The Girl Who Shot First, Book One of the Death Fields, is a post-apocalyptic thriller in which people are very quickly infected and become vicious with a side dish of cannibalism.
Yeah, it’s one of those books. There are zombie plague like elements, although the victims are less zombie-like and more “I will dine on your face right now rather than amble in your general direction for the next twenty minutes.”
My human enjoys books like this sometimes, and since she has an ear infection right now, she may have enjoyed the prospect of the slow heat death of the universe–wait, murderous plague–more than is likely socially acceptable.
In case this is a concern to any of you, my human read this while attempting to become a mermaid today. She hasn’t figured out taking long baths won’t actually turn her into a mermaid, and I’m not sure how to break the news to her. Reality is a cruel mistress.
So, back to the book.
One thing that really got my human’s attention, and doesn’t usually work for my human, was the way this book weaved between the past and the present. Rather than a direct, on-going narrative, it tells snips of story, melding everything together into a cohesive whole.
This is often why my human will retry things she may not have liked in one book, as she might enjoy it in the other. Mood matters, too. When my human wants to watch the world burn because her ear has declared civil war against the rest of her head, these sorts of books are right up her alley.
My problem with writing the review of this book is that there are a lot of hints that happen early in the title that count as spoilers, and as I’m being a generous feline today, I don’t feel inclined to spoil the read for you.
Using human-standard starring systems, I’m giving this three of four paws, and the tip of my tail is twitching a bit. It was different in style and tense than my human normally reads to me, but we found the story engaging enough. It’s one of those stories my human expects death, doom, and destruction, so unlike other titles, she refused to become attached to anyone or hold hope for good things. This was probably a good decision. It toed a careful line of being engaging and having interesting enough characters.
My human did find many of the characters difficult to relate to, but considering the type of story, this isn’t necessarily a disadvantage. Your mileage will vary though. As for the writing itself, it did the job without distracting from the story, which is all my human needs (or wants) when her ear is waging civil war with the rest of her head.
Now, if my human could let me go back to sleep rather than whining and making me write reviews at 2:30 AM (human time,) that would be great.