Neuromancer is what a 14 year old who has never read a book thinks cool writing would be like. It's outrageously bad to have such a good reputation. William Gibson wrote a novel about hacking but had never used a computer (possibly he had never seen a computer or even read a computer magazine, you can look this up), and seemingly he had never read a decent novel either.

What's the writing like? Well, here are some excerpts. I didn't pick out the worst parts, I just picked out the black jeans parts:

He stood, swatting pale dust from the front of his black jeans. He turned, glaring back at-the dusty shop windows, the closed door to the street. "What's out there? New York? Or does it just stop?" "Well," said the Finn, "it's like that tree, you know? Falls in the woods but maybe there's nobody to hear it."

But what exactly do you think I'm doing here?" He stopped, a wet black jeans-leg slapping against his bare thigh. "You came last night," she said. She smiled at him.

Case refused the ginger, took a seat in a yawing wooden swivel chair, and ran a thumb down the faded seam of one black jeans-leg. "Julie I hear Wage wants to kill me." "Ah. Well then. And where did you hear this, if I may?" "People." "People," Deane said, around a ginger bonbon. "What sort of people? Friends?" Case nodded. "Not always that easy to know who your friends are, is it?"

She'd taken him shopping. He stood, pulling on a wrinkled pair of new black jeans that lay at his feet, and knelt beside the bags.