Trisomy XXI (Book)

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trisomyxxiWritten by G.A. Minton

Published by World Castle Publishing


Trisomy XXI by G.A. Minton… What to say about this book… I had high hopes for it, as I do all books I read, and I got caught up on judging this book by its cover. I should know better, the old adage tells me. Judge a book by its cover, and you’ll get burned.

Well, that’s what happened to me. It has such delicious cover art that I thought this book would be a winner for sure. Unfortunately, Trisomy XXI just isn’t the competitive type.

I hate to give a negative review for this one because I really feel like the author has heart. I think he had a vision which had a lot of potential, but ultimately his failing was in the execution.

Trisomy XXI is a sci-fi horror that promised to be a read like no other. The back touted it to be a mashup of writing like Stephen King, Clive Barker, and Michael Crichton. I’d beg to differ with that estimation.

Joshua, a teen with Down syndrome (trisomy 21), powers through a hard life. He’s bullied at school, his mother died in childbirth, and his Evangelical father is abusive. He’s left in a coma after a horrible accident that kills his life-long best friend, Patrick. While in the hospital, Joshua is injected with an experimental substance that dramatically changes him. Soon his Down condition is no longer an issue, as he’s transformed into a handsome young man of great intellect and supernatural powers.

All is not rosy after this transformation, however. There’s a monstrous space alien (not your run-of-the-mill “grey”) that will do whatever it takes to get to Joshua.

The premise itself isn’t bad, but the writing is the book’s downfall. Minton leaves absolutely nothing to the reader’s imagination. The narrative was so bogged down with inane details that if it wasn’t for writing this review, I would have stopped reading.

Case in point: In one passage the author describes that someone has asphyxiated. Ninety-nine percent of readers will understand this means the character is dead. Still, Minton goes on to describe how he has no heartbeat, no pulse, isn’t breathing, and has no outward appearance of life. In and of itself, this redundancy isn’t the worst thing an author could do, but as a chronic occurrence it becomes tiresome and takes away from the pace of the story.

From the very first chapter I knew I was in trouble. There we are introduced to Henry and his potty-mouth. Minton took nearly four pages, going into excruciatingly repetitive detail, to explain just how much Henry swears. Then, when it finally came time to hear Henry speak, the curses he strung together weren’t anything that could even make my grandmother blush. I don’t think sayings like “what in the name of fornication” and calling things “turds” warranted the lengthy explanation of the character’s verbal habits.

Which takes me to my next point. It’s ironic that the author described Henry as someone who “must have paid attention in English class when the teacher was discussing the merits of alliteration in sentence construction” because another problem I found with the writing was the overuse of alliteration, and not just with Henry’s dialog. “Dazed dipsomanic,” “aquatic antics,” and “irritated entity” are just some examples of phrasing I found distracting. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why this author chose to use this particular literary device when, and as often, as he did.

To make matters worse, the dispersal of adverbs in the beginning got under my skin. We all want a little spice to add some flavor, but using too much of anything will create a one-note dish at best and ruin the recipe at worst. While this novel’s “recipe” may not have been altogether ruined by adverbs, I was left searching for something to cleanse my palate. One can only deal with so many in a paragraph, let alone a sentence.

There was, nonetheless, a light at the end of the tunnel for me. About halfway though the plot and action were able to shine despite the writing, and the adverb usage lightened up. Much of the stumbling and bumbling — and boredom — of the first half leaked away as a body-snatcher type alien decimated the humans around it to achieve its goal. By this point, though, it was just too little, too late.

Trisomy XXI was a disappointment. I could see the potential, but the author just wasn’t able to pull it off. The first half made me want to stop reading, and although the second half had more obvious talent, it was far from perfect. This is why I’m hard pressed to give it anything other than a two-star rating.

I hope G.A. Minton keeps writing and refining his skills because Trisomy XXI was a good idea; it just fell short of being a good read.

 

 

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