So, let's imagine a drinking game, you know the kind, x happens, a certain amount of a certain alcohol, we shall call y, is imbibed, and slowly, quickly, quicker, fuck, too late you're naked and break dancing.
Let's imagine an indie book review drinking game. How drunk would you get if you took a sip of y every time x happens? Let's look at the x's:
1. You look at the cover, and you know it's self-published, it's not going to be a masterpiece, but come on! It looks like something my one-year old daughter left behind in her nappie.
2. How many times does lightning need to strike before the author realises a flash of lighting does not a room lighten(ing)? Typos come and go, they're easily forgotten, easily forgiven (I'm looking at you Battle Royale) but sometimes, just sometimes, they keep on coming, and coming, until the correct words around them become the anomaly.
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4. Barry needs to end up staring into the abyss of his despair, feet dangling from a cliff, before he can have his redemptive moment from jumping, only to become snagged on a branch (the exact same thing that happened to his brother, only this time, the branch doesn't snap). Just a chapter previously he didn't even have a brother, let along any despair, and he was living in the Netherlands!
5. I, I just can't even... who is speaking again?
6. I know I should know your name, we've met before, what is it? Nope, sorry missed it. Nope, sorry. Third time's the charm? [nods and smiles]. Yes, um, okay. I'll get right on that.
7. You want me to understand what? How the combustion engine works? And you want to take a whole chapter to explain this to me, in Vampires vs Aliens? Really?
8. Where the hell am I? I love these guys, but they seem to be just floating in the clouds having life and death conversations.