On/Off, a horror novel by RIT alumnus Mike Attebery, tells the tale of Jamie Pepper, a freshman photography student facing early onset Parkinson’s Disease. After undergoing a risky experimental procedure, Jamie’s debilitating symptoms lessen, and he begins the return to normalcy — or so he thinks.

The novel takes place at RIT, but aside from some awkward name dropping and a few unflattering descriptions of Computer Engineering majors and Deaf people, the setting is utterly alien. For example: The first Friday of the quarter, our protagonist has no classes. As advised by one of his art professors (“If you’ve got some pot, smoke it. If you’ve got the means, get drunk this weekend.”), Jamie dutifully follows his RA to a frat party in Perkins. After several drinks, a Courtney Cox look-alike known as the “samurai of blowjobs” pushes Jamie into the bathroom, takes off her shirt, and... yeah.

Now, I’m not saying that this couldn’t happen at RIT. But come on. Even leaving a wide berth for dramatic license, most of the party situations described in the book just don’t ring true. Nor, for that matter, do any of the female characters. Though there are some halfhearted attempts at developing the relationship between Jamie and Kelli (the love interest), it’s clearly not a priority. Readers are usually far better informed on the state of Kelli’s nipples than her state of mind — unless, of course, she’s thinking about sex.

Although Attebery paints an exquisite portrait of psychological desire, it is almost entirely undone by the frequent and tiresome descriptions of physical acts. On/Off borders on pornography, and not at all in a good way.

A larger problem, though, is the story. After an interminable 210 pages of gratuitous bodice-ripping, the trajectory of the plot abruptly veers into horror, and gets lost there for the next hundred pages. Although the story gains some momentum in the final 55 pages, the resolution is incredibly unsatisfying. It’s at a complete disconnect with what had happened prior to that point, and, quite frankly, doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Attebery writes with passion, but a good novel requires more than just that. Bottom line: Storywise, On/Off is way, way off.

On/Off by Mike Attebery
Publisher: Cryptic Bindings
Release date: November 11
Print price: $19.95
Download price: $9.99