Day 353 of 365: This Is My Nightmare

Well, that's a bit extreme, but in terms of reading a certain book, it doesn't get any worse than this for me.


My husband has been slowly but surely getting me into the world of Sci Fi/Fantasy. And there has been some reasonable success: I loved The Darkside series, and Patrick Rothfuss is easily one of my favorite writers of all time (if you don't check out his books, at least check out his blog. He has a seriously Whedonesque sense of humor). There's one particular book he has been trying to get me to read since forever: The Way of Kings. He even bought me a copy and had it signed by the author himself, with the message, "Now you have to read it."


During the height of teacher training, I had no time to read. Between essentially a textbook a month plus anatomy homework, the last thing I wanted to do was look at more print. But with school winding down, I'm finding more time to actually do some reading. And I'm excited to get back into actual reading. I've noticed that it has been downright agony trying to get any editing done as of late -- and I've also noticed that there is a strong correlation between the amount I read and the amount I write or edit.


So, after dealing with some seriously horrendous books, I finally give The Way of Kings a stab. It's been at the bottom of my pile, even though my husband is super excited for me to read it, even though the author signed it with a demand o' reading for me.


And why? Because I am very particular when it comes to the types of books I read. And I don't mean genre or style (although keep me the fuck away from Twilight et al). But I prefer trade paperbacks over mass market. No, strike that: I downright hate mass market. And the bigger the page count, the more my disdain shows through. Small print + thin pages = eyesore Abby.


Plus, I have been leary of fantasy novels because of the huge info dump that usually happens in the first chapter. "Alright, within 20 pages you are going to learn about this particular brand of magic, the races of people that live on this planet, the lineage of the royalty who live there, and -- oh yeah -- all the characters, who have crazy fucking names."


So... guess what The Way of Kings has? You guessed it: it's a 1200-page mass market paperback with a massive info dump within the first 50 pages.


My. Nightmare.


But I'm pressing forward anyway. The last time I trusted my husband with a book, I became a Patrick Rothfuss fanatic. My husband is also the reason I'm fanatical about Joss Whedon in the first place. I trust his judgment. But I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't cringing over sloughing through that first 50 pages, while squinting my eyes and turning thin pages.


Here's to hoping this all works out. Who knows: maybe I'll end up a Brandon Sanderson fan at the end of this.