does fantasy.ĭon’t come for me Tolkein stans! I don’t care! You know reading about thirty different kinds of rocks and trees is boring AF. Don’t get it twisted though, I don’t mean Tolkein in the boring, over-detailed way J.R.R. It would need to be a TV series to fit in every scene – they are all important and if anything was cut out I would fucking riot. I’m calling Wendig the Tolkein of horror because this book is an epic. And that’s a testament to Wendig’s plotting and writing voice. You fly through this fat-bottom girl like… I don’t have a metaphor for this, but whatever. There is so much happening all of the time in every single chapter, that the pace never takes its foot off the gas.
Coming in at nearly 600 pages, it looks like an intimidating read and ya girl is definitely not a fan of thicc novels, but let me tell you, this does not read like a big ass book.
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