If you've ever experimented with AI-generated text, you'll recognize it instantly from this book. The cliches and overused stock phrases are distracting from the narrative. Instead of a raw account of a woman - surrounded by a family of abusive robbers and violent addicts - making the best (or worst) of her life in various barrios, and being a self-confessed promiscuous chola gang member, you end up wondering where she learned such over-the-top purple prose.
Every good thing in Juarez's life is attributed to magical thinking - mainly God and how she is special and chosen - even by her infamous uncle. She claims it's not about him, but why would anyone read this if he wasn't the sales hook? Why are all her podcast appearances focused on the man who it's definitely not about?
It's grandiose rambling fed and regurgitated through ChatGPT or a similar large language model. Every person in the book drifts around like shadows and storm clouds, every person's jaw is tight, people "walk into secrets", sentences say a lot but go nowhere, and all the walls are vibrating with tension.
It's sad that writers don't use their own voices anymore. Type any event from your life into ChatGPT, ask it to make it sound like a story and voila, your text will have the same style and phrases as the talentless Juarez. It feels fraudulent.