This week, Frodo lives.

Frodo: This week has been extremely traumatic so far, roaming in the wild and dodging Black Riders everywhere I turn. The worst of it is that every time I try to settle down and relax with a good book, Strider's there to bang on about some elven legend or another. Tonight he chanted what must have been half the bloody Lays of Beleriand, stopping every four verses without fail to tell us how much better it would sound in the original Quenya. Getting quite fed up with this, but Sam keeps encouraging our amateur jongleur to ever more ridiculous vocal gymnastics "so long as it's about elves, Mister Frodo." There are times I wish we'd never had that dinner with the elves in the Shire. Food is the way to win Sam's heart, and as the elves seem to bake honey into everything, I should have seen this infatuation coming.

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This week we hear from Gurgi of the Lands of Prydain, assistant to Taran, Assistant Pig-Keeper of Caer Dallben. Which makes Gurgi a sort of super-concentrated assistant, I suppose. Anyway, Gurgi hails from the Prydain Chronicles, the best children's fantasy series that no one's heard about.

Gurgi: This week Gurgi found a book, a good book, yes. Gurgi found it stimulating and he found it enriching. It was the best crunchings and munchings Gurgi had all week, poor hungry Gurgi.

Kat: I read three novellas and one and a half novels this week. The first was Dan Simmons’ The Guiding Nose of Ulfänt Banderōz which is one of the stories from the anthology  Read More

This week, Ron Weasley shares his impression of Harry Potter's trials and tribulations.

Ron: This week I really tried reading something. It was a real book. With words. But too much was happening otherwise for anyone to really focus. Except Hermione. Anyway, the thing is that Harry's on the outs with Hogwarts as an entire entity again... somehow. Y'know, Ginny's really carrying a torch for Harry, but I keep telling her to wait until he graduates and this on-again, off-again thing with the school is over. He and Hogwarts break up and make up more often than the couples on one of Mum's wireless programs.

Bill: This week, actually two since I missed our last update, made for some great reading. It began with Kate Atkinson's  Read More

This week, tensions rise between Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser.

Fafhrd: Well, it's happened again. Six times this week. As I slide 'round a corner with hand on hilt of sword, prepared for any sort of deviltry, the Mouser treads on the heel of my shoe from behind, causing my foot to pull free. Coiled and tense as I generally am on these occasions, I tend to spill forward. Often into a gutter. Once into a midden. My friend apologizes on each occasion until I can scarce bear to mention it any further and am obliged to accept his clumsiness as an honest mistake. Yet it grows ever more frequent, and my patience is fraying. Fraying.

John: NSTR(Nothing Significant To Report): I am slogging my way through two books... Ugh! I don't want to name them....but sometimes it's work!

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This week, Drizzt Do'Urden again. Frankly, it's fertile ground.

Drizzt: This week, whilst roaming in the city with my good friend Bruenor Battlehammer (he is a dwarven king, as those I speak to seem to somehow intuit when I have but mentioned his name... doubtless it is his well-justified fame) we came  upon a number of suspicious-looking characters lurking in the shadows beside by a tanner's shop. This was most suspicious, as the odor emanating from the establishment was such that it triggered a flashback to my woeful days in Menzoberranzan, ere my liberation to the sweetness and friendship of my surface life, tainted though it ever is and shall be by my drow features. Oh, can one elf alone redeem the reputation of his race? Would such redemption, even sweet, be of any true value in the passage of time, as the evil of my kindred perpetrates further atrocities against which I must strive? Wh... Read More

This week, we hear from Kvothe and Bast.

Kvothe: That week, having somehow spiralled into abject poverty again, I drank away my troubles at the Eolian. I was not too many mugs into the night when I was induced to sing. I performed, and I performed well. Music, in time, comes to be a state of being rather than an occupation. The mechanics of fingers and strings falls away, and one becomes an engrossed spectator to his own art. It was so that night, and I was not without admirers. I passed them by with quick words and warm smiles. Simmon and Fela had entered as I sang, and most in the world then I wanted to hear the results of their studies in the library. Also, I must confess, their blossoming romance had been of no small interest to me, and...

Bast: Bast's Journal. Day Three of the Acc... Read More

The River Kings’ Road by Liane Merciel

If The River Kings’ Road had been published fifteen years ago, it would have been hailed as something special. Liane Merciel does a splendid job on the whole. She has interesting characters, a suspenseful plot, and a good turn-of-phrase. It has all the elements of a great fantasy novel… including the ones that have been working very well for a lot of other fantasy novelists during the past decade.

The novel is never short of entertaining, but it does have one very real problem, and that is its clearly derivative tone and style. It’s a perfectly serviceable, charming read, but Merciel’s relative inexperience as a professional author shows. Her personal voice is often lost in imitation of other novelists, and the world-building in particular lacks the freshness that would make this a memorable journey. It’s the worst-kept secret in the world that fantasy has been obsessed w... Read More

This week, we hear from Drizzt Do'Urden, who has had a terrible time of it indeed.

