OK, so this isn't an indie book, but I'd like to include my review in case it's of interest. It raises some points about trends in fantasy writing, which I hope other writers might start to address. Donaldson's always been a peculiar writer, often reaching for obscure words when a simple one would be better. Sometimes his choices are risible and draw too much attention to his attempts at craft; at other times they are spot on and refreshing.
He's also not shy of flaunting the advice most modern fantasy writers get about pace and starting with action. Pace is decidely lacking from the first part of the book. I think there were about 143 pages of Linden Avery standing in a glade in Andelain trying to make up her mind what to do next. Imagine an unestablished author sending that to an agent!
There is, however, something magical and engaging about The Chronicles. Despite my criticisms, I couldn't stop going back and reading more. Yes, it's rife with fantasy-speak, too much introspection and frustrating pages of circular dialogue; but the themes of futility and despair, with their correlatives of a mystical self-surrender worthy of Jean Pierre de Caussade, ane enthralling.
The plot - when broken down and set apart from all the rambling - is incredibly simple: a few show-piece encounters with various nasties. The real story is that unfolding within Linden Avery herself. Over-cooked at times, yes, but compelling nonetheless.
In spite of Linden's descent into despair, this story never quite reaches the emotional intensity of Morn Hyland in The Gap Series. There is something distancing the reader from the emotion, and I don't think I'd be the first person to suggest it's the language. Linden may be a doctor, and Covenant may be a novelist, but unless the reader is a lexicographer they're unlikely to get drawn into the characters; and even if they were, we all know people don't really talk like this or think like this (particulalrly when fleeing for their lives before some hideous bane).
What I do like, however, is Donaldson's willingness to go against the increasingly homogenised grain of modern fantasy. He takes a different approach, plums the depths of psychology at the expense of pace, and risks failure. To a large extent, in my reading, he succeeds. His was a world I wanted to keep returning to, and in spite of my observations above, I'm now forced to consider why that is, and whether or not the current trend in fantasy could learn something here.
One last point: the Kindle price is ludicrously high!
