A bit out of the ordinary but I am busy with my novel at this point and I haven’t added a post for a while.
It’s a tough time for the independent author. I should know as none of you are buying my books. Which I am frankly not happy with as I am trying to entertain you people. Some of you are and I bow done to you for knowing quality when you see it.
Well anyway for authors today you either have to give a blow job to a publishing company, create your own publishing company, or be like one of those people on the street and defecate on a landmark to get some attention.
Even if you’re good, even if you put your very soul into a work, you just turn into those sad people that have to stand on a fucking podium with a shotgun to get some pity publicity.
Sadly fantasy is turning into one giant ocean of pure rancid shit. It’s either the same pooy coming of age story where some wanker has to find some dildo of godly might to smack Satan in the face or just go on a quest to do something because he got board one day.
Robert Beven’s series Critical failures is what I consider that gold nugget in that toilet kindle calls a library
I suppose I have to make fun of this book on some level for all you sick sadists that get off watching Clive Barker’s Hellraiser so I will get to it.
The editing sucks, there is not much in the way of a description, and I am guessing if Robert Beven was leading a roleplaying game and acting as the DM he would probably have my level two Tiefling Warlock be wedgied by my own silent servant.
The book starts off simple enough with five… I use the term friends doing what every sad nerd does when they don’t have a girlfriend, and play some D&D. Sorry that’s C&C for Caverns and Creatures, as Wizards On the Coast would probably have Roberts nads if he didn’t make that change.
The novel mostly centers on Tim, sadly we don’t know what Tim looks like as Mr Beven forgot to give anyone but the main antagonist a face. Not that I would have remembered them anyway as things get fucked up pretty fast.
Enter Mordred. Now think Wayne Knight, aid receding hairline, mix in a purple cape. then finally dump the most Dungeons and dragons enthusiast in history and there you have it.
Things go rotten pretty fast when Cooper, one of the more memorable characters gets on Mordred’s bad side.
A set of magical dice later and the five friends soon find themselves in the game, and for an extra twist they turn into their game characters.
The main humor of the book is based around crude humor, but its crude humor done well.
It’s like KFC chicken vs $200 dollar a plate restaurant grade of chicken parmigiana. If it’s done well I don’t mind having the KFC chicken, its fast, simple, and I don’t have to wait for Gordon Ramsy to feel inspired to cook it.
It’s the Three stooges vs Fraiser. Mrs Brown’s boys vs the Cosby show.
It’s like a guilty pleasure, and I can see how so called civilized readers might turn away from it. I can also see those people being really fucking boring.
Robert Beven don’t stop the series.