Drizzt: This week, while I was staying with my good friend Regis, I found he had scheduled a party or gathering of some sort. Mindful that the guests might believe I had come to massacre them all -- due to my dark elven countenance and the storied malevolence of my race, that which I alone have escaped, woe is me -- I resolved to spend the evening with my hood raised, writing poetry in my journal. Ere long, I had shed more than a few lamenting tears for the wickedness of my detested kin whilst in the throes of composition, and perhaps drew too much attention to myself. A small child drew close and asked me the names of my scimitars. "This is the noble blade Twinkle," I replied, "and that is its brother Icingdeath."

The boy seemed impressed enough, as well he might have been. Unfortunately, h... Read More

Today we hear from Tara of Helium, daughter of John Carter of Mars.

Tara of Helium: Today a most vexing matter disturbed the peace. My noble father John Carter, Warlord of Mars, came to visit together with my mother Dejah Thoris and my brother Cathoris. My father and brother fell to sporting, performing great feats and leaping in the air, displaying their superior strength for the amusement of the Barsoomians there gathered. At first all seemed well, but as he watched the idle play, the brow of my husband Gahan grew furrowed and his expression dark, until I asked him what so troubled the Jeddak of Gathol.

"Truly," said my beloved, "I realized not that John Carter's strength was passed to his son."

"That is strange, for it is no secret," I replied. "Were you more often in Helium, you would often see Cathoris perform such feats as these."

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This week, Marion secures (at great personal peril) what appears to be a genuine excerpt from the journal of the Lady Jessica of House Atreides!

Jessica: From the Personal Journal of Lady Jessica:  This morning I woke strangely disturbed. My beloved Leto snored gently beside me. Sometimes I think my love could sleep through a full Sardaukar invasion. I arose, donned my still-suit and wandered out into this harsh planet’s quiet dawn. Here, in the embassy’s austere garden, I have found two strange volumes. One is titled How to Raise Your Adolescent Superhero Without Going Crazy. The author is female – I believe the name is M-Kent or something of that nature. The second, slimmer book is Decorate Your Cave, by Ayla. I must ponder this discovery. Can it have meaning for Paul? For me? For millions of others? Perhaps our tame mentat will be of some help... Read More

Batman. For those times when you realize that every one of your King Arthur jokes is ludicrously esoteric.

Batman: This week, I read nothing at all. My war on crime leaves no time for such pursuits. Fortunately, I seem to have absorbed a good 70% of the Library of Congress at some point during my years of training, as I have no trouble recognizing the frequent literary references my enemies use (once, the mayor joked that it was a source of comfort to him that although the city is threatened on a weekly basis by madmen, our educational system must be quite extraordinary. I was laughing on the inside). Also, I seem to have a working knowledge of every branch of scientific study. I assume I picked this up somewhere between learning every martial art and becoming a stage magician. I'm Batman.

Marion: I finished John Lawton�... Read More

This time around, our guest speaker Elric of Melnibonë attacks a beloved friend completely without provocation. To the surprise of absolutely no one.

Elric: This week I read The Bane of the Black Sword, by Michael Moorcock. I'm the Eternal Champion, constantly adrift in space and time. I can do that kind of thing. I was most struck by the appearance of my friend Moonglum. I suppose I had to see the name in print to be sure. I always assumed it just sounded like Moonglum but was actually some barbaric cornucopia of vowels and double-Ls. Moaounglluiem or something. But no. Moonglum. Strange that I didn't realize just how silly it seemed before. Did his parents just decide to sandwich two words together completely at random? Might he have been Gigglecracker or Couchs... Read More

Today, Aslan. I considered doing Bigwig from Watership Down, but then I thought "how can I make this even more on the nose?" Anyway, I want to reiterate: today's guest is Aslan. The character. A talking lion invented by C.S. Lewis. No one and nothing else should be seriously associated with today's remarks.

Aslan: Today is a particularly special day. On this day, true Narnians give voice to songs and dance hearty reels in the halls of Cair Paravel. It is a day of feasting and of merrymaking, and if a book is read, it is that account of the table and the witch. You have a book like it in your world, though I shan't tell you exactly what the name is: that would be gauche. Anyway, today all are welcome, Narnian or no, to celebrate in whatever way they see fit.

Except Susan. Likes boys that much, does she? Well, fine. She can just tart herself up for a night on ... Read More

This week, Jirel of Joiry throws down the sword & sorcery gauntlet.

Jirel: Whilst trapped in an ineffable darkness beneath the earth, I came upon a certain codex bathed in light (from whence either light or text came I could not say). Tarrying there some breaths ere returning to my forlorn odyssey, I took up the volume out of a whisper of curiosity. I found it to be the account of a man's life, a warrior called Conan of Cimmeria. I passed no more than twenty leaves ere I felt my soul ablaze with disgust: this Conan was clearly a ridiculous, affected pansy.

Kat: I was pretty busy this week, so I didn’t get a chance to read as much as usual, even on audio. I did manage to finish Robert A. Heinlein’s The Moon is ... Read More

This week, we hear from a great King of Men, fallen into shadow....

Bill: This week I read Guy Gavriel Kay's River of Stars, certainly one of my best reads of the past few months and a rare five star review (on its way).

Brad: Other than finishing the first volume of Beautiful Creatures and rereading Murakami's After Dark, primarily I've been reading comics. I just reread the awesome cosmic events in Marvel's Annihilation and Annihilation: Conquest mini-series. I also reread the entire run in the Criminal series by Read More