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Lord Kragan reads: World of Grayham/Worlds of the Crystal Moon.

introduction and label.
  • Lord Kragan

    The one and only Lord of Mutton Chops.
    Author
    May of 2009, Utah. Phillip "Big Dog" E. Jones decides to launch the closest thing we will ever get from a pyramid scheme in the literary world. Enter...


    WORLDS OF THE CRYSTAL MOON

    Worlds of the Crystal moon is a bad novel amidst a sea of incompetence that plagues the genre of epic fantasy. As in, it gives the Maradonia Saga a hell of a run for its money. It's that bad, guys. Now, if you don't believe me, just stick around this trail of pain.

    And you are wondering, what is this pyramid scheme you talk of? You see, WOCM is a bad novel, a horrible one. But it's, "apparently", a "draft". You heard it, all these bad thingies, all these plotpoints or scenes, are just testing grounds, trials and starting ideas, so no biggie!

    Who will correct them, though? The answer is simple: the reader.

    Even though Big Dog (who, by the way, was the owner of the publishing house that distributed this... thing) had two editors in his payroll it befell to any involved reader to do his and his employees' jobs. it was, as they put it, to foment involvement of the fans.

    This process rinsed and repeat for not one, not two, but four more times up to the last edition, which got a name change and would come to be known as "Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign." I maaay cover that one later but let's stick to WOCM 4th edition. Because it's chock full of glorious stuff!!

    Like the glossary, which starts with...

    Dawn:

    "The moment when the sun rises just above the horizon."



    I'm not kidding. This book literally starts explaining you what the hell dawn is. And this is marketed to YAs, even though I wouldn't recommend it to anyone between the ages of 12 and dead to be honest, and it sure sure as hell has enough erotic/scatologic content and subtext to earn the literary equivalent of the R rating. And you sure as shit ain't bringing this to a 3 years old.

    The list goes on, providing jewels like:

    "Midnight

    An estimated series of moments that is said to be in the middle of the night."

    Truly something I'd never have thought of!
    Which brings me to the point above and the "Bailem" (note, not the battle of Bailen, were the spanish remembered they had weapons and used them, causing the french to mass surrender) which is basically the author feeling artsy and wanting to name "Day" by a different way. And you would say: well, it's a fantasy novel, a different culture, don't be such a prissy bitch Kragan!

    Ahahaha.

    No.

    Just no.

    The pain begins now, whomever wants to get out of this wild ride do so now. May god have mercy on ye who enter.
     
    Chapter 1A: Meet Sam and Narrator!
  • *Drags barrel of Rum*

    Boy, my body is ready for this... I hope.

    Well, last time we were observing the marvelous glossary the author deigned on providing us. Now? it's time to start the EPIC ADV-

    "Hello Reader…

    Who the fuck are you?

    …or perhaps I should say, Lost Soul. I truly hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately, there's no tender way to deliver the blow. I'm left with no choice but to come right out and say it. You see, you and I, well…we're dead. If it makes it easier to hear, we have perished and if a softer delivery is still necessary…your bucket has been kicked

    Oh god no! I had a shitty spork to start!

    Yeah, I'm not joking: the book starts with the author, or some weird un-identified entity (AKA the Narrator) out of the blue telling you you're dead. Thrice, with the second and onwards times being explained in what is essentially babble. This has gone through two editors.

    Epic fantasy at its finest ladies and gents!

    Now, I may be coming across as unnecessarily snarky.

    Don't worry, it's entirely warranted.


    To make things short, yeah, we are dead. Everyone on earth is dead (on the bright side the australians managed to win the emu war this way). Apparently all the beings on other planets too. Will we actually see them? Fuck hell no! Do they really matter or get much mention? Yes but no at all. They just get mentioned here and I THINK in chapter 2-3, then by and large fall into oblivion. Which is for the better.

    "I know none of this makes sense and you're probably asking yourself, "Phillip, what are you talking about?"

    No. My name is not Phillip. It's yours. This could have gone well without the yourself. This got through two ed-

    *breathes in* *breathes out*

    O-kay. Better stop it.

    We continue on and are assaulted by a MASSSIVE infodump that spans almost to the end of page 2. Remember this is PAGE 1 and he's already trying to shove bland pieces of data on us. The basics?

