I remember when Tim first introduced me to the series. I said something to the effect of, "What? I'm gonna read how many books by the guy who couldn't handle Conan the Barbarian without stumbling over his own linguistic ineptitude?"

Then I gave book one a try, and I was mesmerized. Holy Cow! Maybe Jordan can write his way out of a wet paper bag. Then I reached the point (too late of course, because I was already hooked) where it became apparent that the reason each book was averaging 800 pages was Jordan's insistence on providing the same lengthy verbatim desriptions over and over and...

Well, I guess that's not so bad. But then, just when I thought I could deal with his propensity for reused description, he takes it to the extreme and provides me with the literary equivalent of a 'Seinfeld' episode - a book about absolutely nothing!

Argh... that's seven hours of my life I can never get back. And the worst part is, I'll still go on and read the rest of the books. I've even pre-ordered my copy of the novel-size version of his Moiraine-meets-Lan short story "New Spring".

And I agree - Martin is a good choice to kill the next couple of years while we wait for book eleven (as Jordan re-releases the 1/2-book-at-a-time illustrated copies of the first ten) ...or you can read anything by either Stephen Brust or Joel Rosenberg. Between the two of them, they appear to be trying to give fantasy a good name in literary circles. They have produced some of the most lucid prose published in the past twenty years.