I know my blogging has been a bit sporadic of late. It all started when I watched the final episode of Lost a little over a week ago. It was so terrible, such a huge disappointment, that I was severely depressed and angry. Yes, I take my fiction very seriously, and as far as I'm concerned this was the biggest narrative failure since the Star Wars prequels. I'd like to pretend it didn't exist like I pretend they don't, but unfortunately this failure happens at the end of the story instead of the beginning so I can't really allow myself to unimagine it in the Lost corner of my brain.
Anyway, then I spent many days attempting to write a post on just how awful it was, which I have saved in a draft but which never quite achieved the level of outrage I was going for but may still get published on this blog one day, and then I sort of lost steam and sat on my arse for a while. So here we are.
For a post that almost perfectly describes my feelings on the epic awfulness that was the writer's total screwing over of their characters in Lost, you can go here.
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3 comments:
I'm forwarding this to Martin -he's been telling me it's great, but I agree with you. Totally like a high schooler writing a story that ends with "and then, they woke up and realized that it was just a dream."
I mean, WTF? Six YEARS of hanging us on...!
Oh no... and I just started watching it on Netflix and getting super hooked. Dammit.
I read the review you linked to and thought "EXACTLY!" Seriously, what the effing hell? The ending seemed like a big cop-out to me, as if the writers realized they only had X number of episodes to wrap things up and decided that fans wouldn't remember things that happened a few seasons ago anyway, so why not just introduce a deus ex machina and leave the other threads dangling? Ugh, I could go on. And on.
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