There something about a hardback book… the pages are a little thicker, it’s a little heavier, and it just feels more like a tome than just some novel you picked up at the nearest Waterstones. So I’ve got this book in my bag, through some wheeling and dealing I managed to get the bloody thing for just under £8. Yes, that’s a bloody hard back novel, for £8.
I haven’t started to read it yet, but I know it’ll be good… this is Steven Erikson, weaver of tales, a man who’s mind holds so many damn plot lines it must look like a ball of yarn. I swear there are at least five different series’ worth of story in the first seven books alone, and hell if this one doesn’t look like a biggy. There’s 917 pages of backstabbing, epic battles and deus ex machina in my bag, and I’m a little hesitant to begin it… the last one occupied me for a solid 72 hours… and apparently this one is a little better than that, which, conversely, could mean it would take up less time, as I’ll be more eager to read it, but for some reason I doubt that’s true…. it’s just so…. heavy.