"I Am Trying To Write A Poem That Doesn't Scream Your Name"

I Read the Highest and Lowest Rated Books I Own

2/21/25 

I love buying books more than I love reading them. The oldest books on my shelf are from middle school, and some of those elite remain unread. In October I had a realization - if I continued to read and buy books at my current rate, then by the time I die I will have accumulated thousands of books, having only read a rough ten percent of that collection. To combat this issue, I donated several books and started reading more intently. I enjoy perusing BookTube and a recent trend has been uprising, a challenge where a reader finds the lowest-rated book and the highest-rated book in their library and reads them back to back. 

I was enthralled by this concept! I had so many books in my library that sat unread for years. What would be the lowest-rated book, and what would be the highest-rated? How would they compare? I rummaged through my library, cataloging every book, and then with my complete list, I scrambled to Goodreads to see the results. I cataloged my collection in October and at the time the lowest-rated book on my shelf was Mister B. Gone by Clive Barker with an average star rating of 3.35. The highest rated book in my collection was Dungeon Crawler Carl by Matt Dinniman with an average of 4.53. I was excited to dive into the challenge, but school got in the way and I hit a depressive slump in November (I wonder why that was). 

By the time January came around I was excited to complete the challenge. Only I now had more books in my library that I got over Christmas. If I were a normal person, I would have just read the original two I had selected and called it a day. But I enjoy intense suffering, so after cataloging my new books I returned to Goodreads with not-so-surprising results. 

The highest-rated book in my library was now The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson with an average of 4.67 and the lowest-rated book was now Stones to Abbigale by Onision with an average of 1.87. If you know any information about these two books or these two authors, you know how they contrast each other. 

I hear the name Brandon Sanderson a lot in writing circles. He’s known for his writing courses and his stellar fantasy novels. People I know and trust rave about him, so he’s been on my TBR for a while now. The Way of Kings is the first Sanderson novel I have ever obtained and this particular copy happened to be 1250 pages long. Onision is famous for other reasons. Onision, or Gregory James Daniel, or James Jackson, depending on where you look, is a disgraced YouTuber who has been accused of grooming children and sexual assault. I’m not well versed on the controversy, but his books have made the rounds on BookTube and are infamously bad. Like Sanderson, I had never read Onision’s work, but the 1.87 rating scared me. The Goodreads user base tends to be very kind with their reviews. To find anything below 3 stars is very concerning. 

Stones to Abbigale by Onision

This novel is about a teenager named James who falls in love with his classmate, Abbi. In terms of plot, there’s not a lot else going on. Instead of a typical narrative, James stumbles from one plot point to another without real motivations or goals. Even events that should hold weight, such as a school shooting, feel arbitrary and meaningless. The only thing James thinks about is Abbi. James has no interesting traits, despite being told by the author how many good qualities James has, and despite every character riding his dick for the majority of the novel. You got James’s mom who lets him do whatever he wants, Abbi who exists just so James can save her and feel good about himself, Davis who is secretly in love with James, Jason the school bully who hates James but respects him nonetheless, and his teachers who worship the ground he walks on. 

This book is insulting on so many levels. Very real and horrible subjects are shoe-horned in to make the novel feel serious but are handled with the conception of a pre-teen edge lord, the characters are laughably unbelievable, the narrative is pretentious, and eighty percent of the novel is dead weight. It’s hard to justify some plot points when you have characters to sympathize with. But none of these characters were likable, the main character had no goal, no motivations, and no character arc, and the majority of the novel was crammed with trivial plot points that didn’t matter. Why did I read this? I thought, after finishing it. What was the point? Why did Onision write it? What was this novel trying to convey? What was it trying to do? Because it left me stunned, irritable, and unsatisfied. 

At one point I was so frustrated I ripped a page out of the book, crumpled it, threw it in the toilet, pissed on it, and flushed it. I sent an explicit text message to my sister afterward describing this event, only to discover I accidentally texted a high-strung conservative Christian relative of mine. Nothing good comes from this goddamn book. Had I not been reading it for a blog post, I would have DNF’d 20 pages in. 

I didn’t write much about Stones to Abbigale in this post. Part of that is because I finished the novel over a month ago and the details aren’t fresh in my mind. The bigger reason is that I was so inflamed with hatred I gave Stones to Abbigale a separate blog post, which you can read here for a more comprehensive review. 

Score: 0 Stars

The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson 

I have a love/hate relationship with fantasy novels. They are so easy to screw up, and my first venture into the fantasy realm left me so scarred I didn’t read another fantasy novel for years. At the same time, I heard a lot of buzz surrounding Sanderson, so I entered the Way of Kings cautiously stoked. 

