At long last, my new book, Eggs for the Ageless, in on sale. To celebrate, I crafted a fun little infographic to share some stats behind the book. Hope you enjoy it!
Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.
Whether written or read, every book is a lesson.
George R.R. Martin is one of the best I’ve ever learned from (and for more than just his gratuitous descriptions of food). GRRM’s writing has made an indelible impact on mine. So today, I’d like to share some of my favorite lessons with you.
(Be forewarned—there will be spoilers for his books!)
Though I’ve covered this subject before, it remains a tough lesson to internalize. Yet the truth is plain: It pays to be mean to your characters.
Nobody’s nastier than George R.R. Martin. He beheads poor Ned Stark in book one, murders Renly Baratheon in book two, then goes ham in book three by killing Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, Joffrey Baratheon, and Tywin Lannister (among others).
And those are just the characters who die. The ones who live fare little better, i.e. Jaime Lannister getting his hand lopped off, Bran Stark being tossed from a tower, Daenerys Targaryen losing her son and hubby within hours of each other, and so forth.
I am almost certain Martin likes all these characters (with the exception of Joffrey). Yet he still bullies them. It’s the right thing to do.
Imagine, for example, if Martin liked Robb Stark too much to have him killed at the Red Wedding. Doing so would deprive us of one of the most shocking plot twists in modern literature—and television, for that matter. (I remember when the Red Wedding episode of HBO’s Game of Thrones aired. People could not stop talking about it.)
Bullying one’s characters means putting them in difficult situations. This forces one’s characters to be clever, courageous, and resilient; in short, it makes them more interesting. The meaner the writer is, the more momentous their characters’ eventual triumphs will be.
As a kid, I dreamed of writing series. I dreamed of trilogies, quartets, quintets, whatever you call a six-book series, and more. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire is a planned seven-volume series, and it’s masterful.
Before anyone writes an angry comment, let me clarify. Martin’s series is masterful. His writing pace? Not so much.
But part of what makes the five existing books so compelling is their foresight. The more you read, the more you’ll notice that those vague prophecies and ethereal dreams always seem to come true. That’s because Martin plans ahead, and has a destination in mind.
Consider this passage from Catelyn Stark’s point of view in A Game of Thrones:
“Sometimes [Catelyn] felt as though her heart had turned to stone…”
An innocuous line when you first read it. Yet once we get to book three, when the Freys murder Catelyn and Beric Dondarrion resurrects her, she goes by a new name: Lady Stoneheart.
And that’s just a subtle example. Adding these nuggets throughout the series makes the books feel even more intertwined and interconnected. Plan ahead and reap the rewards.
I’m not much of a mystery reader, but I probably should be. I always enjoy books with even a hint of the unknown. Martin has those hints in spades.
There’s the classic R + L = J equation, a long-standing theory which I won’t spoil for readers (but was confirmed in the series). Also, what the heck happened to Benjen Stark, who went ranging in the wild in book one and never appeared again? And what game are Illyrio Mopatis and Varys playing together?
I’ll stop there to preserve my word count. But you can visit the long-running Forum of Ice and Fire or the series’s Subreddit for more mysteries and possible explanations. If a series has enough enigmas to fill two websites with content, you know it must be special.
In second grade, I decided I wanted to be a writer. Fantasy was my genre, chiefly inspired by The Lord of the Rings. I loved the trilogy, yes—but part of me resented it as well. I’d convinced myself that no one—particularly me—could ever write anything better.
Then, 10 years ago, my dad invited me to watch a show I never heard before: A Game of Thrones. He’d heard about it somewhere and knew how much I loved LOTR. So, we watched the pilot. (Not really the type of show you should watch with a parent, but so it goes.)
Here’s a short list of the things I witness on my first visit to Westeros:
What blew me away was the audacity of the story. Game of Thrones took epic fantasy, a genre that celebrated heroism and the triumph of good over evil, and turned it into something far uglier—and in many ways, more compelling.
