No wonder the literary world is polluted with so many shitty writers. They see how well this fucking hack has sold, read his work, and aspire to fucking mediocrity. James Patterson outsells Pulitzer-Prize winning authors, but his writing (I refuse to call this bullshit “prose”) is barely one step above motherfucking picture books. He’s detrimental to the literate world. Authors and readers alike think this shit is okay. Do you see how many five-star reviews there are on this time sink? Authors and reader I respect have given this broken-ass novel their highest recommendation, and Patterson doesn’t even follow basic fucking grammar rules. I know these authors and readers of whom I speak are not stupid. I know that to be fact. Yet they loved this book. Why is that? Why, motherfuckers, why?
There is a difference between having an opinion and being fucking wrong. If you are flat out wrong, I have every right to argue with you. If your stance is based on opinion, I cannot. I understand that opinions are subjective. “I don’t like The Hobbitbecause little people with hairy feet going on adventures are so annoying! #harrypotterhavemybaby #fuckLOTR” I can dig it. That’s your opinion. You don’t like motherfuckers with hairy feet going on adventures. Rock on. I can’t argue that. But when you say that this bucket of vague antecedents, passive voice, and dangling participles is well-written, I gotta wonder whether or not you should be allowed to drive a motor vehicle. Well-written? Go fuck yourself.
And that’s only how I feel about the writing. Now I’m going to tell you why the plot to this disaster-piece makes it an even more inedible shit sandwich.
Spoilers from here on out. You’ve been warned.
There’s this cockknocker named Gary Soneji/Murphy who wants to be bigger than the motherfucker that kidnapped Lindbergh’s baby. He wants to be a serial kidnapper. He’s already a very successful serial murderer. So, having completed that life goal, he wants to get on that next-level shit – kidnapping. Killing doesn’t get a motherfucker paid, and he’s broke. So he steals two little rich fuckers (a boy and a girl) from their haughty-taughty little-rich-fuckers academy and drops them in a hole. (If you’re already tired of my gratuitous use of the F-word and various vulgarisms, you might wanna click away now because it’s only gonna get worse.) This supposedly brilliant motherfucker fucking injects the littlest motherfucker with too much Michael Jackson Jesus Juice and the littlest motherfucker dies. This brilliant carnival-level cock-swallower gets all mad, beats and ass-rapes little dude’s corpse. You see, little dude had a heart condition when he was born. This is common knowledge. But the brilliant necrophiliac-pederast didn’t take that into account. So much for all them brains, huh?
Okay, now that the little dude is dead, Soneji dumps him in a river, because YOLO BITCHES! There’s no reason for this. Why not bury him? Tossing the dead kid in the river lessens the chance that Soneji will get the ransom he wants. Once again, I’m suppose to believe Sonjei is intelligent? Fuck you. No. A character is only as smart as his creator, and James Patterson is one good fart away from brain death.
But wait! There’s more!
While Sonjei is busy polishing his pud or something, these secret service agents (three in all) have been watching Soneji because they THINK he might have a crush on one of the kids. This was BEFORE Soneji kidnapped the children. The trio of agents start surveilling Soneji and then BAM! Soneji runs off with the kids. So, instead of doing something to stop him, all three of these motherfuckers decide to kidnap the kidnapped kids. What the fucking what? I can see there being one crooked agent, but not three. I can see one of them getting angry AFTER they are reprimanded for losing the kids, but BEFORE. Whatever, Patterson. I could almost forgive the cliched “Good cop gets taken off the case and must strike out on his own” cliche, but I can’t forgive “The bad guys are actually cops/agents/love interests” cliche. And yes, all of the things divided by slashes are true. In fact, there are so many “bad guy” characters, they literally outnumber the lead “good guy” characters.
and Alex’s partner Sampson, who’s actually only in about a fifth of the book.
While the three cray-cray secret service motherfuckers are hiding out, trying to pretend they didn’t have shit to do with shit (two of these idiots quit right after the kids were kidnapped, and the last one quit a few months later, as if that ALONE wouldn’t make them look guilty… remember, these fuckers are supposed to be smart), the necrophiliac-pederast turns himself in by shooting up a McDonald’s. He’s given a trial that is so eerily similar to the trial in William Diehl’s Primal Fear that I had to stop reading and look up publication dates for both books. They even try the whole “Let’s see if we can get the “Bad-Boy” personality to show up in court” thing. Fucking really? Only difference here is the verdict. Soneji goes to jail. Soon enough, he confesses to Cross for no fucking reason. Him confessing does not help his plan. It puts more heat on the agents and SHOULD HAVE caused his grand plan to be foiled. But more on that after this next part.
Sigh… Here we go.
There’s no way this supposedly-brilliant motherfucker could have known that he would be put in a prison wherein there just happened to be a guard that he could bribe. There’s no way this allegedly uber-smart fucktard could have known that this guard would be allowed to take him downstairs, alone. Then Patterson wants us to believe that there’s a prison in 1990-era America that doesn’t have a goddamn motherfucking sonuvabitching camera in the christing elevator. Are. You. Fucking. Kidding? Eat my ass with a melon baller. Eat it, book. Fuck your entire face with a vibrating harpoon.
Back to Soneji’s plan being so convoluted that it should have backfired. He does all this shit and actually fucking escapes. The FBI and the Secret Service have known all along that the three agents were involved, but they had no proof. So they put surveillance on the three agents. Somehow they miss Gary Soneji entering Devine’s crib, leaving Devine’s crib for a treasure hunt, and then return to Devine’s crib to cut him to pieces. And how did they miss this wanted fugitive who just recently escaped from motherfucking prison? Because he was dressed like the goddamn FedEx man. This is the literary equivalent of no one knowing Clark Kent is motherfucking Supes because Clark wears fucking glasses.
*bangs head against desk*
I give up. I think I’ve made my point. I’m not a hater. I’m not some elitist that likes shitting on people wonderful memories of favorite novels. This book is garbage. It’s shittily written, it’s terribly fucking plotted, and it celebrates mediocrity by having become a bestseller and rocketing James Patterson into the same categories as actual writers, as people who are talented.
In summation: Motherfuck this book. It saddens me that James Patterson is a household name. It breaks my heart that I know who he is, but only recently found such amazing authors as Jonathan Kellerman and Greg Iles, you know, guys who can actually write. Stephen King once said (I’m paraphasing here) that authors should read some novels for the beautiful language and others for the fun of the plot. Meaning, not every good story is going to be well-written, and not every well-written book will have a good story under the hood. But Patterson is none of these things. He has made a lucrative career out of being a basic bitch.
Final Judgment: This book is literary AIDS.