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It's back! The Terry Goodkind mauling thread.


Mme Erzulie

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Yes, anyone who recommends Goodkind clearly has some devious ulterior motive. As Ser Barry points out, the recipient of such a dubious recommendation must ask him/herself "How would that treacherous bastard profit from me drowning in this literary crap?"

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Goodkind was the second fantasy I ever read. I used to read purely Sci-Fi and I asked a friend of mine if he could recomend a good fantasy novel, he recommeded Wizards First Rule. I had previously read LOTR's and that is probably why I keep reading fantasy. I made it several books into Goodkinds series before I ever quite but afterwards I did move on to better things. I was never like the people on his message board but there is hope for them. :pirate:

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:lol: Mme Erzulie - I'm so pleased you're reviving this thread. :) Really enjoyable.

Nice to have you back under your own name again, so to speak. An an appropriater avatar though I think you should ask Teri Pettit how to get laser rays shooting out as well. :P

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Ok, sorry for the slight delay. Hope this helps.

As morning wore on, the day became hot for this late in the year. The year had also been quite long for this early in this decade, which had icily jumped on all of them just after the last one, but what can you do? The sky was a bright, clear blue, with only a few white, wispy clouds drifting by. One of the clouds had taken on the undulating form of a snake, and not, as one might be tempted to think, the form of an undulating snake, with its head down and tail up. Yes, the cloud was that detailed. That, or Richard needed to cut back on the Bhang Lassis. Because it was so unusual, Richard remembered seeing the same cloud earlier in the day – or was it yesterday? Damn, those Bhang Lassis made it hard to keep track of time. He would have to remember to mention it to Zedd the next time he saw him. Zedd was a cloud reader [as well as a dandruff reader, seagull excrement reader and avid reader of the colored tabloids], and if Richard failed to report his sighting he would have to endure an hour-long lecture on the significance of clouds. This was what Zedd did every time Richard didn't mention clouds when they were conversing. Zedd was probably watching it this very moment, fretting over whether or not Richard was paying attention.

The path took them to the south face of Blunt Mountain, these guys are more inventive than the people of Two Rivers! where it crossed a sheer cliff face for which the mountain was named in a weird, reverse sort of way.Crossing the cliff near mid-height huh?, the trail offered a panoramic view of the southern Ven Forest and, to their left, in cloud and mist, almost hidden behind the cliff wall, the high, rugged peaks belonging to the boundary. It was, in fact, just the kind of cliff wall that was able to almost hide a line of rugged peaks. Go figure. Richard saw brown, dying trees standing out against the carpet of green. Up closer to the boundary the dead trees were thick. They can be nice trees even if they're thick, though. It was the vine, he realized. Sure that's not the wine, eh, Richard?

The two of them advanced quickly across the cliff trail. They were so clearly in the open, with no chance to hide, that anyone could spot them easily, but across the cliff the trail would begin to thead down into the Hartland Woods and then into town. Even if the men did figure out their mistake and follow, Richard and the woman had a safe lead. There wouldn't be any more problems. Richard could just feel it.

As it neared the far side of the cliff face, the path started to broaden from its treacherous, narrow width to a space wide enough for two to walk side by side. Perfect for walking hand in hand, Richard thought to himself, a bit ashamed at his thoughts. Richard trailed his right hand along the rock hard member of his man... no? wall for reassurance while looking over the side to the boulder field several hundred feet below. The men in these parts had been growing boulders for as long as anyone could remember. It was hard and joyless work, but so were the men. Hard and joyless. He turned and checked behind. Still clear.

As he turned back, she froze in midstride, the folds of her dress swirling around her legs.Is Richard in fact a hermaphrodite? That is one way to interpret this slightly ambiguous sentence. But we already know that you need to be on your tip-toes if you want to keep up with Goodkinds racing mastermind. In the trail ahead, that only a moment earlier had been empty, stood two of the men. Richard was bigger than most men; these men were bigger than him.[Goodkind's mastery of the English language is second to none. Oh, how he paints it all out for us.] Their dark green hooded cloaks shaded their faces but couldn't conceal their heavily muscled bulk. [ Their heavily muscled bulk was conspicuous, quite frankly, and anything but easy to conceal, even with dark green hooded cloaks.] Richard's mind raced, trying to conceive of how the men could have gotten ahead of them. Richard's mind lost.

Richard and the woman spun, prepared to run. She was a nun, it wasn't fun. They ate a bun, and saw the sun. From the rock above, two ropes dropped down. Wtf? Wasn't this a sheer cliff face? Which rock? They brought their own? The other two men plummeted to the path, landing on their feet with heavy thuds, blocking any retreat. They were as big as the first two. It's comforting to know everyone's size. Otherwise this would be really confusing. Buckles and leather straps beneath their cloaks held an arsenal of weapons that glinted in the sunlight which deftly defied the green, heavy cloaks and reflected merrily off of what lay beneath..

Richard wheeled back to the first two. I sure hope he's finished turning around now, Terry's fast running out of new words for this action. They calmly pushed their hoods back. Each had thick blond hair and a thick neck; Wait, am I picking up on something here? Thick.... equals bad? their faces were rugged, handsome. I think Terry is sad that there isn't slow motion in writing.

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As he turned back, she froze in midstride, the folds of her dress swirling around her legs.Is Richard in fact a hermaphrodite?

:lmao:

That would have made the whole Cara scene more entertaining.

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I think Mr Goodkind seems a bit confused by the immensely difficult topic of "cliffs". What kind of second-rate "Sheer Cliff Face" has a convenient path halfway up it? I've really no idea what the landscape is meant to look like in this scene even though he spent half the time describing it. I know Robert Jordan goes a bit overboard with his descriptions sometimes but at least they tend to be understandable.

MST3K'ing bad books seems to be quite good fun, I wonder what other authors would be suitable?

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WFR was the only book that I've read in my entire life that really really sucks. It has got to be the "worst book of all time/why on earth did I spend 5 hard earned $ on this piece of crap/at least I could have used the pages as toilet paper"

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WFR was the only book that I've read in my entire life that really really sucks. It has got to be the "worst book of all time/why on earth did I spend 5 hard earned $ on this piece of crap/at least I could have used the pages as toilet paper"

Well, I'm trying to make sure you get some sort of entertainment value out of it now. Keep the comments coming, guys, I'm such a whore for recognition, it really keeps me going.

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