    >Gods went to war. For some reason, he refers to them as "so-called"... for some reason. It's weird, doubly so since he is the narrator.
    >This war lasted 3000 seasons (so three quarters of a millenia? it's strange the way it's worded)
    >We all ded.
    >The book-who apparently has will of its own- has asked Jones to chronicle a series of events.

    This phrase also gets me.

    "The sadness of this devastation still wanders through space."

    Jones... you maaaay have taken Newton's laws a tad too seriously. Emotions don't go THAT far. Though I can guess why it's out and around, far from this mess.

    Oh, and the god war? It's called The Great Destruction of Everything Known.

    *slow clap*

    You've gotta commend that sheer originality. It's bristling, pouring unto us peasants. At least he didn't go for ragnarok. That's gotta count for something, right?

    Right?
    I was an author and lived on the planet Earth. The Book, after learning this, asked me to gather the facts necessary to tells a series of stories."
    "I hope you enjoy my recollections, but if you don't, garesh happens. Read anyway."


    Order of the day:
    first thing: fuck you, Jones, for shilling yourself so hard. Really, the book chose you over Pulitzer prizes and Nobels of literature? Over minds like Tolkien or Asimov? W-ow, the ego.
    second thing: what is garesh? Well, turns out is the way they say: "shit"... and you need to read in a hundred pages to find out, at which point chances are quite high you won't remember this instance so you won't find it "ingenous". This reminds me on so many levels to those times outlanders try to use spanish and only do with a few words peppered across their sentences all while thinking its cool. No it's not, it grinds my gears and drives me nuts. And in this sentence it comes across as pretty dismissive and arrogant.
    third thing: due to the combination of the two above: man, fuck you Jones.

    Now, at around page three we start our epic adventures in the mysterious and far-away land of Los Angeles, California!

    Waitjustafuckingminute

    *checks out*

    Eyup, my bad. We've gotta check out the cardboard cut- er I mean characters backstories first!

    And lo and behold the first and main of our three heroes.

    "Dr. Sam Goodrich put the cold stethoscope on the boy's chest and asked him to take two deep breaths. The child jumped. Once Sam determined the youngster was in good general heath and his flu-like symptoms could be treated with simple over the counter medications, he wrote out his recommendations and handed them to the boy's mother."

    ...

    This is how the story proper begins. I kid you not. And boy do I have beefs with it, besides how jarring it feels, considering chapter 1 will have nothing to do with the rest of the novel. Well, chapter 1 and 2 are a mess. Most of the chapters are fairly short, but these two put together clock a tenth of the novel's lenght, give or take.

    But that's beside the point. The whole structure is weird. It reads as if Sam went on the boy: NOW TAKE TWO BREATHS MOTHERFUCKER!! and it caused the guy to jump in fear, when it clearly must mean that he jumped from the cold of the stethoscope.

    And who the hell needs a stethoscope for the flu? Or hell, need actual recommendations and medications for something along the lines for the flu? I'm most likely putting too much thought into this, more than either the author or its two editors.

    Anyways, meet Sam Goodrich (no, seriously). He's a doctor that isn't enjoying his profession and hopes tonight he will get to break ou-

    Wait a moment. Let me read this again.

    Why is this a thing?
    "Sam was muscular, with chiseled abs, which many women found to be their personal definition of perfection. At five-foot ten, 205 pounds, he was in amazing shape, and his cardio, not to mention his diet, was exemplary."

    Why. Is this. A thing.

    For the love of jesus, who in hell goes this in real life? Personal definition of perfection? Can you puh-leeze spell gary stu for me?
    And who in blazes cares about a character's cardio on the first paragraphs of meeting a character? Or ever for that matter.

    This is a lot of horrid babble to say: He was HAWT and MACHO!

    L-like, I kid you not, this almost feels like the author thinkin: it may not do to start off the chapter with this description and poorly tacked in the other three paragraphs, which have nothing to do with this. Oh my god, he did do that.
    "He was not what many would consider a normal doctor. Sam had a bit of a dark side, though he did not know its extent. For the last six and a half years, he worked tirelessly training in the world of Mixed Martial Arts Combat to develop his skills as a fighter. Today was Sam's big day, the day of his first professional fight."

