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A French journalist creates an online identity to talk to jihadists, but unwittingly attracts the attention of a crazed ISIS fighter? Sign me up! I've stalked those ISIS idiots on Twitter for more years than I care to admit, and non-fiction about crappy countries is totally my thing. This book should be right up my alley! Right?

Sigh. Goddammit.

In the Skin of a Jihadist is just an extended version of Anna Erelle's NY Times/Daily Mail/Guardian articles promoting her book. If you've read any of those--hell, even if you just skimmed a summary on Buzzfeed--voila!, you've got the entire story. You can skip the book, because in 240 pages, there's not one detail that Erelle hasn't already published online.

Well, that's irritating.

But In the Skin of a Jihadist has bigger problems than being a longform version of Erelle's old web articles. The real issue is that despite its intriguing premise, this book is boring. (I survived Critical Theory in grad school, so "boring" isn't a word I toss around lightly). It's so lifeless that it damn near rivals Waiting for Godot/Moby Dick/anything by Jane Austen or Alessandro Manzoni, etc. as the dullest sh!t in print.

A contemporary book so monotonous that it sparks flashbacks of the bad classics?

Yikes. And it gets worse.

I get that Erelle is a journalist who wants to be taken seriously. I also get that she wants her subject matter to be taken seriously. But when you invent a fake identity to pursue a story, there goes my ability to consider you a serious journalist. As for the story itself? Catfishing some waste-of-life pussy ISIS fighter? Meh. I think I saw that on MTV once.

With her dubious professional ethics, near-zero credibility as a journalist, and a flimsy story, Erelle had nothing to lose when she started writing this. She could have written anything. Why she didn't drop the journalism shtick and focus on breathing life into her corpse of a book is beyond me. But no, she stuck to the (not very exciting) facts and called it good.

Lame.

Come on, Anna! Where's your creativity? I've got a couple of ideas to make your book less of a chore to read. See if you can work these in by the time the second edition rolls out:

Tell the real truth: You know what I mean. Spill it. Was the ISIS guy hot? Were you ever attracted to him? Were there any late night phone calls that your boyfriend didn't know about? Speaking of your boyfriend, he sounds hot. Can you tell us more about him, other than the fact that he sits in the corner brooding? Thx.

Embellish: As noted above, your professional integrity went out the window when you created a fake identity. You're no different than those of us who Twitter-stalk these assholes behind a fake avatar image, so we really only half believe you anyway.
Well, run with it! Tell us some sweet little lies and liven up this party!
Say you were toying with the idea of converting to Islam but a new-found love for Scientology stopped you. Say that you actually catfished 5 ISIS fighters, 2 of their wives, 1 of their slaves, and a few of their sheep. Describe your pet unicorn. Whatever. It doesn't matter. Just make something up! If it's interesting, we'll pretend we believe it.

Criticize someone, anyone, anything, for fuck's sake! Why be objective when you can engage readers with your opinions about the situation you created with your ISIS bachelor? There's already , so why the fear of stirring the pot? Go ahead, tell us why you think Islam sucks -- we can handle it. Or tell us how ISIS fighters think they're tough shit, but compared to the hotties in the Légion Étrangère or the Japanese during the Rape of Nanking, they're really just a bunch of whiny little girls. Better yet, make fun of your terrorist beau for being a fucking moron. Come on, tell us how in the hell a 38 year-old was dumb enough to be fooled by your fake identity, and then mock the hell out of him! I mean, being catfished when you're old enough to remember Prodigy and AOL? HAHAHAH!! DUMBASS!! LOL! (See how easy it is, Anna?) Voice an opinion! Just do something! And make it count.

Add some personality. How about French-ifying the text a little? You know, call the ISIS fucker a tête à claques, drop a few meaningless Foucault and Sartre quotes, and remind us of the superiority of France as you blow smoke in our faces with disdain. (God I love French people). See? I like your book better already.

Revise the "purpose." Yeah, yeah, yeah, your selling point is that your fake identity gave you precious insight into how ISIS manages to lure young European women to Syria. But come on, that's about the lamest attempt of all to legitimize your book.
Yes, it's shocking when seemingly normal girls disappear from their comfortable lives, only to pop up on Twitter in a niqab, married to a hairy stranger, and posing with Kalashnikovs in war-torn Raqqa.
But "How does it happen?" Come on, really? Um. It's called brainwashing, and teenagers are the easiest targets.
It's not complicated: teenagers are vulnerable, they long for a sense of purpose, they romanticize dumb things, and they make stupid decisions. And when their parents give them unfettered access to a device that connects them with the world... Well, gee, what could go wrong? When you're 15 and the hot ISIS fighter you met on Twitter tells you that you're "different" and "special," that means something. When that same stud tells you'll get to fire guns learn self-defense, be a sex slave get married in the lawless totally safe caliphate, and bring up the next generation of Muslims...that sounds rad. And when the hot stranger packages it all as a sacred mission that guarantees a spot in heaven? Holy sense of purpose, Batman! That's way cooler than sitting through 10th grade chemistry!
Something tells me you already knew this, Anna.

Find better material. When it really comes down to it, I don't care about some dumbass jihadist in Iraq. Call me when a bomb falls on his head. Or not. I don't care.
This whole war thing has been going on, ad nauseam, since the beginning of time, and there's absolutely nothing new or noteworthy about ISIS...well, other than their propensity for blowing themselves up in their quest for world domination, but you can't expect a Milennial terrorist to know that "No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. You win by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country." But even laughing at ISIS gets old.
If you really want to get my attention, use your fake identity something interesting. Infiltrate a group of young French women planning to move to Syria, and give us the scoop on what hell they're thinking. Or, trick a local imam into dating you and tell us what happens. Better yet, see if you can become 2nd wife to that ass-clown and write a salacious tell-all. Or, if Anjem doesn't pan out, become wife #4 to some devout Muslim/secret polygamist living in Paris and let us know how it goes.

See what I'm getting at here?

Save the dry reporting for your articles. You're hardly a journalist in the book, so give us the goddamn goods or go home.

Oh well. At least I didn't hate it.

Meh. Whatever.