It’s almost like a book on philosophy disguised as a speculative story collection.

Like many things out there beyond my complete comprehension, this book escapes precise description.

It’s Harry Potter meets Shogun meets The Fire Next Time

I left with nightmarish visions of the end of days and a new genesis for global events of calamity.

Everyone should be reading short fiction. It’s good and good for you. Case closed.

A head-swimmy dive into a dream.

Here I am, reading another book about the meaning of life.

“God, how we get our fingers in each other’s clay.”

There’s something about reading “the best” of something that just feels exciting and as I dabble in my own writing, influential.

A creative, novella-sized story from a talented writer exploring the experience of a coma patient. Or is it?

I’m doing it. I’m giving a King book two stars, and I do so with a heavy heart.

In the little understanding I have of Yann Martel, he seems to like bringing animals and humans together.

What a ride, what a series, what an epic story.

There’s hardly any use in putting the book down just to find yourself reaching for it again.

We’ve made it through the rough parts and emerged to a worthy reward.

The end is in sight, and the signs are coming fast.

There are neither beginnings nor endings in the turning of the Wheel of Time. But New Spring is a beginning...before the beginning.

An arranging of pieces before the final stretch takes off.

This is clearly the epic of epics. Even during the rough parts, the dense and the unnecessary, it’s impossible not to see it.

The idea is enchanting, to say the least.