My history with Travis S. Taylor as an author has been a rocky one. I enjoyed his contributions to the four Looking Glass books by John Ringo, though I’ll acknowledge that those novels are kind of a mess. (I’ll also acknowledge that I’d love a fifth installment.) After those, I jumped into his solo stuff with One Day on Mars and The Tau Ceti Agenda and found both to be poorly-written disasters of childish ideas and one-dimensional characters. I never did finish The Tau Ceti Agenda despite my best efforts to.
When Onto the Asteroid showed up … well, it was either this or an abysmal vampire spy novel. And hell, I was glad to see an apocalyptic story that didn’t involve zombies—seriously, those things are everywhere now. Bring on the mass destruction!
Of course, hindsight says I should have just not read either novel and saved myself the pain of this 330-page slog. Whoops.
Let’s start with the plot: Some new company wants to mine asteroids. Sure. I can dig that! They launch a rocket, stick an engine onto an asteroid, and start driving it towards Earth. I can dig this too. The problem is, the engine fails, and now the asteroid is heading right for our little blue planet. It probably won’t end humanity, but it will destroy society as we know it.
As far as plots go, it’s not inspired, but it’ll do. However, it doesn’t quite end here.
Instead of NASA taking care of this asteroid thing, we turn towards a second company that wants to start a hotel on the moon. Gary Childers is a super billionaire philanthropist who loves space, and since he’s got more money than anyone needs, he gets a bunch of say in how this is going to go down. He also has a really nice spaceship because money. NASA? No. His pilot is going to the moon, even though there are more-qualified people for the job.
See, there’s this strange undercurrent throughout On to the Asteroid that super rich people without limits or rules will save the day. Yeah, that one rich guy set the asteroid towards Earth, but he doesn’t count because there’s a better rich guy who has our back. He’s the nicest person in the whole world, someone you just can’t hate unless you’re a crazy terrorist, and he’s also really smart or something too. The novel goes into pain-stacking detail to make you want to love him no matter what because he is a dirty, dirty Gary Stu.
And because he has money, he can make things happen faster and better since the government can’t get in his way. It’s why there’s going to be a hotel on the moon.
Politically, I don’t like this set of ideals one little bit. It would be nice if the novel had some balance to it, but the evil rich company who set this mess off are ignored so Gary Stu Childers can work his magic, care about everyone more than himself, and then almost die a few times because we’re supposed to care if that happens.
The sad thing is, Gary Stu Childers is the only memorable character in the whole novel. The spaceship crew all blend together into some kind of grey sludge, and everyone else on Earth quickly become unimportant unless they’re really rich. The crazy terrorist stands out by being a crazy terrorist, but he’s just as boring as everyone else.
His shtick, by the way, is that someone hurt his honor so he doesn’t care if the world dies as long as he kills the people who metaphorically wronged him. It’s a real shame too, because his wild-card element should have been tense and fun, but instead it was just another paint-by-numbers thing to find boring. The end to his reign of terror is also so anticlimactic that it’s actually kind of offensive.
Everything about On to the Asteroid is uninspired, but being boring is the least of this novel’s problems.
Travis S. Taylor is not a good writer. His prose is awful—it’s more bland than his characters, all of whom sound the exact same—he seems to thrive on grammatical errors like a vampire does blood, all of his action sequences are grotesquely childish in execution, and his use of hard science turns what should be interesting sequences into choppy pieces of technical writing that are best skipped over.
Baen puts a, “this is an unproofed review copy” warning before all of its .pdfs, but even if that’s the case, there’s no excuse for the amount of typos, grammatical errors, style errors, continuity errors, and general writing nonsense found in this novel. What I read is a second draft, not something that should go on store shelves.
I’m not the biggest fan of hard science fiction, but I will acknowledge that it can better a book. The Martian would not be compelling without the formulas and essays on botany. Plus, Andy Wier makes it interesting. Hell, the same can be said of the aforementioned John Ringo books, whose bits and pieces of particle physics are really quite fun, if not a little too overbearing.
In On to the Asteroid, the hard science is used in the absolute worst way it could be, covering up action with facts and then skipping past the action so we can get back to our boring characters on their boring journey. None of it is fun to read, none of it is enlightening, and all of it should be removed. It does nothing for the narrative.
On to the Asteroid is a bad book. It’s a poorly-written mess of boring ideas in a boring execution that I almost did not finish. I wanted to stop around the middle, but I figured there had to be some kind of little twist hidden near the end, since there was so much left to go. There wasn’t. Instead, a 250 page novel is dragged out past its prime, bogged down by needless facts, repetition, and about a thousand other writing problems that should not be in a product people pay for.
Or to put this another way: When I hit the last hundred pages, I wasn’t geared up to sprint through them like a good book would have me do; instead, I began to skim, reading every other paragraph in hopes of something worth my time to show up.
Nothing worth my time ever showed up.