On Sunday I finished reading River of Stars by Guy Gavriel Kay.
On Monday I tried to start another book.
I only managed a few pages. The new book’s prose couldn’t compete with Guy Gavriel Kay’s prose. I found I couldn’t read it, couldn’t focus on the story beyond the words.
I don’t want to name the author, because, truthfully, she’s not a bad writer. I’ve read her other books. I’ve enjoyed her books before and never had a problem with her prose. It’s as good as most other writers out there. It works.
But it can’t compare with the prose in River of Stars. It just can’t. The prose is poetic, vivid and clear. It is a pleasure to read and it works on many, many levels. I hadn’t quite realized how much I enjoyed the prose until I started something else.
It is difficult to go from poetry to plainness.
I have never ever reacted like this before. (I think I waited a while when I read my last Guy Gavriel Kay book before going on to read something else.) It’s amazing.
I’m amazed. I feel like I may be ruined for most other prose. I am not sure what else I can read – who else I can read! – that will be as good.