I first started reading The Way of Kings several months ago when my sister brought it home from the library. I trudged through forty-four pages of destruction, death and despair. Then I turned the page, read the first line of chapter three-- and was called away. I didn't pick up the book again.
What I didn't know was that I had put down the book at the exact spot where things start to brighten up. The character that had just been introduced is a very interesting, clever and not at all depressing woman. If I had only continued for two more pages I would have been hooked.
But I didn't. I put it down and spent months listening to my siblings rave about it. I didn't understand what they saw in such an obviously glum book, but I didn't give it much thought.
Then, on January 7th (my birthday), I read this blog post. How could I ignore the book now? We had received The Way of Kings for Christmas and I didn't have anything to do but write THE SCENE OF DEATH (which I've been working on for a month) anyway. And I was so sick of that garish scene.
So I weighed my options and ended up taking the book from Sarah.
I suppose it’s a good thing that I didn’t reach the stuff I hadn’t read yet before supper, or I wouldn’t have been able to attend my birthday dinner. The book is far far too good. Even the destruction, death and despair were interesting now. I marveled at the way Sanderson slipped in explanations of the world without ever breaking the story. I gaped at the vibrancy of even the incidental characters. He took characters from Point A to Point B quickly and discreetly, something that I can never manage to achieve. The story is astounding. A perfect blend of adventure, romance and glorious insights into human beings.
And so I stayed up until midnight reading it. I would have stayed up later, but that would entail reading on Sunday, something that I will not allow myself to do. But it was hard to put that book down. I must confess that I started banging it on my lap in giddy distress when I finished Part One and noticed that it was exactly 12:00 and I had to put the book down.
But I made up for my lack of reading on Sunday by getting up at 6:30 to read it on Monday. It might be a little stupid to annoy Lizzie by turning on the light that early, but I had to. Even with the constant craving to introduce the world to my characters, even through the suffocating depression that welds itself to my heart when I'm not writing, I had to finish reading this book.
Then, on January 11th, something strange happened. I had been reading The Way of Kings and then I felt an all-consuming need to write. I dashed for my laptop and the words flew from my fingers. More than that, it was good. Much better than the stuff I've been wringing out of my brain lately. It was all inspired by that remarkable book.
And that's not all. Dialogue for scenes I’ve been planning for months is pouring into my brain, unstoppered by reading such a masterpiece.
I recommend this book to everyone. It’s 1001 pages of pure delight (and depression, but we pass that quickly). As I said before, I finished the book yesterday but I can’t stop running those last few chapters over and over again through my head. I devoured the story and I’m hungering for more.