I spent the summer of 2011 watching new episodes every Sunday. The other six days of the week were spent tearing through the novels. And though it didn’t come immediately, I eventually had an epiphany: I liked A Song of Ice and Fire better than Lord of the Rings.
When you see perfection improved upon, you realize nothing’s perfect. There’s always more to be done, a higher place to climb, a better book to write. GRRM’s work helped me see past the ceilings I’d always believed were there. I doubt I’ll ever write anything better than Lord of the Rings. But if Martin could do it, it can’t be impossible.
Though we’ve never met, I’ve learned so much about writing from George RR Martin. I hope you did as well.
Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their cats, and their dog. He has written two books and numerous short stories, both published and yet-to-be published. He enjoys unusual narrative structures, multiple POVs, and stories that make readers laugh.
Some books don’t get their proper due. So today, we’re going to look at some of the most underrated fantasy books ever written. Let’s give them the credit they deserve!
(Image via Goodreads)
I believe Best Served Cold is Joe Abercrombie’s all-time best—and he’s got some amazing books in his catalog.
The setup is simple. Monza Murcatto, a charismatic mercenary captain with a bloody reputation, is betrayed by Grand Duke Orso, the man who’s employed her for years. Orso and six other conspirators help kill Monza’s brother and nearly kill her, too. Yet Monza survives, and swears vengeance on all seven of them.
I really dig this book’s structure. There are seven distinct sections, each taking place in a different city of Styria (the book’s principal setting), each chronicling Monza’s revenge upon a different man. She collects a diverse cast of dangerous people along the way, including Caul Shivers (a northman trying to reform his life), Castor Morveer (a poisoner with an inflated opinion of himself), Shylo Vitari (a former torturer and dedicated mother), and Nicomo Cosca (a drunk with a bad habit of betraying employers). Each provides their own value to the story.
Why is it underrated? The book made a minor splash during its initial release in 2009, yet hasn’t been discussed much since. I think we need to recognize this one for what it is: one of the best fantasy books of the 2000s!
Look, I know that’s a strong claim. I wouldn’t make it if I didn’t really feel that way. Best Served Cold has outstanding characters, a non-stop plot, high stakes, and a vivid setting. In addition, it’s the best blend of heist thriller and epic fantasy I’ve ever read. Please read this book. You’ll be glad you did.
(Image via Goodreads)
I’ve written about this book before…but whatever. It deserves the buzz!
The Shining Girls is an innovative thriller with a strong element of contemporary fantasy (not to mention a very cool structure). Set in the modern day, the book tells the story of Kirby Mazrachi, a girl who was never supposed to have a future. She’s the sole survivor of an attack by Harper Curtis, a truly bad dude who kills women not just in his own era, but others. How does he do that, you ask? That’s the fantasy element. He discovers a house in depression-era Chicago that allows him to travel through time.
I first heard of this novel when its author, Lauren Beukes, did an interview on one of my favorite podcasts, The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy. One of the most striking things she said in that interview was that she was sick of stories where the serial killer got all the narrative attention. With The Shining Girls, she wanted to write a serial killer story about the victims. She succeeded.
Why is it underrated? Well, I love Goodreads—but when it comes to this book, they’ve got it all wrong! Out of over 35,000 votes, the book’s average rating is a 3.49 out of 5.
I’m appalled by that rating. Beukes’s approach to the subject matter is something we must continue to emulate. I think people are realizing that more and more now, yet she was onto it years ago. Plus it’s just a great book.
Please do yourself a favor and read it. Then rate it. And please, give it the rating it deserves (hint: it’s better than 3.5 stars).
(Image via Goodreads)
Another novel with a daring narrative structure, David Mitchell’s The Bone Clocks follows a woman named Holly Sykes throughout her life. The book is divided into six sections, the first beginning with a 15-year-old Holly in 1984 and ending with a 74-year-old Holly in 2043.
