A review of More Than This by Patrick Ness

(Very full of spoilers.  But if you’re actually going to read the book-which is a terrible mistake-run away while you still can-read a kind of spoilery review or at least skim it so you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.)  

First, let me say, The Matrix was better.  

And The Matrix doesn’t make you wonder if the world you’re living in is a real world or some computer world.  

The book starts with an uncomfortably gory chapter about EXACTLY how Seth dies.  I don’t mean a little bit gory, I mean I was uncomfortable reading this.  It didn’t just say something like “his arm broke” it was HIS ARM BROKE AND IT FELT LIKE THIS AND IT MADE THIS SOUND AND THEN THE BONE CAME THROUGH THE SKIN IN THIS WAY AND ALL OF THIS IS BEING DESCRIBED IN AN EMOTIONALLY SCARRING WAY!  What was Patrick Ness going for with this?  It doesn’t add ANYTHING to the plot, and it doesn’t make the story any more enjoyable (it actually makes it LESS enjoyable).  Was he trying to make Seth’s death seem even more terrible?  If so, why?  

I read all of this book at night, so maybe I was bothered by it more because it was night?  Or maybe I was just bothered by it because it’s…  I don’t know what word describes it.  Creepy maybe?  Unsettling?  

It took a VERY long time for Seth to actually find other humans-more than a hundred pages elapse before he met Regine and Tomasz.  Yes, he had those flashbacks about his life, but I don’t count those because they were dreams or memories or whatever and there weren’t actually real people.  His backstory was important, but maybe he could have run into someone when he went to find food in the town and he could have told them his backstory?  It could have been a personal narrative and he could have thought about the past and his backstory.  Perhaps he could have come to some important understanding about his life and himself.  I would have been fine with both of those, but instead it was over a hundred pages of flashbacks and Seth wandering around eating canned spaghetti.  

I might have been happier if there had been something he saw while walking around the town.  Maybe a shadow out of the corner of his eye, or maybe he thought he heard voices but there was nothing.  Something.  I was expecting this book to be horror, and even though there were other people and there was a monster I had started to think that the whole book would be about him wandering around and having flashbacks.  It was boring, but there was nothing to be afraid of so I relaxed.  I guess some readers might have been bothered by the idea of being all alone.  I suppose not being bothered by that says something more about me than about Seth.  

And then, without warning, there was The Driver.  

The Driver is the thing of nightmares.  It’s one of the most terrifying monsters I’ve read about.  

One of the worst points of this book is that Owen, Seth’s beloved little brother, is dead.  Let me say it again:  OWEN DIED.  The whole time I thought Owen was alive and just in the computer world and then I figured out that he was dead!  I don’t even have words to describe how angry and sad I was when I read this.  I don’t do well when little siblings die because I really love my little sister and I can’t think about little siblings dying.  

The ending was also terrible.  If it had specifically said that Seth got back to the computer world or specifically said that it didn’t work, I would’ve been much happier.  (Actually I wouldn’t have been.  After I figured out that Owen died the book was dead to me.)  

NO STARS.  Fine, one, but I don’t really mean it.  

I would recommend this book to people who want to stay up until four AM questioning their existence.  

IT'S NOT YOUR LIFE

Recently I’ve heard a few teenagers talk about how young people (thirteen and fourteen year olds mostly) can’t be in a relationship.  

IT’S NOT YOUR LIFE.  SHUT UP.  

I haven’t had a boyfriend and I don’t want one.  Right now I would rather have a really nice electric guitar or unlimited concert tickets and money for t-shirts because I like music more than people.  I also don’t think I completely know who I am because I’m still pretty young, and I, at least, want to know who I am before I have a boyfriend.  

But just because I don’t want a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out if someone younger than me has a boyfriend.  

I don’t care if you’re thirteen or fourteen and you have a boyfriend or girlfriend.  If that makes you happy then I’m happy that you’re happy.  That’s not what makes me happy, but whatever, it’s your life.  If everyone in the relationship is happy and everyone is nice to each other, people should just shut up.  If dating makes someone happy, people shouldn’t yell at them or say that they’re too young to actually feel that way.  It makes them happy, and we need more happiness in the world.  

