Have you ever read a book that’s so far above all others that it makes you want to go change your ratings for everything else you’ve ever read in that genre? Yeah, that.
I had a huge review for this written and ready to go. I talked about the incredible characterization, the complexity of the plot, the gorgeous writing, and the mind blowing way that they were all executed. And you know what? I can’t post it. It doesn’t do this book justice. So for now, I’ll say this:
Some authors are simply writers; they take words and put them down on the page. Some authors are poets; they take those words and twist them around into beautiful prose. Then some authors, like this author, are weavers. They take those words and that beautiful prose and work them into immensely complicated storylines. These lines become the thread with which they knit their books into creation. They stitch them to and fro as they weave a literary tapestry and while reading, you get mere glimpses of the pattern they’re creating. Only at the end is the grand design revealed, and when it is, you can do nothing but sit back and wonder at the beauty in front of you. Thank you, Mr. Staveley, for reminding me of ALL the reasons that I love to read.
This book kept me on the edge of my seat. This book gave me actual adrenaline rushes. This book was unputdownable. This book blew my fucking mind. Favorite Fantasy book of the year...maybe even ever.
More to come if I can figure out some way to do this justice.