From me, to you, with scorn.

Dear Patrick Rothfuss,

First, can I call you P.Roth? Good. We'll go with that. I've been reading your book lately, and just thought I'd drop you a line. It's a good book, really. You have quite the imagination, and I'm rather impressed by the complexity of your little story. Tolkien would be proud.

You don't intimidate me, P. Roth. 
Not even with your abundance of beard.
Or your Joss Whedon t-shirt.
I've seen Firefly. I know what's up.
(via)

However, I would like to discuss one thing with you. The story is gripping, truly, and the details are phenomenal, but they take up a lot of space. I knew the length of the tome before I started, both by a quick last-page assessment and by the amount of space it took up in my bag. I was not intimidated. Pulled into the story of our hero Kvothe, I read every chance I got: on my lunch break at work, in the evenings at home, in the mornings waiting for a coworker to come unlock the door, and even at the Mediterranean restaurant waiting for my falafel-to-go. But I got a little concerned when I reached the 450th page or so and our hero Kvothe was still just a young'n causing trouble at the University and chasing around his flighty-by-necessity pal Denna. And then when he was nearly expelled, I thought, "AHA! Some resolution is to be found."

Alas, no. 662 pages, and no resolution. None whatsoever. P.Roth, you're a bit of a sadist, leaving me hanging like that. Apparently you've written a trilogy, and the next installment comes out in March. What am I supposed to do until then? It's not like I can read anything else now. With every book's end I'll think, "Well, that was nice, but what the hell happens next to Kvothe?"

Tolkien didn't do this to me. He gave me all three Lord of the Rings volumes in one nice, neat little package. No mystery, no wondering for months about what happened to Frodo and Gandalf and all the poor little Shirefolk. Sure, he was long dead and buried when I first read his books, but maybe that's something you should consider.

Sincerely,

Carolyn
The Austin Bookworm


P.S. I don't really wish your death. You should not actually consider that. But please don't be offended if I announce, at any point, sober or otherwise, that I refuse to read any more of your books until I have a nice little commemorative box set sitting on my shelves. I won't actually hold out anyway. I'm weak and my curiosity always wins.

P.S.2 I actually sensed my impending doom disappointment when Kvothe made that witty little comment to Denna about his own story and how it was just leaving room for a sequel or some crap like that. You're clever, P.Roth. Very clever. But not so sneaky. I knew what was going to happen, but I had faith in you. I thought maybe -- just maybe -- you'd rise above base literary tricks intended to pique interest and guarantee an audience waiting for your next book with a hungry look in their eyes and their wallets open. I was wrong.

P.S.3 I have nothing else to add, but I thought it'd be funny to use "PS3" as an addendum. It would be even funnier if I regularly played video games or even owned a TV. In this case, it's simply ironic. But I don't have to tell you about that, you jerk. See P.S.2 for clarification, and please forgive my colloquial and not remotely accurate use of the term irony.