No matter what you’ve read, I promise this book is nothing like it. It’s about a war between two psychic factions, one that Holly ends up embroiled in. In fact, it’s almost a little misleading to call it a novel—perhaps a series of interconnected novellas would be closer to the mark.
One of my favorite parts of the reading experience is figuring out what happens between sections of the book. For example, we begin in 1984 with a young Holly. We then leap ahead seven years to 1991, where we meet a grifter named Hugo Lamb. Hugo meets a bar manager in Switzerland whom he’s immediately attracted to. We don’t know who she is at first, but soon we find out. She’s Holly Sykes!
Each section carries with it a little surprise like that. It’s amazing and fun to see how they all connect, how all the characters evolve and interact. Plus, there are some fantastic supernatural element scattered throughout, including telepathy and reanimated corpses. What’s more, Mitchell is a brilliant prose stylist.
Why is it underrated? Well, people recognize its awesomeness, yet it’s overshadowed by Mitchell’s magnum opus, Cloud Atlas. I agree, Cloud Atlas is amazing. It too is one of my favorite books. But let’s not allow that giant to distract from Mitchell’s other work. The Bone Clocks is an amazing book in and of itself, and I would be sad if people forgot that.
(Image via Goodreads)
Another book that released to initial praise, then seemed to fall into obscurity. Three Moments of an Explosion has a fantastic title. The stories within are even better.
To a certain extent, I understand why it’s been forgotten. After all, short story collections don’t have the longevity that novels do. Still, I think Miéville’s collection should get more love than it does. These stories range from odd to strange to bizarre to downright horrifying.
“The Dowager of Bees” is one of my favorites. (Being a Magic: The Gathering player, I really dig stories with copious shuffling.) It’s about a card shark who stumbles across a magical card which inexplicably appears within his deck. “In the Slopes” tells the bizarre tale of archeologists who uncover some sort of alien life form. Then there’s “Säcken,” which is quite frankly one of the most disturbing stories I’ve ever read.
This collection is fantastic. I encourage you to read it!
(Image via Goodreads)
Fire & Blood is a history of the Targaryen family. It takes us from the founding of the dynasty through its near breaking during the Dance of Dragons, then into the war’s aftermath. It’s not a complete chronicle of the line, so there should be a sequel to finish things. (Hopefully it doesn’t release before The Winds of Winter. Otherwise, there might be a riot.)
I love Martin’s work, both within A Song of Ice and Fire and outside it. So I was disappointed to see such a negative reaction to this book. Upon release, a lot of people said something to the effect of, “Whatever. Where’s book six?”
I get it. I want The Winds of Winter, too. But this one is still really good!
Fire & Blood is filled with fascinating characters, rich conflicts, and ample imagination. Though written as a history, it’s certainly not boring. What’s more, this book seems to drop hints here and there for what we might expect in the remaining stories of the main series.
Please don’t underrate this book. If you enjoy A Song of Ice and Fire, you’ll enjoy this, too.
That’s my list. These books are awesome and I wish they got more love. What are some that you’d like to see more of? Let me know in the comments!
Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their cats, and their dog. He has written two books and numerous short stories, both published and yet-to-be published. He enjoys unusual narrative structures, multiple POVs, and stories about coffee.
What’s one of the key differences between J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings and George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire?
Nope, I don’t mean the treatment of dragons. I’m not thinking of dwarves. And no, I’m not referring to uses of the word “fucking.” I think the key difference between these two giants of the genre is their treatment of morals.
The Lord of the Rings has clearly defined sides: The Fellowship is good. Sauron is evil. Though some characters switch sides (most notably Saruman), it’s mostly obvious who you should root for and against. A Song of Ice and Fire is far less clear. The series was more or less written in response to LOTR, and one can see how: The characters in this series are morally dynamic, all of them ending up somewhere in the middle.