The novel takes place in a land called Alethkar five years after the assassination of the former king Gavilar by a mysterious people called the Parshendi. Now the two lands are at war across the Shattered Plains and the novel switches between three main narrators, Kaladin, Shallan, and Dalinar. Kaladin is a former surgeon’s apprentice and soldier but is now branded a slave, forced to carry bridges from plateau to plateau for the war effort. Shallan is a young girl whose father died, leaving Shallan and her brothers in immense debt. To combat this debt and prevent the desolation of her family, Shallan seeks to become the ward of Jasnah, the daughter of the late King Gavilar, and the sister of the new king, Elhokar. Shallan plans to rob Jasnah of a mystical object called a soulcaster and use it to generate new wealth for her family. Dalinar is the brother of Gavilar and the advisor of King Elhokar, his nephew. Dalinar is studying the ancient texts referred to as the Way of Kings and is also plagued with visions he doesn’t fully understand. Because of this, many question his power, and Dalinar must watch his back very closely if he is going to unite Alethkar and end the war. 

This book is complicated and long. If that’s not your vibe don’t pick this one up. I have the attention span of a gnat, so when reading long books I have to hit them hard and fast before my attention wanes and I move on to something else. I find this isn’t typically a fault of the novel itself, I have experienced this several times with some of my favorite books. With the Way of Kings, I sometimes read 200 pages in one day, while some days I read nothing. I managed to finish the novel within a month. I found my attention draining in the third quarter of the story. 

The Way of Kings is well flushed out but it takes a long time to get from plot point to plot point. Sometimes the slow pace felt necessary and other times I questioned it. Kaladin’s flashback chapters were interesting but how necessary were they? The interlude chapters partially confused me. Having finished the book, I don’t believe the interlude chapters contributed much outside of Szeth’s chapters, as I believe Szeth will contribute a larger role in the next book. I went back and forth on it, but now I know the pace is adequate, however, if you’re into shorter novels please look elsewhere. 

I liked Shallan and Kaladin’s perspectives more than Dalinar’s. Dalinar’s storyline was interesting and important to the overall story, but compared to the other two narrators it was hard to care much about him. Shallan and Kaladin are more desperate because they aren’t royalty, and much of the story focuses on how little power they have and why they struggle with their inner and outer obstacles. Dalinar’s story pales in comparison. 

I will say this book has the same problem that many fantasy and sci-fi novels have; the world-building is so complicated that it can sometimes get confusing. I’m still not entirely sure I understand who the Heralds were or where Shards came from, which is more my fault than the story’s, but I thought I would mention it so any potential readers know that this is a dense, slow-paced novel. 

That being said, I loved it. I thoroughly enjoyed the first half, the third quarter dragged a bit, but the final act of the novel left my jaw on the floor. The spine of this novel was so cracked that pages were spilling out. I was jumping up from my chair, mouth agape, my mind reeling. I paced my house in between chapters trying to digest what the fuck just happened before diving back in. Trying to explain the ending to the uninitiated is like trying to explain Avengers Endgame to someone who has never seen a Marvel movie. 

I have to take a break from this series because it’s so dense, but I will be returning for the sequel with a vengeance. This book is thoughtful and patient and the final act made all the waiting worth it. My rating would be higher, but I deducted points for the third quarter where my attention was burning away like a candle wick. 

Score: 4.5/5 Stars

It was wild to go from one of the worst shortest books I’ve ever read to the most wild and dense. You should do the same with your library, but maybe don’t overcommit like I did. Have fun!

Rick Stepp (irresponsibleink@gmail.com)

There's a difference between "this novella needed to be novel length for the story to feel complete" and "I enjoyed this novella so much that I wish it was novel length" and people confuse those often.

Reminder that when you break the law, cops come and drag you to jail. When oligarchs and their minions break the law, several lawsuits are filed, while they're left to continue breaking laws.

The mythos of our "checks and balances" is being ripped apart before our eyes. There is no balance. Only meaningless security theater that does not impede their disastrous actions at all.

🌍✨ A Voice from Gaza: Holding onto Hope ❤️‍🩹

Hi, my name is Mosab, and I just want to take a moment to say thank you. Your kindness, your generosity, and your willingness to listen have meant more to me and my family than I can ever express.

When I first shared my story, I didn’t know what to expect. I was scared, exhausted, and uncertain if anyone would care. But you did. You showed up. And because of you, hope feels a little less distant today.

💛 Our Journey So Far

With your support, we’ve been able to find small moments of relief in the midst of overwhelming hardship. Every donation, every share, and every kind message has given us the strength to keep going.

But our struggle isn’t over. Every day, we are reminded of what we’ve lost and the challenges that still lie ahead.

🏠 Still Searching for Stability: We are doing everything we can to secure a safe and steady future. 😢 The Pain of Loss Never Fades: The absence of 25 loved ones weighs heavily on us every day. 💔 Dreams Still on Hold: Survival takes all our strength, but we still believe in rebuilding.

🚀 How You Can Help Us Keep Going

Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:

💛 A $10 donation may seem small, but to us, it’s a lifeline. 💛 A reblog can help us reach someone who can support us.

If you can’t donate, just sharing this post helps more than you know. Every share is another chance for someone to see our story, to care, and to help.

Chuffed

Donate to Help Mosab saving who's left of his family

My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Life as I knew it has been completely destroyed. I have lost my home, my

🙏 You Are Part of Our Story

Your support isn’t just about donations—it’s about reminding us that we are not forgotten. That there is still kindness in the world. That even in the darkest times, there are people who care.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for helping us get this far. You are part of our story now.

