Just Another Perfectionist > Recent Status Updates

My DNF point of no return's reached.
I'm only so strong or patient.

No chemistry nor romance.
Bland leads AND secondary characters (Jess' bff shouting "BABIESBABIESBABIES" as a real line would haunt me).
Repetitive writing.
Nothing substantial or interesting as conflict to keep the plot going.
No depth to any of the subjects.

“I’ve read files on your mom, and I’ve seen her picture. She’s a good-looking woman. I can see why my father would be attracted to your mother. She’s a beautiful woman, still is, and I’m rather obsessed with her daughter. You do have some resemblance to your mom.”



Sometimes some things should not be said out loud. TRISTIAN.

"We talked. We were friends."

WHY the avoidance of showing the main leads bonding and talking for once.
All we've seen so far of them is bad banter (with mansplaining), dubious almosts (where hero doesn't really read the room or pick up on cues) and a rushed, random sex scene.
There's no actual chemistry to justify all the pinning and 'must have been soulmates in other lives' talk.

That drive to her place was a bubble. A brief moment in time where we were in between who she was and who I was, and we were able to connect for a shared purpose. I felt like I’d been given a gift because she wasn’t tense with me. It was like she gave herself permission during that drive to be herself, and it’d been the best car ride I’d ever been on.
We laughed. We talked. We were friends.

SHOW US THEN-

“Why did you decide to come?”
He didn’t answer at first.
He didn’t answer in the next minute, or the next five.
Ten.
It was a full thirty minutes later.
“Because when it comes to you, I have absolutely no fucking control over myself.”

HE WAITED 30 MINS TO ANSWER HER (like some spongebob ('__ minutes later' meme) and with the most obvious reply too.

“Walk!” He didn’t wait. Moving so he was blocking my view from his best friend, his eyes drilled into mine. “I’m going to let go of your hand, and I’m going to back up and give you space. Don’t shoot me.”

The dramatism to this situation makes no sense.
All Ashton did was badly warn her to leave him alone.
Now Tristian is acting like she's going to start shooting at him bcs she's that on edge.

“Get out of my face, while I’m not feeling murderous right now.”
I reacted without thinking. That was a threat and, tossing my drink, my hand went for my weapon. I always wore it, or at least most of the time. At the same time, someone screamed, and suddenly someone else was at our side.

Did she... think Ashton would kill her in front of all these people?
So she just pulls out her gun? AT A PARTY?
Man.

Why was there not a pool here as well? Perhaps on the other side of the estate?
I was being sarcastic.

Thanks for explaining the very obvious sarcasm, Jess.
Also is it sarcasm if you then PROCEED TO LOOK FOR A POOL?

He laughed, stepping out first to a back patio area. Beyond was a myriad of walking paths made of cobblestone. A large fountain was in the middle. Beyond was a horse pasture fenced in by white posts. I glimpsed a tennis court to the side.
Beyond this, beyond that.
Repetitiveness, so much repetitiveness.

Also, she's so set on finding a pool in this scene, for no damn reason.
Maybe that's another hobby...

“Please tell me your other half is not present today.”
Now he was amused. I could tell as he tried hiding a quick grin. “At this rate it seems like he’s more like your other half.”

That would be kinda funny as dialogue.
And it was, until I remembered Tristian is literally stalking her 24/7 to a point she has to ask if he's around.

There were rich people everywhere.

I knew they were because they had the rich-people speak. The “oh haw-haw” or the “Insert name, dawrrrling, how are youuuu?” or the “lovely” and “gracious me” and the laughs. Fake and forced and uppity. I knew my rich people, and I was surrounded by them.

THAT LAST SENTENCE. AHAHaH. goddamn writing.

I continued down the stairs. “Nope. Good luck. Though, she doesn’t abuse you when she starts drinking again. Have fun with this new Chelsea Montell. Enjoy it as long as it lasts, because it will end. And when it does, she’s a bitch.”

Her mom sucks. Jess sucks. EVERYBODY SUCKS.
I don't understand why she even visits her mother at this point

“This. It has to stop. My job gives me purpose in life, and you’re eroding that. I can’t change what I’ve already done, but this can’t happen again. It does and I’ll quit Katya. I don’t want to, but I will if I need to.”

So WHICH job are we really talking about...
She seems more busy with bartending than anything and doesn't exactly follow the law or have strict morals as a PO.

She was rattled. It was the only reason why she wasn’t thinking about where I had found her and why she wasn’t demanding to know how I knew she’d be there.



Jesus. WHY WOULD SHE EVEN ASK?
When you have been stalking her for months. At this point it's a given you'd know where she is.

More riveting writing.

My own climax ripped through me, and I groaned, feeling my release going through my body too.

Man essentially told us he came in two different ways all in the same sentence.