    Megan dated Josh for five months and then left him for Tyrone. In other news, this novel is plagued with non-sequiturs. Leaving aside how cliche for mary sues it is to have a dark side, there's nothing connecting sentences 1 and 2 with 3 and 4.

    But it seems there's the fight, right? That sounds interesting!

    So how about wasting another two and a half pages on Sam's backstory? Friendly reminder that this is page 3, and we've spent a solid two pages before on infodumps.

    Jones... talks. And talks. And talks.

    And really, not much substance to be found:

    => He has anger issues (more on that latter).
    => He's a cage fighter because his anger councellor told him to (well, paraphrasing a tad). Someone bring Donnie to fire him, please. Like seriously, you don't give people with anger issues an outlet that is bound to generate more anger, and put others in harm's way.
    =>He graduated at age ten. Got a bachelor at age 13 and graduated on medicine at age 16.

    He got a degree by age 16. 16. And he's got a greek statue-tier body (minus the wiener I assume). There's no human way that's happening, bud.

    =>He has photographic memory.

    => He triies to fit in by acting dumb.

    You got a degreey by age 16. 16. I got mine at 21, and did so without failing a single course (advantages of being born in december) on a four year-length career. Doctors in my country take SIX years, minimum. That would be a minimum age of 24 years to get the degree.

    Clearly you must be noticing a certain dissonance, mustn't you Sam?

    His father wanted him to be a doctor, but Sam didn't (can he even act as a doctor, shouldn't he be doing the practical course or whatever its called in english?) The courts rule out in Sam's favour, he cannot practice until 18. That makes Sam. Wait.

    "To Sam, they were all prejudiced; an evil empire bound and determined to hold him back."

    ... Eh...
    Sam it... it... It makes no sense. Do you want or DO NOT want to be a doctor?

    Come age eighteen, he becomes director of a 13 story facility. A 13 story family practice.

    I'm sorry, what?

    I...

    Let's move on. Shall we? I just cannot take it anymore with the backstory.

    The BIG fight comes soon and his secretary asks him to show off is pectorals for a friend of hers. Sam says:

    "Tell Cindy that I will plex my pecs for her, and tell her husband too."
    Our hero ladies and gentlemen!

    We get more mary sue points, as he's alloted the MGM fucking Grand (apparently the transport will be handled by Euron Greyjoy because it almost seems he's telleporting) and we get this:
    "He hadn't even fought professionally yet, but was already on the cover of ESPN The Magazine. He had to laugh at the headline: The Smartest Athlete in the World: Dumb Enough to Enter the Cage of Mixed Martial Arts Combat."

    Man, has the american sports' scene fallen so hard that the cover of ESPN needs an absolute cypher and literally-who to figure in its cover. My condolences.

    The narration lambasts MMA, calling it barbaric and savage. Nice touch there, dickhole.

    We get yet another moment of mary sueness (is anyone keeping track?) by having the stadium chock full and a horde of women shouting proposals at Sam.
    "Sam Goodrich, marry me, baby! I'll take care of you," she screamed.

    Like any red-blooded male, Sam was not immune to a beautiful woman.


    Friendly reminder that faggots have purple blood (this season, at least) and asexuals have pale-blood. Bi and Pansexuals get to pick their colours depending on their sexual schedules, but cannot change out more than twice a week.

    This could have been passable, if horribly chauvinist and oldschool, if it had used "hot blooded". Otherwise it comes across as very chauvinist and oldschool and cringy and awkward.

    And don't get me started on the woman's quote.

    Sam gets interested a bit... until he finds out she has gaps in the teeth. Then he mentally discards her.

    Our hero, ladies and gentlemen!

    Sam gets an interview from Martha, a woman wearing a dior suit (dunno why but Jones feels the need to point it out. Twice). he get asked the traditional why do you fight. And... he goes blank.
    He realized he didn't truly know the desires of his own heart

    Snnnrrk!


    Okay, this is the traditional: see? he has flaws, not a sue! Situation. Thing is: a) it flies against the face of him being a genius and b) it literally bears no importance outside this chapter.