With love and endless gratitude, Mosab and Family ❤️

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN

S01 E01 : Heaven's Half Hour | dir. Justin Benson & Aaron Moorhead

My boy-rbie

They don't want us speaking out against genocide. They don't want us speaking out against the rich and powerful. They don't want us speaking out against our bosses. They don't want us trying to end homelessness. They don't want us growing our own food. They don't want us to have healthcare. They don't want us fighting for our own lives and they don't want us to say anything about it.

Born Again Put a Bullet in My Childhood

*Born Again Spoilers*

The return of the Man Without Fear not only broke my heart, it signifies the end of my childhood. The bullet fired by Benjamin Pointdexter went straight through its victim and into the last bit of nostalgia I held for my younger years. 

I was twelve years old in April of 2015. The concept of a streaming service was still new to me, and I expected the first Marvel/Netflix show to be reminiscent of a low-budget fan series. I was going through a lot at the time. My parents were getting divorced, my grandfather was sick with cancer, and my family was on the verge of being homeless. On April 10th, my father and I stayed at my grandad’s house. Grandad was at the hospital because his lung cancer had taken a turn for the worst, and I curled up on the worn couch as spring air filtered in from the open window and my Dad sat down with a grunt in the recliner. My Dad turned on the show and I was enthralled. 

I had never seen a superhero show that felt so adult, so real, so slick, and complicated and heavy. I related to Matt Murdock, someone who always seemed to have some sort of obstacle ahead of him. I related to Matt’s boyhood counterpart who was concerned about his father making the rent payments on time. I related to being small, consumed with the big mysterious world that can change at any moment with various levels of stability. I liked that Matt Murdock kept going, no matter how bad things got. 

Two days later, I was sitting in my bedroom late at night, watching the infamous episode “Nelson V. Murdock” on my Wii console, legs folded under me, chewing my nails as Charlie Cox and Elden Hensen cried on screen. I was still thinking about that episode the next morning as we drove to Grandad’s house. Later that day, the police called informing us that our house had been robbed. My TV and Wii console were both stolen along with all our other possessions. The drawers in my bedroom were pulled free and clothes were strewn about. Looking at my room, I felt naked. There were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle decals on my walls and I wondered if the thieves looked at them when they came into my room. I wonder if they felt bad about stealing from a child and I knew they probably didn’t. Two days after that, we were officially evicted. 

In 2018, I was an angry teenager. My mother was getting remarried and I didn’t like the guy. I didn’t like that we were moving or that I wouldn’t see my friends as much anymore, even though they didn’t feel like my friends at the time. Most of them treated me like shit because we were all young and unhappy about something. I was suicidal but I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling. I pretended to be happy all the time and that made it worse. The new season of Daredevil was the only good thing I had going on in my life. I coveted the episodes, watching one every other week, taking my time. When the series was canceled I was halfway through the season. I stopped watching it and I wouldn’t finish it until 2024. I didn’t want the story to be over. I didn’t want to say goodbye to Matt, Karen, and Foggy, my only real friends. 

Recently, I’ve been struggling with the concept of growing up. I’m twenty-two years old and I’m in a weird space where I’m not a kid but I also don’t feel like an adult. It feels like I stopped aging in 2020. I keep reminiscing, thinking to myself “Things used to be better,” even though I know that isn’t true. I’m in college, I’m in therapy, I’m on medication, and life is good. Yet, I can’t seem to move on from periods of my life that have passed. I find myself dreaming about my childhood home and places I lived in my teens. They’re always altered, mashed together like some fucked-up Winchester mystery house. 

For years I wanted Daredevil to return. The original series was the postmark of my adolescence. Matt, Foggy, and Karen did more for me during the worst parts of my life than most of my friends have. I wanted to see them again. It was so weird when I got my wish. Tuesday night, I assembled the best bar food I could find, spicy chicken wings, fries, mozzarella sticks, a big juicy burger, and three ice-cold bottles of Coors Light. I set my favorite Daredevil comics and Funko figurines around my television set and placed my fancy chair right in front of it. Seeing Matt, Foggy, and Karen together again was like a dream or a hallucination. And none of that compared to the shock of seeing Foggy gunned down in the street. Hand covering my mouth, food getting cold next to me, and my cousin crying on speakerphone, I watched one of my best friends bleed to death on screen. 

I’m a sensitive person and I tend to overthink. I like drawing connections, even if they don’t make complete sense sometimes. In the aftermath of the Born Again pilot episode, sitting on my chair and staring at the ceiling, I realized something: I can finally move on. In some odd, fucked up way, seeing my three favorite comfort characters together again, and seeing one of them die, has given me a sense of closure on my childhood. No TV show was meant to last forever. I’m glad the 2015 Daredevil series died a hero before it could become a villain, and I’m glad the new series is taking a different route.  Seeing a definitive end to the original series is permission for me to let go of my unhappy adolescent years and move on. I’m grateful for that, and I know that Born Again is going to make me cry more in the future. 

Tonight, I will drink to Nelson, Murdock, and Page and all they’ve done for a lonely kid.

Rick Stepp (irresponsibleink@gmail.com)

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?

Harvey and Lukas Gage dancing it up on the set of Companion.