Even though it may look like I’m the weird punk girl who probably hates love, I think love is nice, and if dating makes you happy, go for it.  It’s not my place to say what you can and can’t do.  If you try to rant to me about how love is stupid and how teenagers are too young to feel real emotions, I’ll probably throw a book at your face because that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.  Also, if you’re a teenager and you’ve been saying stuff like this, YOU ARE A FREAKING TEENAGER, DON’T YOU FREAKING DARE SAY THAT TEENAGERS’ EMOTIONS AREN’T REAL.  IF SOMEONE SAID THAT YOUR EMOTIONS WEREN’T REAL YOU WOULD BE UPSET.  

I would be less upset about this if I didn’t mostly hear teenagers saying this crap.  Why do they do this?  

I’m freaking sick of people trying to control other people’s lives just because other people are living their lives in a way some people disagree with.  

Everyone just needs to calm down and leave everyone else alone.  Especially if the person isn’t someone you know well and you’re just freaking out about how they’re living.  IT’S NOT YOUR LIFE!  

About Clothes

If you’ve met me, you know how I dress.  Skinny jeans and baggy t-shirts and hoodies and slouchy hats and fingerless gloves and sneakers.  Yes, I do have skirts, tunics, and other clothes, but I’m most comfortable in the things I listed so that’s what I wear most.  

I don’t like short-shorts or tight-fitting shirts or tank tops so I don’t wear them.  If you wear them that’s fine.  That’s your choice and I would be a terrible human if I yelled at you for wearing what you want.  

I don’t care if you’re ten and you want to wear tank tops and short-shorts, because that’s your choice!  Sure, it’s not the one I would make, but I’m NOT you so I can’t tell you how to dress.  

I hate when people freak out because OTHER PEOPLE wear things they don’t like.  Just because a child is wearing something you wouldn’t have worn at that age doesn’t mean you get to freak out and say terrible things about their clothes, their morals, and the state of childhood today.  

There are some things other girls my age wear that I would NEVER wear, but I don’t care that they wear this kind of thing because IT’S THEIR CHOICE.  

I don’t care if you’re eleven and you like to wear short dresses and high heels.  I wouldn’t have worn that at that age, but it’s your body so you should be able to put whatever you want on it.  

I feel the same way about piercings and tattoos and hair.  It doesn’t matter what people do with their own hair, their hair is not your hair so you don’t get a say in how they style it.  I don’t care if you’re eleven and you have short hair or dyed hair, because IT’S YOUR HAIR.  If you’re fourteen and have a bunch of piercings, that’s fine.  It’s your body and if you feel comfortable getting piercings, that’s great.  If you have a bunch of tattoos, that’s also cool.  

I don’t judge people for what they wear, or what they do with their hair, or what piercing or tattoos they have.  I judge them by how they treat others.  Why can’t other people do the same thing?  

Dream Journal

I had a dream about a giant, seven foot tall, purple egg that appeared in the hallway outside my room.  It was like a giant evil version of one of those pale purple eggs that you find in Easter egg hunts when you’re little.  I know this sounds weird.  Just go with it.  

So in my dream I went downstairs and told my mom that a giant purple egg was sitting in the hallway.  My mom wasn’t like, “Wait, what?” she was totally cool and was just like, “Oh yeah, that’s the purple egg of doom.  It comes when people have anxiety and it stays outside their room until their anxiety is gone.”  

I know that everything causes me anxiety, but a giant purple egg that can tell that I have anxiety would probably give me MORE anxiety.  Way to go purple egg of doom!  

So in my dream I lied to the purple egg of doom and I said that I was totally anxiety free and it just disappeared.  Right in front of my eyes.  

Here’s the catch-because there’s always a catch, even if it’s an evil purple egg-if you think about the egg, or talk about the egg, it comes back because it gets angry.  

So it’s a giant purple egg that comes when you’re already a stressed mess and then comes back if you talk or think about it.  And it’s mad because you thought about it.  

This will not get rid of any anxiety.  This will CAUSE anxiety.  Who came up with this.  

Oh yeah.  I did.  

…

I’m normal.