I’ve heard a lot of readers suggest George R.R. Martin’s approach is the better one. ASOIAF is more realistic, making Tolkien’s LOTR simplistic by comparison.
Yes, I agree. Lord of the Rings’s morals are simplistic. But I don’t think simplistic morals make for a worse story. Quite the opposite, actually.
Listen, I love both of these series. I ranked them in the top two of my fantasy power rankings. But I think there’s something to be said for Tolkien’s clearly-defined good and evil.
First of all, fiction is often about wish fulfillment. One of the most satisfying elements of a story is seeing an event reconcile itself within a truncated timeframe. Oftentimes, these are huge problems which realistically can’t be solved, at least not in the way presented. For example: a character reconciles the death of a loved one. Though this process would likely take years, fiction allows us to view this process within a few hundred pages. Wish granted.
Let’s bring this conversation back to Lord of the Rings. The wish fulfilled by the end of the novel is that all evil is vanquished. The One Ring melts into the lava, and boom. World saved. That’s a wish everyone can get behind.
Of course, we’ll likely never see a reality without evil. But fiction need not reflect the possible. Rather, it’s satisfying because it shows the impossible coming to life.
While I love A Song of Ice and Fire, it’s all too often a reminder of the world’s nastiness. If that’s what you’re into, I can see why you love it. I love it, too. But since the world is already a place filled with atrocities and death and violence, sometimes it’s nice to get away from all that in a book, rather than be reminded of it.
Sometimes the very best fiction is transportive rather than reflective. When we step into Middle-Earth, we can’t help but feel that we are elsewhere. We’re in a world where there are good people who fight for justice, where the seemingly insignificant become heroes. We get a little bit of that in Westeros, but mostly we get Red Weddings. Listen, I’m getting married soon. I don’t want to read about Red Weddings right now.
So yes, The Lord of the Rings is kind of simplistic. But sometimes, that’s what we need most.
Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. His debut novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, is available now.
Fantasy is a fantastic genre. And thanks to the brilliance of series like The Lord of the Rings and A Song of Ice and Fire, epic fantasy has become one of the most popular flavors of fantasy. How do you know you’re reading epic fantasy? These six signs should point you in the right direction:
I’m starting to think literally no other genre has prologues. Though, to be fair, many epic fantasy novels probably don’t need them, anyway. Prologues are supposed to set the stage for the book, but often they just add a few pounds to an already hefty volume.
Fantasy authors have a definite obsession with the multi-volume epic. For example: “This is part one of the first trilogy of three interconnected trilogies, all set in the same world.” Even Tolkien would be giving you the stink eye right now.
I think it’s safe to say we can blame J.R.R. for this one, too. They’re not necessary to the story as it is, but whatever—they give authors an excuse to make up names for cities their characters never end up visiting.
These tend to be passages from books within the book or quotes from people with silly names. Either way, you don’t feel too guilty for skipping them.
No fantasy story is complete without illiterate peasants, presumably speaking with cockney accents.
In many epic fantasy novels, characters possess an encyclopedic knowledge of the world—even the peasants. Which is funny, because most people in the real world probably can’t even tell you who the 30th president of the United States was (I definitely cannot). And in fantasy novels, they don’t even have Google.
Okay, that’s all I can think of for now. What did I miss? Let me know in the comments!
Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction.
Prologues are like infomercial blenders—we rarely actually need them, yet we want them anyway. Writers, especially epic fantasy writers, can’t resist writing them.
Today, I’m taking a stand against prologues. I think they’re overused, I think they’re underwhelming, and I think many books would be better off without them. In this article, I’d like to discuss when prologues work, when they don’t, and how to get them working the right way. Let’s get started.
When prologues don’t work, it’s because they only serve one purpose: plot. They’re not establishing main characters or setting up essential conflicts—they’re simply saying, “This is how things got the way they are now.” It’s heavy-handed, and the same goal can often be accomplished more organically by other means.
