I’m reading Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson’s A Memory of Light. It’s reminding me a lot of being a teenager when I fell in love with the Wheel of Time. During that same time, I also fell in love with Raymond Feist’s Riftwar novels, which are going to be reissued in the UK with these covers:
Now, I’m not one to gripe. I mean, have I ever been unnecessarily critical of something? But, Jesus, really? Putting aside the fact that these are blatantly designed to appeal to the Twilight reader, don’t they also feel very… romancey? There’s absolutely nothing in Feist’s books that gives this feel. They’re not Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell in a second world. No. Raymond Feist is Robert Jordan and Terry Brooks and David Eddings. Why do we insist on calling a spade everything but what it is?
Can’t we just remember these books as they’re supposed be?… Read the rest