Chichipio's Reviews > Skinwalker

I had so many problems with this novel that once I start, I'll probably go on for a while.

So instead, let's start with a positive note: Hunter's take on supes. Her always-on-edge vamps, witches and the skinwalker myth were well-done; all of them are pretty balanced power-wise and a good addition to UF lit.

Then there were some other good things, too. Her version of New Orleans and the Cherokee culture for example.

But there were two huge issues that kind of ruined the experience for me: the writing style and the characters.

Hunter is overly descriptive with everything. She feels the need to explain in excruciating detail even the most mundane procedure, object or setting. It's patronizing and disrupts the flow of actions in scenes that otherwise would be pretty good.

Let me give a random example. Jane, the MC, is having a very interesting conversation with a guy nicknamed Bruiser. Just before they sat down she started the water to make some tea. Some chapters earlier we had already been treated to several paragraphs regarding the proper preparation of it, which varieties Jane prefers, their prices, countries of origin, availability, et cetera. (no, I'm not joking!) Now, as the tension is ratcheting up, Hunter interrupts their chat so Jane can prepare the tea. Usually, I'd find this realistic and even enjoy it since I don't like errors in continuity; if you started to prepare tea, it's only logical that after a few minutes it's ready. But take a look at the way in which she does it. Jane doesn't just "prepare the tea and pour a couple of cups" before the conversation continues. Instead:

The whistle started low and rose in volume. While I thought, I stood and lifted the kettle off the flame, splashed boiling water over the teapot and into the strainer in its top, equalizing the temperature inside and out before filling the pot. I set it on the table, wrapping it in a tea cozy to keep it warm while it steeped. Bruiser’s eyebrows went up at the domestic motions. “Do you cook too?” he asked, the tone teasing. “ ’Cause any woman who does a weapon striptease, handles a Benelli like she knows how to use it, and can cook, pushes all my buttons.”

“I don’t cook,” I said, smiling when Beast showed me a stack of raw steaks. Bruiser smiled back, thinking I was flirting.

Only then the original conversation continues; the tension was long gone. If this happens once or twice, I can easily overlook it, but it's like that every single time. If I ever care about my tea enough to be interested in how to prepare it properly, shoot me! I'll wikipedia it. That's not the reason I'm reading this book and equalizing the temperature yada yada has no relevance whatsoever to the scene, so skip it. Jane never just "puts some clothes on" or "takes them off" either, she will give you the exact sequence in which she does it, down to which sock she puts on first.

Then there are the rarer stuff—things that you know she had to research. I repeat, realism is OK, more than OK even. But give us a filtered version of what you found. I'm not interested in reading a weapon's manual of specifications. Use that information to make your scenes realistic—no one wants to read an old western with revolvers that shoot infinite bullets and can pierce the heart of a man standing a mile away—but I don't need to know this, either:

I carried the Benelli M4 Super 90 shotgun to the bed and checked it for tampering. This model M4 had been designated by the military as a Joint Service Combat Shotgun. Its steel components had a matte black, phosphated, corrosion-resistant finish; the aluminum parts were matte and hard anodized; the finish reduced the weapon’s visibility during night operations. The shotgun is considered by many experts to be nearly idiotproof. It requires little or no maintenance, operates in all climates and weather conditions, can be dumped in a lake or pond and left there for a long time and not corrode. It can fire twenty-five thousand rounds of standard ammunition without needing to have any major parts replaced. I had studied long and hard before investing in the weapon.

The Benelli, a smoothbore, magazine-fed, semiauto shotgun, is designed around the autoregulating gas-operated—ARGO—firing system, with dual gas cylinders, gas pistons, and action rods for increased reliability. Locking the barrel is achieved by a rotating bolt with two lugs. It can fire 2.75- and 3-inch shells of differing power levels without any operator adjustments and in any combination, and can be adjusted or fieldstripped without tools. It’s perfect for close-in fighting in low-light operations. It’s a totally cool weapon. Mostly, though, I just liked the fact that it was idiotproof.

