This smoking shit pile of a novel is the grammatical equivalent to a car wreck.
I didn’t read it as much as I did rubberneck it, waiting to see the next horrific syntax casualty from Miss Bjerke’s borderline-unreadable prose.
With Psycho Unique, Bjerke runs down the poor, unassuming English language as she careens through the page like a trucker guzzling rotgut to take the edge off the crystal meth he just jammed up his bleeding, calloused nostril.
Full disclosure: I did not read much of this novel. I didn’t need to. If an author is too lazy to even attempt to edit their novel, they don’t deserve our efforts to read it. I have better shit to do with my time, like finishing that bottle of gin in the kitchen and regretting all my life choices.
I paused before writing this review. I thought, is this person mentally stable? Is Bjerke a child, perhaps? Then I said to myself, “Someone submitted this unedited horse shit to Horror Novel Reviews, not some no-traffic blog in a lonely corner of the internet handing out five-star reviews for Facebook shares. Welcome to the meat grinder, motherfucker.”
I can forgive a handful of grammar mistakes, but Psycho Unique reads like a first grader’s attempt at scary story time right before the teacher shows the class how to carve Halloween pumpkins.
Bjerke can’t figure out where to put the comma at the end of her dialogue, so we get to read stuff like, “I hated this piece of shit novel” Mack says.
She also doesn’t understand how to conjugate verbs, so we also get plenty of, They had to reads Psycho Unique again so Mack and his friend joins ISIS to get revenge.
I was tempted to, instead of actually writing a review, send an Amazon link for a basic English textbook to Bjerke on Twitter then posting an image of it here, but that would be bad manners.
The worst part about Bjerke’s novel is that it’s one more half-assed story cluttering the Amazon slush pile, making it that much harder for the reader to find a decent indie horror book.