Furthermore, prologues so often tend to be the same as all the others we’ve already read. Here’s an example:
We find ourselves in an idyllic world, thousands of years before the actual action. We follow a character who’s described little and ultimately isn’t that significant. There might even be some seemingly innocuous character who we can already tell ends up being the villain. Anyway.
There’s often some kind of war or dispute going on. The seemingly innocuous character does something evil, either by force or by choice, and it plunges the whole world into disorder. The characters in the prologue quickly become obsolete, and then the real story actually begins, usually without any of those others characters.
Too many prologues work this way—which is to say, they don’t work. But not every prologue is a bust. Which leads me to my next section…
Prologues work best when they actually lend something to the rest of the book. I don’t mean setting the stage for the world or showing off the magic system early; one can do better through traditional storytelling techniques. What matters is getting your story going as soon as possible.
One possible exception to this rule is adding a prologue to a story in which there’s just too much flashback going on. Let’s say, for example, that you’re writing a book where you constantly add flashbacks and references to events happening previously. This certainly gets tedious after a while. As a reader, we don’t want forward motion halted constantly by allusions to the past. Here, a prologue might be appropriate.
If this sounds like a corner case to you, that’s because it is. Few stories have that much relevant backstory. There’s a reason most books do not have prologues; it’s because it’s often best to get right into the action of a book, then only provide backstory when it’s absolutely necessary. Otherwise, it impedes the flow of an unfolding tale.
Why then do so many epic fantasy writers rely on prologues? For one, I think it’s because they’ve become established tropes in the genre. Writers love them and many readers expect them. Furthermore, fantasy—especially alternate world fantasy—is more reliant on worldbuilding than other genres. Therefore, writers often feel a need to set the backdrop early, usually with a prologue.
Don’t let your prologue be an infomercial blender. If you’re going to include it, make sure you do it the right way.
Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction.
Image courtesy beyondhollywood.com.
After last night’s explosive season finale of HBO’s “Game of Thrones,” I’m in a real Song of Ice and Fire mood. To date, I don’t think any TV show or book series has ever inspired as much conjecture and speculation as these–and why not? Every second they’re onscreen or on the page, these characters are in serious danger of getting whacked.
I, of course, love to speculate as much as anybody, but I confess that it’s not much fun to guess what’s going to happen on the show when you’ve read all the books. Miraculously, every time I guess what will happen next on the show, I’m correct!
So instead, I’ve elected to make guesses about the novels–like in this here blog, for instance. These are my predictions for the sixth installment of A Song of Ice and Fire.
I know that this blog might be premature. Hell, this blog most certainly is premature, but that’s alright. George R.R. Martin’s latest masterwork will be upon us sometime within the next three years or so (hopefully), and I, as always, am a huge fan of speculation.
So let’s speculate.
SPOILER ALERT–IF YOU HAVEN’T READ BOOKS 4 AND 5 YET, YOU MIGHT NOT WANT TO READ THIS.
Anybody left?
You’ve read 4 and 5?
Okay, awesome. Let’s continue…
You clearly know a lot about A Song of Ice and Fire, so you know there are a lot of characters. Therefore, I’m going to do what Mr. Martin did in his fourth and fifth volumes–I’m going to separate the POV characters from A Feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons into two separate blogs. The latter will be available at a later date, the former…right now.
Let’s start in King’s Landing, with Cersei. After the ordeal she suffered at the hands of the Faith, it appears she might be broken. I doubt it. With Kevan Lannister dead, she’s going to pick up right where she left off–ruining the kingdom. In fact, Varys essentially says as much when he kills Kevan; Cersei will botch the whole project, paving the way for Aegon Targaryen to take the Iron Throne. That’s right–I predict a Targaryen will finally rule Westeros, just not Daenerys. More on her later…
In Oldtown, Sam Tarly is becoming a maester. Logistically, this process has to go pretty fast. The Others are coming soon, and Sam might hold the secret to defeating them. Sam also makes friends with Pate, who we of course know isn’t really Pate. A lot of readers have matched the description of the Alchemist to Jaquen H’agar’s new face at the end of A Clash of Kings, and it seems that this mysterious alchemist has now taken the face of the ill-fated pig-boy. I never made that connection until somebody pointed it out on a message board, but I think it’s accurate. For some reason, H’agar wants a master key to the citadel. Could it have something to do with fighting the Others? Or maybe a weapon to defeat dragons? I don’t even have a guess here.
