Preachy and Annoying
I set out to like this book, thinking it'd be a good, creepy read about one of the most terryfiying crimes in modern society. I instead got a preachy tale that got so bad and infuriating that it was almost painful to read at points. I'm sorry, but it was hard not to get angry when anti-gun statistics are printed in bold at the bottom of every mother lovin' page. Okay, we get, the author is anti-gun! Please move on! Beyond just contrasting with my own views on gun ownership, which is a massive understatment, there's isn't a whole lot of character depth. The freaking shooters are more sympathetic than the jocks they shoot at. That isn't supposed to happen. You cannot spend the whole book detailing why the shooters aren't two dimensiional, mustache twirling villians, treat the jocks as exactly that, and expect our sympathies to suddenly switch over. The jocks have NO redeeming qualities that would make us want them to have any other fate than to get their asses blown off by the people whose lives they've got out of their way to make a living hell.