A Sum Greater than Its Parts

I'm an excitable boy.  I'm susceptible to bouts of euphoria when I stumble upon something new and interesting and I can go a little over the top while trying to share my enthusiasm.  (You might even say my purple prose flow thick as sap). It can even be embarrassing when the flames of my latest infatuation die down and I find myself sitting with just another flawed thing whose glimmer of newness I mistook as an inferno of greatness.  I'm not a bitter or spiteful person however so I don't turn on my past loves but rather clear for them a nice spot on the curio shelf of my life and move on; perhaps to revisit them in a new light;  perhaps not.

It's in full acknowledgment of this flaw of mine that I yet once more jump into fray and will regale you with tales of my new, albeit revisited, obsession: Steven Erikson's fantasy series The Malazan Book of the Fallen.  (Given my paucity of posting you may be forgiven for not knowing this passion was put aside for a time, but trust me it was.  (Alliteration is fun))

I just finished reading book 8, of the currently 9 published books, of the 10 book series.  It wasn't my favorite book of the series, at all, but it started to tie together some of the bigger threads that have run through the series and now I'm glimpsing a potential for mind bending awesomeness that is staggering in its scope.  The word epic isn't grand enough to capture the incredible breadth and depth of the big story. 

My enthusiasm is silly, I know, I know.  But dammit, the series is good and I want to talk about it with someone.


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