But speaking of the Citadel, what the heck is Marwyn doing? He tells Sam that he’s going across the sea to meet Daenerys Targaryen, but it’s not really clear why. Does he want to destroy her dragons? Does he want them for himself? Based on the general greediness of Martin’s characters, and on the fact that dragons are in vogue in Westeros, my money’s on the latter.
In the Riverlands, the whole thing with Brienne and Jaime is getting a little too dicey for me. Brienne’s apparent plan is to lure Jaime into the woods so that Catelyn, a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart, can kill him. Please, Mr. Martin, I beg you…don’t kill Jaime Lannister! The guy’s my favorite character!
Before you get mad, hear me out. Jaime has done some terrible things–but I like him precisely because he’s done terrible things. He’s really just misunderstood, and he actually turns into a pretty good guy in A Storm of Swords and the following volumes. The incest thing is pretty inexcusable, I agree. But hey, nobody’s perfect! Fortunately for Mr. Lannister, Martin usually likes to suggest one thing, then do something totally different. Therefore, if he’s suggesting that Jaime is being lured to his death, perhaps that means that Jaime might live to bang his sister another day. (Sorry, I had to throw a joke in there somewhere).
Next, I definitely think Sansa is going to become heir of both the Eyrie and Winterfell. Littlefinger has been playing his cards well, and he and Sansa are set up to take both castles. In Feast, Baelish hints that if Robert Arryn were to die, Harrold Hardyng would become the new Lord of the Eyrie. And if Sansa marries Hardyng, she’s got both castles. My prediction is that Littlefinger will toss Robert Arryn out the Moon Door (much to every readers’ delight), then marry Hardyng and Sansa. Not sure what happens after that, though. Maybe Harrold and Sansa’s first move is to take back Winterfell from Roose Bolton?
Now to the Greyjoys. I think Euron Crow’s-Eye could be a big contender for King. This guy is all about forbidden magic and dragon horns and other creepy shit–I think he might use some of that magic to take the throne. However, there’s still the matter of Aegon Targaryen, who seems to have a lot of support and a pretty sweet army behind him. I predict a meeting in King’s Landing between these two, a second epic battle over the city, and Aegon emerging as the victor.
Euron’s brother Victarion is a different story, though. I think that he’s going to smash Daenerys’s foes with the Iron Fleet, then perhaps join forces with her. I used to guess that Dany would marry him to acquire his fleet (Westerosi marriages are so materialistic!), but with her frolicking in the Dothraki Sea, that’s going to be tough. My best guess is that he’ll form some kind of alliance with old man Selmy.
In regards to Dorne, I think Arienne is definitely going to marry Aegon. The Dornish tried to arrange a marriage with the Targaryens twice before and failed both times, so this seems like a logical third try. This time it’s going to work, and Aegon will have even more support for his cause.
Lots going on, lots to guess about. What do you think is going to happen? Feel free to comment with your thoughts, fears, and craziest conspiracy theories. Let’s hope that the book comes out soon, so we can see how bad my predictions turn out to be.
I wish you luck in all your speculating endeavors!
Image courtesy sot.wikia.com
When most people think of multi-volume fantasy epics, they invariably think of the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind. Without a doubt, it’s one of the most popular and enduring series in the genre, spawning twelve novels and a short-lived live-action television series. Wizard’s First Rule is the original entry in the series, so I thought I’d give it a shot to see what all the fuss is about.