After reading all this, I still pictured it as a regular shotgun, so what's the point?

I could go on and on with this, but I'm already making her mistake. Overkill.

Moving on to the characters. I. Didn't. Like. Any. Of. Them. That's right, not a single one. I'm blaming this mostly on their introductions. First impressions do count and Hunter has a way of making sure that everyone is introduced under the worst possible light. They're either lying or attacking good people or just acting plain crazy for no other reason than that they can. Then, half a novel later, there's some flimsy explanation—in some cases, anyway—about that character's actions and how they weren't all that bad and what? Are we supposed to like them all of a sudden? Sorry, it doesn't work that way. Once you made a character unlikable, you can't just flip a switch and say "ta daaa! It wasn't that bad. See? He's a good guy." Nope. You have to work harder than that.

The worst character of the bunch, though, is Jane herself. I like kickass heroines, but I prefer actions to words. Jane brags a lot, describes her weapons, her fighting techniques, her special leather clothes, her speed, her smarts, etc. to no end… *yawns* Then, when it really matters, she's always without them—with the exception of the big fight at the end of the novel where she's fully garbed. She's always talking about how badass she is, but then, whenever there's a fight all she can do is say "shit, shit, shit!" and be rescued by someone else or just dumb luck—while dressed in a skirt and dancing shoes.

She's supposed to be a smartmouth, but to me, she just came across as plain rude. For example, she's exiting some place and someone approaches her with a very short, relevant, yes or no question. She doesn't stop, doesn't answer. She keeps going leaving the person staring after her, starts the bike and leaves thinking "I don't have time for chatting, a plan is forming in my mind." I would be OK with that, except that the very next paragraph starts with "I parked the bike and went inside the house, I had no idea what to do next and I was tired. I started the water for the tea and went to take a long shower. After I was clean and had enjoyed a cup, I dropped into bed and slept." That kind of thing makes no sense. What reason is there to be rude only to go home and sleep? What is this plan she mentions when afterwards she says she has no idea what to do next? This kind of thing happens too often to ignore.

Her P.I. work deserves a paragraph all of its own. I'll give her this: she's a good tracker, maybe even better than a police dog. If you ever misplace something, she's the girl you want to call. All the benefits of a dog coupled with speech. Let's be honest, who wouldn't want a talking dog? But that's all she is. Her IQ is on par with Forrest Gump's. No matter how many clues you give her, she'll never put two and two together. In this novel she literally stumbles upon the bad guy near the end after being pointed in the right direction for the nth time. I had trouble understanding her logic—refer to the previous paragraph for another example—or her difficulty to absorb basic information. If someone approached her and said *nudge, nudge, wink, wink* "you'll find the one you're looking for if you go north" she would go all "wow, I'm getting dizzy with all the complexities of vamp politics. Why can't they be more straightforward and say it like it is?" Then, she would start the bike and turn west saying "I need to find more information about this." There was a lot of head-scratching during this novel.

Beast's voice was sort of interesting for like… three paragraphs, then it became tiresome. "Jump to top of fence. Dropped from fence. Smelled the air. Many smells. Some good smells: dog, cat, chicken, bird. Some bad, human smells: oil, exhaust, asphalt. Yada yada." Imagine reading a whole scene like that. Now a whole chapter. Yeah, I'm getting tired just thinking about it.

So, all in all, this series just wasn't for me. (view spoiler)[Captain Obvious, challenge accepted! (hide spoiler)] It's easier for me to overlook mistakes or inconsistencies in the world than the characters. When I get their background information, I expect them to back it up with actions. If you're supposed to be a smart P.I. with ample knowledge on security, then you can't solve a case by process of elimination like "hey, let's knock on every door. The bad guy is bound to be behind one!"


Unless you're Batman.

If you like UF and think that those snippets I quoted didn't sound bad at all, then definitely give it a chance. Otherwise, I wouldn't recommend it; the whole book is like that.