Many Worlds... One Predictable Plot

If you own an Amazon Kindle, then you may be aware of their First Reads program. Each month, a selection of half-a-dozen-or-so books is offered free to Prime members. Pick one to download, read it later whenever you like. I've been dutifully grabbing a monthly book that sounds interesting for a while now, but had never carved out the time to read one until now.

It turns out, in this instance at least, you get what you pay for.

Infinite is a thriller by Brian Freeman. Protagonist Dylan Moran is in a car accident with two world-shattering ramifications: his wife is killed, and he's convinced he saw himself standing nearby, observing the accident. When he looks to a hypnotherapist for help, he unlocks the ability to travel to parallel worlds. Different Dylan Morans are leading different lives... but one in particular is also a world-hopper, and a homicidal maniac looking to inflict as much damage on his dopplegangers as he can.

Arguably, my synopsis of the book gives a bit too much away, at least given the pace at which the narrative unfolds. I'd say that's the first, most critical flaw of the tale, though: the writer assumes he's much farther out ahead of the reader than is actually the case. The plot is crafted with many moments of "shocking revelation," but few if any of these moments bring any actual surprise; you don't have to have read many thrillers (or many science fiction books) to easily anticipate the way the story is going to go. In particular, the contrived ending comes toward you like a train blaring its horn a mile off from a busy intersection.

I'll admit, surprise isn't everything. The premise itself, of a "multidimensional serial killer," is an intriguing one, and the book was brief and brisk enough that I'd finished it before I ever really gave serious thought to abandoning it. But on the other hand, I think there's little to recommend it beyond the concept itself. The truth is, if it hadn't been so short, I could easily imagine not having finished it.

Some very well-respected writers opt for lean and direct prose, and I have a lot of friends who prefer this sort of writing. But I found Freeman's words so stripped down and straightforward that the moments he did try the occasional literary flourish stuck out awkwardly, as though someone else did a half-hearted polish pass an another writer's manuscript.

Like I said -- you get what you pay for. I paid nothing for Infinite, and I didn't get much more than that. Since I did finish it, and did find the idea compelling enough, I might charitably grade it as high as a C-. But to the degree it's now dulled my interest in sampling any of the other "First Reads" I picked up -- some of which might well be good efforts from lesser-known writers who might conceivably get a boost in sales for their other books -- I should probably rank it a D-or-so, a nod to the disservice done here. By any measure, I wouldn't recommend it.