but these are children. Where’s the breakdown, the true panic, the aimless wandering, the realistic mess of people trying to survive? And don’t tell me these kids have time for meaningful emotional arcs while also running childcare centers, forming police squads, and manifesting magical powers. The rules of the world are sketchy at best. Why do some kids get powers? What are the limits? Why does the barrier even exist? Is it science fiction, magic, or just plot convenience wearing a trench coat?
Enjoyment – 6.5/10
Did I enjoy Gone? In the same way I enjoy a bag of flaming hot chips at midnight: I devoured it quickly, got heartburn, and immediately questioned my life choices. It’s absurd, overstuffed, and often infuriating, but there’s something undeniably readable about it. I wouldn’t call it good, but I wouldn’t call it boring either. It’s like junk food for your dystopian brain. I’ll probably read the next one. But only to see how much weirder this fever dream can get.
Did I enjoy Gone? In the same way I enjoy a bag of flaming hot chips at midnight: I devoured it quickly, got heartburn, and immediately questioned my life choices. It’s absurd, overstuffed, and often infuriating, but there’s something undeniably readable about it. I wouldn’t call it good, but I wouldn’t call it boring either. It’s like junk food for your dystopian brain. I’ll probably read the next one. But only to see how much weirder this fever dream can get.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gore, Torture, Violence, Blood, Murder, Fire/Fire injury
Moderate: Bullying, Child death, Death, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Toxic relationship, Grief, Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Cursing, Misogyny, Vomit, Car accident, Alcohol, Sexual harassment
This book deals with themes of survival, power struggles, and moral dilemmas in a world without adults. It features intense and sometimes disturbing violence, and younger readers or those sensitive to distressing content should be cautious. The story does not shy away from the cruelty and brutality of unchecked power, making it darker than many typical YA dystopian novels.