Reviews and Comments

Each story sticks with you in a unique way. Written smartly, with pacing that I haven't seen even in an anthology of short stories in quite a long time. I strongly recommend this book to everyone I know. You'll really enjoy it.

I started this read because the book is supposed to be a seminal sci-fi classic. It won awards, so it's supposed to be excellent.

I have learned that awards don't point to good books. They point to books that win awards. Moving forward I will likely be relying on popular opinion from my book-loving partner and here on Goodreads.

Blah. At least it's over.

It nearly took three months to read and was a terrible agony. In the end I determined that I was going to finish it. I decided I was going to hate-finish this book.

There is nothing here. It's a waste of time. It's as substantial and meaningful as Splenda. It's diet soda that is boiled away and all that is left is inexplicable dust. It is not pleasant, it is not good for you. You want all the characters to die from impact after falling from great heights.

It makes you want to set every Diane and Jackie you'll ever meet on fire. You'll want to throw Josh into a bottomless pit and forget all about it and imagine you didn't misplace three months struggling for a literary payoff that is just like diet pop being boiled away. Nothing.

The book consumes space and weighs something and that I think annoys me the most. I cannot delete it. It just sits there, turning the promise of the amazing Welcome to Night Vale podcast into a worthless meaningless waste of time just like trying to leave Night Vale. In that regard it's much like Night Vale itself, a blank blotch somewhere in some desert, you can't find it but once you arrive you wish you never started looking for it.

This book is a literary Hotel California. Once you check in, you can never leave. You keep on waiting for something to be left after it boils away. Keep on waiting. But in the end it's diet pop and there is nothing at all once it's boiled off.

Except all that time you can never get back. Yes, that's gone forever. This book hurts my head. It's offensive in ways I never imagined a book could be. But I thank god it's over.

It may have also helped me get over the podcast. Ugh.

Math, masturbation, and mining. Written in the style of a bipolar author trying to cope with progress deadlines from the publisher. The ending? A telegram STOP because, you know, the author is done with writing this dreck. It's done, and I'm done with this author. Gah.

As with many other books that Clive wrote, there is more to the story. You want to follow Gentle on more adventures, but... it's a wonderful ride anyways.