After four months of tedious on-and-off reading, I stillI don’t understand the fascination with this series. The writing isn’t particularly impressive, and neither is the world or the characters or the themes or really anything else in it. I felt like I was reading a patchwork of fantasy. Richard is a stereotypical male hero; Kahlan is halfway decent compared to others, but ultimately uninteresting; Zed is exactly what you think of when you think of a wizard. There’s nothing very original about this book, nothing to differentiate it from everything that’s come before.
Let’s start with the rules of the world––there are way, way, way too many. Everyone is bound by magical law to do one thing or another, and it seems like more and more rules are added to the list with each passing chapter. To illustrate my point, there are probably around five to ten campfire conversations where everyone sits around and chats. But instead of telling scary stories boy-scout style, they all try to explain to the reader how things work in the Midlands. They usually go something like this:
…
ZEDD: So Richard, you’re the Seeker, which essentially means that you walk around with a big sword looking for truth.
RICHARD: Looking for truth? What does that mean?
ZEDD: I don’t know. And no one’s going to explain it. There are like twenty more books left for readers to figure out what the hell’s going on.
RICHARD: But––
ZEDD: Moving on. There are these boxes, right? And this dude named Darken Rahl wants them because if you open all three before winter, you get, like, limitless power and you can open up the underworld and stuff.
RICHARD: Who made the boxes? And why does this guy want to open the underworld?
ZEDD: Don’t worry about it. Point is, you need to kill this guy because he killed your father…well, the guy you think is your father. Spoiler: it turns out Darken’s your daddy.
RICHARD: Hey, wasn’t that already the major plot twist in Star Wars?
ZEDD: Uhh…
…
Okay, I admit it, this isn’t really what their campfire chats are like. They’re a lot longer, and there are far fewer logical questions being asked. The world is based on rules that seem to change depending on the situation the writer finds his characters in.
For example, at the end of the novel, when everything seems lost, Kahlan goes into this sacred rage called the Con-Dar, setting up Rahl’s downfall. It isn’t explained or even alluded to until the very end of the book, and as a result it comes out of nowhere and seems incredibly convenient. Talk about deus ex machina.
As I said earlier, for a series that’s supposedly character driven, the characters of Wizard’s First Rule are anything but compelling. They feel mechanical rather than organic, acting because they’re told to and not because they choose to. They don’t have very much agency, and as a result become monotonous, if not downright boring. And to make matters worse, many of them are noticeably derivative.
The best example of this problem is Samuel. Let me describe him to you, and you tell me who he sounds like. Samuel is a wretched, tortured little man who runs around on his arms and legs like a dog. He used to be a normal being, but he was twisted by the magic of an ancient artifact and is now hopelessly bound to it. His purpose in the story is to illustrate what will happen to the protagonist if he should fail in his quest.
Sound familiar? That’s right folks. Samuel is Gollum.
The only halfway unique or interesting character in the whole book is Denna, a torturer hired by Darken Rahl to break Richard. Though at first she appears to be merciless and cruel, she and Richard develop an unlikely bond of love. Just when she begins to get really interesting, guess what happens? Richard has to kill her.
The best thing I can say for Wizard’s First Rule is that I could finish it. It’s just interesting enough that you want to know what happens, but the payoff is just like the first 600 pages: completely derivative. I was really hoping that Darken Rahl wouldn’t turn out to be Richard’s father. I really was. Having the antagonist be the protagonist’s father became instant cliche when they did it in Star Wars…so why do it again?
…
Wizard’s First Rule might be somewhat engaging to someone who’s never read a fantasy novel before. But if you’re at all familiar with the genre, you’ll recognize every character, every theme, and every plot twist.
Rating: 3/10
I picked up Gardens of the Moon by Steven Erickson pretty much on a whim, not really knowing what I was in for. I’d seen it near the top of some random best fantasy series list, so I thought I’d try it.
