Things I hate:
Nov. 12th, 2007 10:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cl0ckw0rkf0xneed to rant about an author again; this time, mercedes lackey.
Two things: first, you know how they put in a little excerpt from some exciting part in the middle of the book to draw you in? Well this excerpt was about one character watching the main character beign hunted through the forest by an ethereal wolflike being of ice and blowing snow, and the red eyes an d icicle fangs, and he's helpless to stop the creature, and it howls, yadda yadda. Well I get to that part of the story, and it's a dream. It's a freakin' dream. Nothing more exciting than being snowed into a waystation for a couple weeks happens in the story.
Secondly, they're snowed in at the way station, and one day they come out, and the sun's finally showed it's face, and oh noes, we can't go outside, we'll be snow blinded in minutes! Now, they're in a forest. A forest thick enough that they can't go around a fallen tree across the road. You don't get snowblinded unless you're on flat land with nothing but snow to be seen. You don't go snowblind in a freakin' forest!
This on top of the describing honey in a time before the existence of pasturization, as being golden liquid after being stored in the cold for several weeks at least.
I can never read mercedes lackey again. I will finish the book, because I hate not finishing books, but I can never start another one.
Two things: first, you know how they put in a little excerpt from some exciting part in the middle of the book to draw you in? Well this excerpt was about one character watching the main character beign hunted through the forest by an ethereal wolflike being of ice and blowing snow, and the red eyes an d icicle fangs, and he's helpless to stop the creature, and it howls, yadda yadda. Well I get to that part of the story, and it's a dream. It's a freakin' dream. Nothing more exciting than being snowed into a waystation for a couple weeks happens in the story.
Secondly, they're snowed in at the way station, and one day they come out, and the sun's finally showed it's face, and oh noes, we can't go outside, we'll be snow blinded in minutes! Now, they're in a forest. A forest thick enough that they can't go around a fallen tree across the road. You don't get snowblinded unless you're on flat land with nothing but snow to be seen. You don't go snowblind in a freakin' forest!
This on top of the describing honey in a time before the existence of pasturization, as being golden liquid after being stored in the cold for several weeks at least.
I can never read mercedes lackey again. I will finish the book, because I hate not finishing books, but I can never start another one.
