Book Review: The Host

 

The Host (novel) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m four years late with this book review.  I don’t care.

Stephenie Meyer – the Twilight author – is not a great writer: stilted prose, dated language, and there is not one character in any of her books that hasn’t rolled their eyes at some point.  I find it incredible that she has an English degree.

Which brings me to my Six Word Saturday:

I have come to a conclusion:

You don’t have to be a good writer to be a great storyteller.

I had no internet for much of yesterday so I leafed through my Kindle and found The Host by Stephenie Meyer.  I started it because nothing else tempted me; I could not put it down.  Just like the Twilight books, which I love; but I think I love The Host more.

The most peaceful alien invasion known to sci-fi-kind; an impossible love story; a heroine sweet, adorable but not at all cloying – what’s not to love?  Unlike Bella Swan, who, much as I like her, has my palms itching to slap her and my teeth gritting get a grip every time she bursts into tears, which is often, I want to hug away her grief when Wanda cries.

Meyer’s themes of identity and self-image are pertinent; she is gifted at the unexpected; her characters are likeable.  What a shame her writing is so poor.  

Fortunately, it doesn’t matter: when a book keeps me up until two a.m. because I have to finish it, I say, if the author, publishers and editor don’t worry about the writing, then why should I?

The book is science fiction with barely any science; a love story with no sex; much of the action – if it can be called action – takes place in one dark location.  

Read it.

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To read more Six Word Saturdays, go here.