Since I was covering “well crafted crap” yesterday, I forgot one book that stands out as a rare work I haven’t finished, no matter how fine the prose, briefly mentioned in my gushing over John Ringo’s Monster Hunter Memoirs: Grunge.
Holy shit did I get sick of Kvothe – to the point I had to look up his name because I have him tagged mentally as “whiny selfish Marty Stu asshole gamma victim” the character so revolted me. I think I stopped somewhere at the point he was getting kicked out of the magic school or something.
God he was insufferable, and I don’t think I would have gotten past the second or third chapter once the protagonist was shown to be such a useless anklebiter if the prose hadn’t promised better, and it hadn’t gotten so much praise.
