Murderland Authored by Garrett Cook
Jeremy Jenkins is a pharmacist living a nightmare. America has made serial killing provisionally legal. What was once a crime is now a game. Juvenile delinquent Reapkids dressed as history’s deadliest murderers roam the streets causing chaos. Cannibal Godless Jack Cavanagh is on every morning show. And Jeremy’s girlfriend Cass, the love of his life, can’t get enough of it. Could be worse. Creatures from another dimension could be infiltrating ours getting our women pregnant. He could live with the guilt of being history’s most prolific serial killer. The fate of a world not worth saving could rest on his broad shoulders. Maybe they are. Maybe he is. Maybe it does.
click link to see the True Reap commence.
I Liked Garrett Cook Before He Became a Legend. Suck On That, World.
By Isobel Irons
I’ll be honest, I waited as long as I possibly could to actually read this book. Because I’ve read enough of this author’s other content to know that, as a writer, reading this book was going to make me feel really bad about myself. And I was right. It did.
To me, that’s the mark of a great novelist. (Not just a good one, but a great one.) The ability to have a really amazing concept that is so simple in its inception that it makes everyone who hears about it go, “Wow, that is a really f—ing great idea. Why the h— didn’t I think of that? I could have written this book first and become so, so famous!” But because this author isn’t just a good writer, but a GREAT one, he quickly squashes that fledgling impulse by executing said concept with such skill and panache, such hard-core bada–ery, that anyone considering ripping off his idea must immediately throw up their hands and go, “Nope! You win, Garrett. You are better than me, at everything.”
Then they just sit back and enjoy the rest of the story. (Which I assure you, is just as excellent as the premise.)
That’s the mark of a good reader, I guess. Sadly, I have never been a good reader. And I’m definitely not as great of a writer as Garrett Cook. But I’m writing this review anyway, as kind of a formal act of surrender. A hundred years from now, when people are still reading and talking about this book, probably in AP Senior English Lit (or whatever kind of classes they have on the moon), I guarantee some smart a– moon-abiding teenager is going to raise his or her hand and be like “I read Murderland before it was assigned.” And the other moon teens will roll their eyes and hate on that futuristic hipster kid because nobody likes a show off.
Anyway, I would’ve given this book five stars, but I deducted one star on grounds of jealousy. Because I’m petty. So sue me.