On Friday night I finished Ready Player One and I’m not going to sugar coat it guys, I hated it. Well, to be fair, whilst I was reading it I thought it was enjoyable, albeit very irritating. But by the time I got to the end I just hated it. (important disclaimer: apologies if you loved it and I can fully understand why people would. In fact, it’s been written in such a way that you probably feel it was written for you. But it wasn’t. It was written for one specific narcissist – Ernest Cline, the author)
The basic gist is this: In a dystopian 2044, the population of the world spend most of their time immersed in a virtual world called Oasis. The creator of Oasis (a man obsessed by the 1980’s) dies and sets in motion an elaborate Easter Egg hunt involving the locating of keys and unlocking of gates, with the winner claiming the dead man’s fortune and control of this VR world.
Obviously, spoilers abound from here on out, although, there is so little actual story in this book that it’s hard to really spoil it.