Robert Jordan,* writer of the Wheel of Time series, died yesterday of a heart disease (cardiac amyloidosis).

Until about book eight or so, I would reread the entire series — all over again — before tackling the next book, but, with each book approaching 1000 pages (at a minimum), I wore out. I had to give away the books I had, because I new I’d just get back in the habit all over again. The plots (like the sentences) got to be too complex, too unresolvable, too political, too heartbreaking: I liked the characters too much. A lot of the threads that he left dangling for readers to bother themselves over until he hit book 13 (or book 12, if you don’t count the prequel), other writers (Terry Goodkind springs to mind) picked up on and ran with, maybe because they couldn’t stand to wait that long, either.

So I turned my back, waiting for the series to be over, or at least to have the last book waiting to come out in the foreseeable future. And now he’s dead, and I wasn’t even paying attention. Well, they may be able to get a writer (T.G. should be done by then, eh?) to finish the series from Jordan’s notes, but when? Maybe I should just start them anyway, keep them around for bad days when you don’t want anything more than hot chocolate and a book that promises you that you’ll never have to come back…

*”Robert Jordan” was a pseudonym. His real name was James Oliver Rigney, Jr. Another thing I didn’t know.