Apr 10
12
Review: The Chess Master
by Jason Stotts
Recently, a friend of mine, Stephen Peeples, from my graduating class at Denison published his first book The Chess Master. Via Facebook, he sent out requests for everyone he knew to buy the book and help him get established as a writer. Since I’m going to be in his position soon, once Sexual Perfection comes out, I was sympathetic and bought a copy of his book the first weekend.
After reading the first two chapters, I wish that I had not.
To say that the book is a sophomoric attempt at fiction is too lenient. The author seems to be completely unaware that the art of fiction is to show the reader what is happening in a story, not to tell them. Consequently, The Chess Master reads like a poorly narrated attempt to craft a story. The style is awkward, the phrases are strange, and the metaphors are weird. For example: “His frame, once a temple of knowledge, has been reduced to nothing more than a punching bag, a sack of bones swaying in the wind with the slightest breeze” (p. 5). I’d say more, but it really speaks for itself.
Further, the author seems to have done no fact checking and not to even have thought much about what it would be like to be a detective in real life: ”Ryan pulls [his necklace] off of his neck and uses the key to unlock his top drawer. Sliding it open, he pulls out a police issued handgun.” Really? Really? So this great detective is not only not carrying his duty firearm, he has it locked inside his desk. Not only is he not wearing his primary “police issued handgun,” he is apparently not carrying a back up gun, which is unrealistic. Further, no police officer of any rank would ever just think of the thing on which his life depended as just his “police issued handgun.” At the very least, he’d think of it by manufacturer or kind: e.g. Glock or M&P. Furthermore, this detective places his loaded gun on the seat next to him when he gets in his car, which is just dangerous. Not only that, but the most common “standard issue” police weapon right now is a Glock, yet Detective Ryan “turns off” his safety on his “police issued handgun.” Glocks do not have manual safeties. It is this kind of complete inattention to detail that makes the story unbelievable and prevent one from engaging in the story.
The combination of the author telling me the story in his awkward style combined with his complete inattention to details destroys whatever value might have been in the story itself, if one had the gumption to wade through the all too many deficiencies of the book to find it.
Stephen, I’m sorry. I tried to like this book, I really did. However, it is literally the worst instance of fiction I’ve ever tried to read.
