Promises

Some of my favorite contemporary authors have lately taken to promising books and not delivering. I recently finished rereading Jasper Fforde's The Fourth Bear which managed to delight me as near as much as ever, only to come to the back of the book heralding of the next book in the series, The Last Great Tortoise Race. It's been 11 years and I'm still waiting.

Perhaps even more egregious is Patrick Rothfuss who has written two-thirds of one of the best fantasy trilogies I've ever read five times, but he seems to have stalled out on the concluding volume. Six and a half years and we're still waiting. I'm not sure I'd find six and a half years so unbearable if it weren't for his air of irritation around people wanting a third book. I can only imagine what a burden it must be for large groups of paying readers to enjoy one's writing. Quelle horreur! Then still it might not be so bad if he didn't much go out in public, but sometimes it seems like he's involved in so many conventions, talks, and projects related to what amounts to his unfinished, partly published, and, admittedly, very long novel, he could hardly have much time to work on it.

But I don't mean to just rant to you. I do have a very important point to make about all this. And I will definitely do so, any second now. But don't hold me to that. Watch this space!