I listened to the book The Dangerous Days of Daniel X on CD, not long after it came out.  I was making a trip–driving several hours–to visit a friend, and the book was read by Milo Ventigmilia (I ❤ him!) so I figured I’d give it a try.

Now, The Mother likes James Patterson’s adult fiction, for the most part, but she’d commented from time to time that his books got a little…weird.

I guess I should have expected more of the weird-factor with his teen fiction.  Especially with that kind of a title.

But anyway, I listened to the book and while it wasn’t my normal kind of “read,” I enjoyed it for what it was.  Or, I think I did anyway.  I have fond memories of Milo’s voice but not much else really stuck with me, other than the title.

So when I heard that a second book was coming out, I was mildly interested.  I looked first to see if a book-on-CD was being released and if so, if Milo was on board again.  Now, it looks like it will indeed be rolling out this summer but when I first looked, I didn’t see anything & decided to check it out, just for kicks, anyway.

This time around, actually reading the book rather than listening to it, I was reminded why I generally do not like James Patterson.  Dude has a production line for books.  He gets these other people to write most–if not all–of a book then throws his name on there.  See above:  JAMES PATTERSON & ned rust.  According to a USA Today article, Book Buzz: What’s new on the list and in publishing, Patterson “just signed a 17-book deal calling for him to write (or co-write) 11 books for adults and six for young adults — all by the end of 2012.”  That means that over the span of 27 months, he has to pump out 17 books.  In other words, about every month and a half, he needs to finish a book.  Anyone who has ever sat down with the intention of writing a book, knows that it is a process; it takes time.  When you’re working against the clock, your work may suffer.  Patterson’s work is definitely suffering.

I’ve read a few of his older books and there is a difference between then and now, for sure.  He’s always been popular fiction–never literary–but it’s gone down hill, as the rate at which he’s published has increased.  It’s all about the money–as it always is.  It’s sad, really.

But back to this book specifically.  It was beyond disappointing.  It was little more than a stream of consciousness, coming from a teenage boy.  It was as if he could do anything, be anywhere, have anything he wanted… The main character has the power of his imagination, basically, so if he wants to see his dead family, he imagines them and *poof* there they are; if he needs a car, he imagines it and *poof* there it is.  It is, for lack of a better word, annoying.  And poorly written, too.  It feels very much like what I imagine a boy’s dreams might feel like.

I’m thinking about conducting a little experiment.  When the book-on-CD comes out, with Milo reading it, I might check it out from the library.  I wonder if I’ll like it more when I can listen to his pretty voice and not have to look at the author’s choppy sentences?