So Robert Jordan died yesterday*, author of the fantasy book series, The Wheel of Time. An epic tale spanning over ten books, each about a thousand pages.
I started the series as a teenager, and then during my first year at UVA, Robert Jordan came to a book signing at the UVA bookstore. Buried somewhere among my old photos, there is a picture of us smiling together.
About two books ago, I stopped reading. Several years lapsed between the last books in the series, and I had forgotten many plot points during undergrad. I resolved that once the final book was released, I would take a week sometime, maybe during a vacation, and read the series from beginning to end.
Sure, the plot had gotten out of control, with nearly 40 main characters at last count. And the last book I read (over 700 pages) took place during a single day, relived from each character's perspective. (that was painful.) But it started out solid, with a great plot and an intense cultural tapestry as involved as Tolkein's. Frankly, as a writer, I've been dying to know how he'd resolve the writing mess he'd gotten into - even more than how he'd resolve the plot.
Now, I may never know the ending. But I bet now he's finally figured it out, and would love to get his hands on a pen and some paper.
*If you're a Robert Jordan fan, go here for more info.
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