    Sam leaves the "ravenous" (even though she's just made ONE question) woman, very conflicted. Turns out his trainer is unavailable, because he's in the hospital with his daughter, whom suffered an accident (Sam feels bad... not that this will ever be brought again. EVER). This is just a poor attempt to "humanize" him in the way only a reptilian wearing human skin can think off.

    We get more editing fail, we get to start the fight against the brazilian (no name given, guess google is too much of a hassle) who practices muay-thay instead of the traditional brazilian jiu jitsu mixed with other stuff. Boy is the scene choppy. Like, if you don't do martial arts or anything along those lines it's ok, but otherwise it feels VERY disjointed. The pacing is akward in how thing happen. The brazilian handles his ass.

    "Most fighters would have been excited by now, trying to psych themselves up, but Sam's mind would no longer allow him to do anything but concentrate. He refused to let the fast-paced environment rule him. As he walked, he focused on the task at hand, taking note of everything."

    Yeah, boys, endocrine glands don't own you! Control your erections at will without a problem!

    Seriously, this is both mary sueish and stupid. Why would you NOT want your system to start gearing you up? And what are you concentrating on to begin with? Maybe in his 12-0 record. I kid you not, he didn't loss a single amateur match. Guess he may have done like Uwe Boll with his critics and only went for the weaklings. And for some reason the narration juggles doctor, fighter genius and Sam when refering to him. Which is awkward, to say the least.

    *more pointless fight-scene*

    The brazilian hurls a weak ass insult (you ain't ready) but Sam is such a panzy ass bitch it turns out to hit him deep.

    "At that, Sam pulled back and surrendered to the anger rising from the center of his being, allowing his inner junkie to be fed.
    *pointless fight scene*


    Sam could now smell a victory of his own, a gloriously pungent aroma emanating from the adrenaline which refueled his body.

    [. . .] He squeezed with all his might. With a momentary loss of control, he appeased his inner demon, losing his sanity.

    "Never doubt me," he shouted. With a hidden wickedness he didn't know existed, Sam tightened his grasp for the kill. "Die, bastard, die!" The demon within was now poking out its head.




    ...

    Someone fire that councelor. NOW. This clearly isn't doing any good for sam, this is clearly actually inciting him to further negative reactions. Whomever thought it was a good idea deserves the boot. With an iron spike at the tip.

    I'm not kidding, he literally needs to be fucking pried off the poor sod. This doesn't require a councellor, this requires a goddamn straightjacket. Like, for yesterday.
    "Sam knew his fame was about to take yet another giant leap forward and his genius mind wondered what this new roller coaster would be like. He knew most men would be thinking about the moment and living it up, but Sam was not like most men."

    "Young doctor charged with vicious murder. Sent to mental asylum."

    I swear honest to god at the momentI reached genius mind I could almost could gear the author slurping on Sam's wiener. And don't get me started on the next sentences. Of course, he's not like most men, he's a madman and a dangerous one.

    He turns to the announcer and something evil and unexpected happens. I'm not making shit up, it's quoted that way by the narration.
    The announcer's eyes turn red and his teeth get pointy. Sam tries to hit him but gets really tired. Then they're both back to normal and Sam is all confused.

    "His mind was stumped, yet his brilliant intellect knew, somehow, the red glowing eyes of the announcer and his pointed teeth seemed familiar, but how and why, he did not know."

    *something splatters into my face from the computer screen*

    Is this... is this...

    I'm leaving that there. period.

    "Now…fellow soul…as Sam said in his own words on the day that I, your Spirited Storyteller, interviewed him to learn the events of this epic tale…trust me…it's epic (evil chuckle.) Moving on…"

    The narrator butts in with the subtlety of a jackhammer. Come a thousand extra times, I MAAAAY believe this is epic. Keep it on Jones!
    Sam lies on a bench, hears the words "Your wish is granted", and.

    "Sam instantly fell into a coma."

    He what.

    I'm not joking, there's this massive gap between pargraphs a and c and this single line in the midst. There's no more context. That's it. The author has literally spent 9 pages to lead to this hell of an anti climax.

    The EVUL guy appears again. Gives bad foreshadowing. Sam's body disappears and I'm fucking done with this. Tomorrow will cover the other two knobheads.
     
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