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Customer Review

TOP 1000 REVIEWER
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 16 September 2021
This was not what I expected. I had steeled myself for a cozy-crime story which would, no doubt, be awful but at least be a harmless way of passing some time. However, it’s got “serious” bits in it; but this book is more Val Doonican than Val McDermid. There are moments, basically unskilled shifts in tone, which are probably meant to be shocking but are telegraphed pages in advance, and make the attempt at a serious crime novel look leaden and clumsy.
This book is awful. I punished myself reading it. Every sentence is overwritten to breaking point. It is very hard to care about any of the characters because they are all so badly written. There is one called Elizabeth who is nearly seventy but talks like she’s twenty; one of the many signs of poor characterisation in this book. I suspect she is meant to be the “strong female character” in the story, which is par for the course these days for any book, but this one lacks strong characters of any gender. The villain is bereft of any dimension, let alone the requisite three. This book has three parts and 84 chapters for some reason. 84. This is not the hallmark of competence, and neither is writing a story in the present tense just to be “edgy”.
A plot that does nothing, characters that irritate and attempts at humour that do nothing but irritate, this is the last-minute homework of a talentless amateur desperately trying to avoid failing a creative writing course. No book can literally be painful to read; words on a page cannot actually cause you physical discomfort. But you know what? “The Man Who Died Twice” very nearly makes such a book an excruciating reality. If this is 21st century literature then you have to fear for the future of the written word.
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1.0 out of 5 stars It is literally painful to read this book.
By Kid Ferrous 🔴🟡🟢 on 16 September 2021
This was not what I expected. I had steeled myself for a cozy-crime story which would, no doubt, be awful but at least be a harmless way of passing some time. However, it’s got “serious” bits in it; but this book is more Val Doonican than Val McDermid. There are moments, basically unskilled shifts in tone, which are probably meant to be shocking but are telegraphed pages in advance, and make the attempt at a serious crime novel look leaden and clumsy.
This book is awful. I punished myself reading it. Every sentence is overwritten to breaking point. It is very hard to care about any of the characters because they are all so badly written. There is one called Elizabeth who is nearly seventy but talks like she’s twenty; one of the many signs of poor characterisation in this book. I suspect she is meant to be the “strong female character” in the story, which is par for the course these days for any book, but this one lacks strong characters of any gender. The villain is bereft of any dimension, let alone the requisite three. This book has three parts and 84 chapters for some reason. 84. This is not the hallmark of competence, and neither is writing a story in the present tense just to be “edgy”.
A plot that does nothing, characters that irritate and attempts at humour that do nothing but irritate, this is the last-minute homework of a talentless amateur desperately trying to avoid failing a creative writing course. No book can literally be painful to read; words on a page cannot actually cause you physical discomfort. But you know what? “The Man Who Died Twice” very nearly makes such a book an excruciating reality. If this is 21st century literature then you have to fear for the future of the written word.
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