The way locations get described as layout and shift based on the needs of the scene, as example the art studio she's painting at, is always so confusing and vague, almost like the author herself cannot imagine what the place looks like.
Like no joke, at one point a counter spawns out of thin air just bcs the hero needs it.

And now comes in the magically appearing hammer.
IT JUST SPAWNS IN HER HAND OUT OF NOWHERE.

I groaned, my mouth taking hers, hoping she wasn’t going to hit me with a hammer or some other weapon.
[...]
Her mouth opened under mine. The hammer dropped.

If it's meant to be some sort of weird metaphor, it's not coming off as one. For the life of me I don't get when she even grabbed a hammer.

Jess suddenly has a random hobby she forgot all about until she needed an outlet for her sexual frustration...

Her head was down. She had paint covering her hands, her arms, her shoulders.
She dipped her hand into the paint and turned to the canvas, going at it.

I cannot help but imagine her messy-painting with her hands like a child, especially with how 'serious' she is about art.

“Having said that, I do not want to ever know about what you do for your family. I cannot know. Do you get me?”
“You just asked.”
I had.
I didn’t care. Shit was swirling in my head. Impending doom and shame were right behind it, going through me, filling me up

SHE HAS GOT SHIT IN HER HEAD.
Who thought that was a good metaphor?

It went against every moral value ingrained inside of me, why I became a parole officer.

Let's see...

Breaking & Entering? Theft?
Threatening a civilian for dating your best friend?
Pulling a gun on a civilian at a party?
Flashing your badge when it's not needed?
Taking your aunt back to the house of her abuser as BACKUP instead of calling the actual police?

MORAL VALUES? Code of conduct? WHAT IS THAT?

Tristian goes from 'I'm killing this guy slowly because he laid his hands onto someone you share blood with' to "somehow I’d try and make sure Jess would make it out alive. Her aunt wouldn’t. I didn’t know who else Stephano would kill, but not Jess."

Three small children are involved in this.
AND HE GIVES NO FUCKS ABOUT THEM.
Uncle can kill anyone, but Jess.

Jess is giving heroes a run for their money with how much she GROWLS.

I growled before pulling my gun right back out.
I growled again, this time more feral.
A low growl was building in my throat, and I brought up my hands to shove him away.

All within the same chapter without any big breaks inbetween.
If you told me she's turning into a werewolf, it would make more sense.

“If you hurt her—” He turned to look at me squarely. I kept going: “—I’ll do something to make you stand before a judge. You hear me? Do not fuck with her.”

A member of law enforcement threatens to 'frame' a guy who just started dating her best friend.
Reason? NONE.
He's done nothing wrong.
Then she'd talk how Trace has made her into a criminal. When she herself is fine doing questionable things.

The rest of the night was me filling orders, getting hit on by a few guys and a couple girls, and also being called “bitch” six times because I didn’t take someone’s order fast enough.

She has worked there for FOUR YEARS and she can't even describe fixing drinks or doing her job, like anytime she's at the club it's to have conflict with the hero or talk with her friends.

The dialogue just gives NOTHING. You're constantly hit by leffort writing, short repeated lines, all so the obvious can be said out loud instead of being shown in a better, more subtle way.

“You staying?”
He was quiet before a long, “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
I stood, grabbing my coat.
“That’s it? You’re leaving?”

Even the heroine's boss, who is a PO too, waits around for her to tell him someone injured needs medical help.
The cast would be useless at helping anyone without Jess and Trace to instruct them.

“She—she wasn’t like this when I stepped outside. She’d been drinking and she was angry, going on a rant about you. There’s a bunch of plates downstairs on the floor. She must’ve stepped on them.”

I’d been keeping tabs on her, but this place was new.
She’d deviated.

She needs to deviate straight to the police station next and report his ass.
HE IS WATCHING HERRR, YOU ALL.
Always watching.
All this because of ONE KISS.
I'm gonna keep bringing that up, bcs it's so ridiculous as reasoning to his unhinged behavior.

Riveting writing, folks.

It was a week later, and I was watching her.
I was always watching her, but I stayed away.
Still, I watched. I could do that much.

Did we mention HE IS WATCHING HER?
If you've missed the memo, Trace would be happy to repeat it 10 more times.

Trace's attempts at giving Joe Goldberg a run for his money

- texts her from different numbers 'to talk' after she blocks each one
- hires a PI to stalk her
- shows up at her favorite bowling spot to approach her
- then regularly sits in the bar to 'watch her without her noticing' while she works
- continues to 'watch her' despite Jess telling him she's done with him over the whole 'being a criminal'

The author LOVES to repeat already established things so so much, to a point it's like 'where were the editors'.

The car door was still open, but Pajn had pulled the vehicle over.

a sentence later:

The door was still open, and she reached for it, but she didn’t get out yet.

GEE, is the door by chance STILL OPEN?
And if it's open, why would she need to reach for it as if to OPEN IT?
Sense? None.