Gardens of the Moon is the first book in the Malazan Book of the Fallen series. It focuses on the multi-continental empire of the Malazan, specifically on their campaign on the continent of Genabackis. Here we meet the Bridgeburners, an elite company of Malazan soldiers, as well as the people of Darujhistan, last Free City standing in the way of Malazan control over Genabackis.
In a word, it’s sprawling. Erickson rivals Tolkien in his world-building. Not since The Lord of the Rings have I read a fantasy novel with such a massive scope, and that includes A Song of Ice and Fire. (That’s not a knock on GRRM as much as it is a pat on the back for Erikson). It’s a lavish world, packed near to bursting with characters and races and plots and subplots. There is so much going on and so many different forces at work that it’s almost unbelievable that only two guys made all of it up (Erickson created the world of the Malazan with fellow author Ian Estermont, originally conceiving of it as an environment for Dungeons and Dragons). It’s truly an incredible feat of world-building.
But the scope of Gardens of the Moon is a detriment as well as a strength. There is so much content that I spent the last third of the book being thoroughly confused. Maybe it’s because I listened to most of it on audiobook, but it seemed very difficult to follow. It was hard to remember who was working for who or who had done what, especially because the narrative focuses on one character and then doesn’t return to that character for many more chapters. This is one of the few problems I have with A Song of Ice and Fire as well, and here it’s only magnified. More characters and more things going on make it invariably more confusing.
I think another area where Gardens falls short is on characterization. Some of the characters come so close to being compelling, but few ever achieve that status. I wanted to like Whiskeyjack, I wanted to like Captain Paran, and I wanted to know more about Anomander Rake––but there just wasn’t much there. To be fair, there are still nine books left in this series, and I’m sure Erickson builds on his characters further. But still, a little more attention to them in this volume would’ve been nice to see.
One last thing: I really admired Erickson’s intentionally anti-Tolkien take on fantasy. Much like Martin’s work, there isn’t any central quest, nor are there any heroic figures. Rather, it’s a bleak, violent world consumed by war. It doesn’t look like there’s any light at the end of the tunnel, either. I always appreciate a fantasy series that isn’t a Tolkien retread, and thankfully, the Malazan Book of the Fallen series is anything but.
…
Gardens of the Moon is an astounding feat of creative imagination, if a little confusing at times. The characters seem somewhat flat too, especially when compared with those from A Song of Ice and Fire. However, the world by itself is enough of a reason to recommend it.
Rating: 8/10
Has there ever been a more entertaining show?
If so, I’ve never seen it. I can’t get enough. Does it have backstabbing, you ask? What about plotting? And incest? Yes my friends, it has all that and more. Although, I could do without the incest.
Basically, I see it as a soap opera you’re not ashamed to watch. I mean think about it. Everyone hates each other, everyone’s sleeping with each other, and it’ll probably never end. Sounds like a soap to me.
But thankfully, Game of Thrones is far more intelligent than your run-of-the-mill daytime soap, thanks in large part to the character development. Each is so well drawn and so believable, it seems as though they’re based upon real people. I think it’s a credit to George R.R. Martin and the writing team that they could create such strong characters.
Furthermore, it’s helped bring fantasy into the adult mainstream. Of course, Lord of the Rings was certainly mainstream, but not in the same way. Before A Song of Ice and Fire, most mainstream fantasy literature was aimed toward a younger audience. That’s not to say that an older audience couldn’t enjoy it. Quite the contrary; Lord of the Rings is extremely popular, both on the page and on the screen. However, it deals with more universal themes. A Song of Ice and Fire and Game of Thrones deal with more realistic themes. In essence, it’s fantasy for adults. Not only this, but A Song of Ice and Fire has spawned a new generation of fantasy for adults, such as Joe Abercrombie’s First Law series.
Personally, I hope they continue making the show. It’s extremely expensive, but at the same time, it’s so wildly popular that I think it will stay on for at least a few more years. Can’t wait for the next episode! But until then, just remember…winter is coming.
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