why

>>8318102
Inoffensive genre trash, meant to be read whilst taking a shit, just like every other fantasy novel. It never ceases to amuse me when people who would stoop to read this act snooty about it.

gorillions of talents dude

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>How to be a beta orbiter: the novel

>This evening Irma had been more tiresome than ever. What was it, she had inquired, over and over again, which prevented her from meeting someone who could appreciate and admire her? She did not want him, this hypothetical admirer, necessarily to dedicate hiswhole life to her, for a man must have his work--(as long as it didn't take too long)--mustn't he? But if he was wealthy andwishedto dedicate his life to her--well, she wouldn't make promises, but would give the proposal a fair hearing. She had her long, unblemished neck. Her bosom was flat, it was true, and so were her feet, but after all a woman can't have everything. "Imove well, don't I, Alfred?" she had cried in a sudden passion. "I say, Imovewell?"

>Her brother, whose long pink face had been propped on his long white hand, raised his eyes from the tablecloth on which he had been drawing the skeleton of an ostrich. His mouth opened automatically into something that had more of a yawn than a smile about it, but a great many teeth were flashed. His smooth jaws came together again, and as he looked at his sister he pondered for the thousandth time upon the maddening coincidence of being saddled with such a sister. It being the thousandth time, he was well practised, and his ponder lasted no more than a couple of rueful seconds. But in those seconds he saw again the stark idiocy of her thin, lipless mouth, the twitching fatuity of the skin under her eyes, the roaring repression that could do no more than bleat through her voice; the smooth, blank forehead (from which the coarse, luxuriant masses of her iron-grey hair were strained back over her cranium, to meet in the compact huddle of a bun as hard as a boulder)--that forehead which was like the smoothly plastered front of an empty house, deserted save by the ghost of a bird-like tenant which hopped about in the dust and preened its feathers in front of tarnished mirrors.

It's not bad, at all. But that story within another story bullshit bored me

>>8318127
The second paragraph actually has some interesting imagination, but the first is more par for the course: bland, insipid, stagnating dross.

>>8318111
Why are you implying the time around taking a poo is nonintellectual? Some of my most profound thoughts have occurred to the evacuation of a large poo.

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The part where he performs the song is great.

>>8318799
Exactly. I've read numerous classics of literature and the sci-fi/fantasy genre on my kindle in the shitter.

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>>8318111

>>8318111

>inoffensive

try again bub

The NAME of the WIND

NAME
WIND

NAME
A
M
E

WIND
I
N
D