As I'm writing this, I'm grinding my teeth for having wasted money on the hardcover addition. The book borrows heavily from previous Koontz novels (remember
Phantoms?), including the other three Frankenstein novels, a couple of movies, and of course the Bible.
The novel's problem isn't that it lacks action. The problem is that it gives you no reason to care that there is any action. The characters are so paper-thin and the dialogue so frustratingly sub-par, I wanted to skip whole pages until the dialogue ended. And the aforementioned action occurred in the last 25 pages. The book's chapters are 2 or 3 pages long, most paragraphs only 2-3 sentences, and there is a dearth of descriptive narrative.
What's new? A unoriginal 'creature' is introduced, a creation of the Victor-clone (which if you haven't figured out that Victor is a clone in the first 20 pages, then shame on you). This new creature is called a Builder. The Builder is composed of nanoanimals (a.k.a. nanobots, tiny autonomous machines). The Builders are super-strong, can change their shapes and attack flesh and blood and anything inorganic, repair themselves, create more nanoanimals, or transform themselves to look like playmates and/or playgirls. In other words, very hot men and women.
If this sounds just like the nanoanimals in the remake of
The Day the Earth Stood Still (Two-Disc Widescreen Edition), whereby Gort transforms from a solid object to a whirlwind of nanoanimals, it's because they literally are. Whether or not Koontz saw the movie, the Builders are mini-Gorts. Composed entirely of nanoanimals, they can consume anything in their path. Including the plot.
The Victor-clone is an utter conundrum, and he is written as being utterly insane, so you end up not caring what happens to him because you can't relate to how he thinks or behaves. He wants to destroy the human race, then destroy the creatures that destroyed the human race, then commit suicide once everyone is dead. That's his master plan. Wow. That's the best Koontz can come up with? It's so amazingly silly you're not sure if you should laugh or cry or ask for your money back.
And why does he want to turn Earth into a human-free world just like Gort was doing before Klaatu (played by Keanu Reeves) stopped him/them/it? Lots of mumbo-jumbo about a tree falling in the woods and if it makes a sound if no one is around to hear it. We, apparently, are the trees in the forest. Once again, no suspension of disbelief.
The book is short, like all his recent books. Remember when he wrote four- or five-hundred page tomes dripping with character development, great descriptions, nail-biting action? Not anymore. Imagine him writing a book like his novel
Strangers or
Lightning and publishing it today? I think it would get five stars because you felt like you got your money's worth. Oh, and they were actually great books.
As the years go by his writing is getting so by-the-numbers that I literally can tell you what will happen to this or that character. He doesn't even try anymore. And why should he when we would plop down $20 to read his grocery list. His grammar is also devolving, which I think is a reflection of his editor not giving a hoot and rubber-stamping whatever comes out of Koontz's Macbook.
If he were writing this pseudo-religious drivel when he first started as a novelist he'd be dead in the water. No publisher would touch him. Some will say he earned the right to preach. My response is for him to get a pulpit, build a chapel, and call it the Church of Counted Sorrows. So yeah, we get it. You believe in something other than a great dark void after death, a soul-shattering emptiness that your readers feel after reading the highly unrewarding Lost Souls.
The other thing I've noticed in his books from the last decade, including this one, is that his stories have become frustratingly localized. Characters in his current crop of books simply don't get around much (remember Strangers?). Two main characters in Lost Souls live in San Fran when they are summoned to Montana, and that's about it. It's almost sad to see Koontz's imagination unable to visualize other locales. Not everyone lives in Laguna beach, where most of his stories take place. Sure, Stephen King does the same thing with most of his books as well, and to me it's pure and simple laziness. How many disasters can befall Castle Rock or California?