I conciously skipped writing last night. Let’s call it laziness. I did replace it with reading a new book and going to bed early. I did not, as previously threatened, watch copious amounts of bad TV.
The book I picked up in Houston last week reads well enough, but isn’t in my sweet spot. I like my fantasy a bit more fantastical. A couple chapters in I discovered the author is part of a group blog I read. With a little more rooting about I found some my-thoughts-on-writing-and-genre type posts she’d done. One of her things is historical accuracy.
Her emphasis on this accuracy shows in the text. I’d not call it invasive, but I would call it evident. People that shouldn’t have experience with horses don’t and only the clergy and some of the rich can read. The effort definitely recommends the practice, but it does seem she’s gone out of her way not to be inaccruate–except for the magic of course. Which strikes me as disengenious–or some other big word that means dumb.
When I’m done I suspect I’d recommend the book in general but I’m not sure I’ll be picking up the other six in the series unless she drops a plot bomb on me. Fortunately, her more recent work is available via a free ebook from Tor.