Hello, folks, and Happy Thursday! Wishing everyone all the purrapy they need. Speaking of needing therapy, I finished reading Frankenstein. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, though the last 10% really dragged for me because Victor kept monologuing instead of expiring already.

In need of a break from flowery language after Dracula and Frankenstein, I'm now about a third of the way through "The name of the wind" by Patrick Rothfuss and wondering if epic fantasy written by men just isn't for me. So far in this book we have a god who impregnated a virgin so he could have a body to incarnate in, a dude who sacrificed an eye for more knowledge and a main character with such nobility of spirit that all it takes after three years of rough living on the street (during which time he purposefully set a guy on fire, an event that had zero impact on his character) is a bath for everyone to mistake him for a noble. Do stop me if any of it feels familiar. I'm calling this "David Copperfield, but make it fantasy" on account of it being presented as an autobiography written in first person.

(If anyone loves this book, i mean no offense, I just have my own particular pet peeves that are making me not enjoy it to its fullest)

I think I'll try again with "Earthsea" because even though I don't love Ursula K Leguin's writing I think I can finally appreciate that she was at least trying to shake things up. Maybe third time will be charmed.

Ok, book rant over. Jane Eyre will be my next read, I wonder what I'll find to complain about there. Have a great day, everyone!