A Frustrating Read (An ARC copy in exchange for an honest review).
_The Trauma Machine_ by Brent G. Spaulding is a new novel published by Story Grid Publishing, a house born out of the Story Grid writing method/writing community created by Shawn Coyne and Tim Grahl. They bill their novels as “category-of-1 stories that will touch the reader and change their lives.” But after reading this, I was pretty disappointed that it didn’t live up to the hype. It definitely isn’t a “category-of-1” book. And the only way it touched me was to make me feel frustrated and cheated.
I must begin with the unfortunate admission that I would have DNF’d this novel right after I read the Prologue. To say that this prologue was unnecessary is an understatement. It does nothing for the story that follows it, except establish what the title of the novel does well: inform the reader that there is something called a “trauma machine,” and that it will be a complication during the story. That’s all. It does introduce a “character” who is named, but is more of a plot convention than a character, who holds a minuscule and unnecessary part in the story. And in no way are the events in the Prologue ever revisited in the rest of the novel. I was so irritated that I almost put the book down for good before I even got to Chapter One. My advice: skip this prologue entirely.
Chapter One begins the true plot, which falls into the genre of Garden-Variety Time Travel. If you’ve read or seen any stories that feature time travel, you probably know how convoluted and impossible/improbable they can become. In that regard, _The Trauma Machine_ does not disappoint. It adds nothing to the genre except yet another story about yet another bumbling time traveler who finds solving his problems in the past isn’t as easy as fixing a single event (like Back to the Future but without any of the charm). But on this level, the author doesn’t explore the time paradox paradigm in an effective way. He chooses to focus mainly on the main character without exploring the concept behind the jabberwock (his time travel machine), or the “ripple effect” his decisions have on the broader world. Sadly, for big fans of Time Travel Science-Fiction, this novel completely misses the mark by treating the actual time travel as an afterthought, a plot convention. Yet most of us want some *science* in our Science-Fiction.
In addition, this novel has such a sparse cast of characters that I felt it would have made a much better short story or novella than a full novel. While the main character (who is both the protagonist and the antagonist, one of the few interesting developments here) feels kinetic and fleshed-out (albeit with some stereotypes), the rest of the characters are two-dimensional and fully stereotypical (the younger sister who is more mature, the overprotective aunt, the alcoholic father, the best friend who’s a bad influence, etc.), And no character, including the MC, really has a satisfying internal arc. There is no growth, no catharsis, no emotional impact. They just play their parts in the global plot. No one except the MC displays any real humanity or convincing emotion. And he just calls himself “stupid” throughout the story and obliterates any attachment the reader may have for him with his actions as his own antagonist.
It’s clear that the novel is mired in the “Story Grid method,” which emphasizes theme over story to the point that the plot becomes insignificant. The truly interesting aspects of the story, the technology of the jabberwock and the time paradox paradigm, suffer and take a back seat to the five commandments of storytelling, double-factor complication, just-in-time and least-viable exposition (which means you don’t get to flesh-out story concepts) and so on. What’s more, the plot loses itself, establishing the novel as a cautionary tale yet miraculously pulling out a happy ending. It got to be incredibly frustrating during the middle build when the plot conventions began to be openly predictable. By the ending payoff, it became blatantly obvious what the MC was going to do, given that he was his own antagonist and basically had to defeat himself. Yet there was no catharsis because, due to his characterization as the antagonist, I didn’t care what happened to him anymore. “Just kill the fucking kid” became wholly ironic in the end.
The last detail that bothered me about the way this book was written is how the author never explored the concept of the “trauma machine” at all throughout the novel. Aside from the confusing, unnecessary Prologue, it is never mentioned within the actual story. The reader is left to assume, then just finds out at the very end—literally the last couple of pages—what the trauma machine is in relation to the events of the plot. When I read the prologue (not to mention the title), I expected the trauma machine to have an integral, and hopefully thought-provoking, connection to the global story. When it was simply defined at the end, the revelation was so unsatisfying that I actually felt cheated. It will keep me from reading another work from this author.
A few words about the editing: Story Grid Publishers felt it important enough to credit their CEO, Tim Grahl, as the editor, with a featured byline on the cover (immediate red flag to me if this hadn’t been an ARC). Yet the book is peppered with typos and syntax errors that are more than just simple mistakes that break immersion. Take this example sentence from Chapter One: “He imagined his sister’s glare, reminding him again how, with him at twenty-six and four years her senior, she had still ended up the more mature sibling, the big sister to her older brother.” Notwithstanding that this is a run-on sentence that takes five whole phrases to establish the sister’s stereotype, it creates a confusing ambiguity with the description, “with him at twenty-six and four years her senior.”
This actually tells the reader, grammatically, that the MC is 30 years older than his sister! It probably should have been expressed as, “with him at twenty-six years of age, four years her senior,” because later in the very same beat, the author tells us that the MCs best friend, whom he went to school with (what I thought was) thirty years prior, *dated* his little sister (YIKES!). It’s only chapter one and I’m now wondering what kind of creeps the MC and his best friend are. It isn’t until page 145 that this ambiguity is cleared up, after I spent dozens of pages wondering how this young woman could even have the same mother as her middle-aged brother to begin with, given the chronology of the events involved. To me, this isn’t the type of confusion an author wants in his *time travel* novel. And this is by far not the only mistake that leads to confusion.
All in all, _The Trauma Machine_ was a frustrating read, full of long, drawn-out passages that contributed very little to the progression of the plot, with cardboard supporting characters that didn’t add any real humanity or emotion, and a predictable second half that trainwrecked into an unsatisfying ending. The Story Grid method does have some rudimentary concepts for beginning authors struggling to construct a workable plot. But as a strict formula for writing a novel, as is displayed here, it leaves the true story behind and allows some compelling science-fiction concepts to fall flat in the service of trying to be a “category-of-1 book” and change the reader’s outlook of the world.