Just reactions to books I read. I don't really summarize the book's content, because how hard is it to click on the cover and read the description?
So I just write my response.
I opened the book. The pages were made from paper that had once grown wild in the forests of Oregon, until a lumberjack with a plaid jacket started his chainsaw and cut it down.
Many years ago, I saw a tree fall. It was a Douglas fir, which had been oddly named after the naturalist David Douglas, though it was not he, but his rival who had discovered the species long ago in the mist-shrouded and verdant hills of Vancouver Island. My heart had wrenched in my chest when I saw that noble pine tumble, but I knew there would be a message in that tree's demise.
But no message ever came. Perhaps the message would be found on the paper many years later, after it was pulped and processed by humanity's machines.
That's pretty much how the book went. Something small would happen--"I opened a door"--but then the narrative went somewhere else and the action was left hanging pages back.
I enjoy Koontz's work, usually. He's always added interesting bits of info and research into his story lines, but that info never seemed to get in the way of the story. I can't say the same for this book. The descriptions became tedious. It wouldn't have been so bad if those descriptions had moved the story forward or revealed more about a character or the horror of a situation, but they didn't -- and pages would pass before the story moved forward again.
I liked the concept. I liked the reveal. I could have done without the endless descriptions of every building, tunnel, and location the characters visited. It seemed that half of the flashbacks could have been removed and the paragraphs of descriptions pared to a few sentences without altering or damaging the story.