And as both my wife my graduate assistant would point out: I use #10 all the time, save that I susbstitue “sememster” or “academic year” for “week.”

Sort of like that Robin Williams line abouyt wine tasting: “Absurd, yet flaccid.”

As for the coffee, my girlfriend describes old coffee as tasting like feet. I’ve never tasted a foot, but it doesn’t seem very appealing.

Reminded me of a version of The Bible written in (1980s’) street lingo. Prose as written by people linguistically tone deaf.

BTW, did you know Sturm Brightblade died because his player left the game? If that don’t tell you something about the railroading going on…

Let me put it this way, had the trilogy been a write-up of one of my campaigns the minor characters alone would’ve been replaced at least twice. One of the worst influences on D&D outside of computer games.

I’ve actually been reading the annotated version of the Chronicles, where both Hickman and Weis make it clear that (a) they knew they weren’t doing their best writing, and (b) the process of converting the game to a novel proved to be much harder than they anticipated . . . so much so that, by the start of the second book, they’d given up on it altogether.

I do agree, Alan, that the book might give one a very optimistic view of the longevity of an AD&D character. The notes make it clear that, in the first book, none of the characters are above fourth level–Raistlin, the “powerful” mage, hadn’t even made it that far–and yet, they managed to defeat an adult black dragon, something that’s impossible for such low-level characters. Of course, Goldmoon also resurrected Riverwind *before* she became a cleric of Mishakal, but I suppose that’s beside the point.

Interestingly, Hickman noted that much of the theology of Dragonlance reflects his own Mormon beliefs–you’ll recall that Goldmoon was trying restore an ancient faith, the secrets of which were written on disks she just “happened” to find. Hmm . . . sounds familiar!

When evaluating the Dragonlance books, I tend to ignore the fact that they were written about characters in someone’s D&D campaign. Sure, there are mechanisms written into the story to account for the unusual magic system, but it never came into my mind to wonder what level a particular character was.

As for the rather tenuous link to Mormonism - I never considered it, but it certainly doesn’t bother me. I appreciate unique mythologies in fantasy. Mormonism, in nearly every way, is very unique.

I think what appeals to me the most are the values of the authors that come through in the work. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that this is also one of the reasons Mark likes the novels.

And you’re right, Dave, I do enjoy reading novels with characters who have values other than epater le bourgeoisie. Which raises the question of why I’ve never even finished The Fellowship of the Ring.

Next I’m starting in on the Greyhawk Classics books. I am fanboy, hear me bleat.

I read all the time, actually. Everything from the classics to Newsweek, though I admit I am a bit of a fantasy/SF buff. I am not a critic, however, and I try to appreciate each book for what it is, rather than comparing it to the work of other authors.

There *are* a few things that can turn me off to a book. Poor character development (Terry Goodkind), lack of plot (Mercedes Lackey), juvenile fixation on sex (Piers Anthony), and heavy use of cliche (any of the above) are all reasons I’ll stop reading.

Like I said before, though, the level of writing usually doesn’t affect me one way or the other. If Asimov hadn’t been accessible to me as a pre-teen, I might not have gotten into science fiction. Had Tolkien’s writing been simpler, I would have enjoyed the Lord of the Rings more when I first read it as a child.