1 out of 4 stars
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The powerful goddess Atalia can create anything. Bored in her realm in the 7th dimension and itching for a project, she explores the other dimensions. She finds an uninhabited blue planet in the 6th dimension; she names the planet Tungaloo. Atalia meditates to create twin sons, Kendo and Kondamaru, who then help her create the first couple for Tungaloo. Kendo concentrates to create the first man, Kalvo; Kondamaru does the same for the first woman, Zeta.
After 1200 years, Tungaloo boasts of a bustling civilization, the Kingdom of Guntar. King Zuto and Queen Tari rule over their subjects in peace and unity.
Alas, their happy kingdom soon faces a big challenge! The evil Kontrax from the dark mountain, Eclipto, wants to usurp the kingdom. He vows to do so in twenty years when he has created enough Tanta warriors to defeat the kingdom’s formidable army.
Atalia prophesies that an Earthling, Tundro, will come to save the kingdom from Kontrax’s evil designs. But Tundro is a loser on Earth. He is rejected by his parents and sister, bullied in school, and rebuffed by the women he pursues. It seems he can do nothing right. Will he be the hero that the kingdom needs?
The Strength of Tundro reads like a book for kids. Author A.J. Quinn uses simple vocabulary, and the story feels like an expanded fairy tale. There are good and bad guys, magic tricks, a telepathic dragon, and a powerful sword a la Excalibur, stuff that tweens and preteens usually enjoy. The author shares lessons on family love, good manners, perseverance, and forgiveness.
Unfortunately, the book failed to bewitch me; it sorely needs more imagination. The Kingdom of Guntar, though in another dimension, suspiciously looks like any human civilization, minus the squabbling. Everybody wears the same clothes: loincloths and robes. Only the Tanta warriors look different; they have four arms and have three eyeballs on the right side of the face and sharp teeth on the left. Apart from threatening to conquer the kingdom, Kontrax does not do many other wicked acts. I rarely meet such a boring villain.
Among the few fight scenes, the encounters with the seven-headed snake are the most suspenseful. There are ballgames in the story; those are more exciting than the final battle scene which everybody prepared twenty years for.
With regard to the writing, the author tends to use superfluous words. In the first page, the phrase “the goddess Atalia” is used eight times. This happens every time a new character or place is introduced, including the snake. The phrase “the 7-headed snake” is used 12 times in one paragraph alone.
Conversations are merged with descriptions, and all the conversers share the same paragraph. It is difficult to pinpoint who is talking, especially when Kendo and Kondamaru are involved, what with their similar-sounding names.
Scene changes are not marked off and sometimes occur in the same paragraph. This adds to the confused jumble. Moreover, there are scenes that do not seem necessary, or their essence is lost on me. These include the crying baby Tundro, the baseball game, and the training at the Leadership Academy.
The final blow is dealt by the poor grammar. The text is littered with misspellings, punctuation issues, and wrong verbs. Here’s a sample of the more egregious errors: Kendo “waived at his brother,” the newlyweds left after the “(wedding) receptionist,” and Kendo “begins righting the message.” I won’t let kids read bad grammar in their books; they already face more than enough of it via social media and texting.
While I see the potential strength in this book, I cannot recommend it for now. I hope A.J. Quinn will find the magic to resolve the issues noted. For now, I can give the book only 1 out of 4 stars.
P.S. That is the goddess Atalia on the cover.
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The Strength of Tundro
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