Top Ten Best Fantasy Series

Writers draw inspiration from one another. Our creativity is a spark all its own and the best need nothing but the kindling of their own thoughts for fuel, but it’s a fact: a writer, every bit as much as the average reader, is inspired by their peers.

The other day I was poked, prodded and more generally had my interest piqued by a friend demanding that I slap together a list of my favorite fantasies. “There’s fifteen billion such lists on the Internet already,” I cried, but he persisted. It would be interesting to see, he insisted, the reasoning behind a writer’s choice for choosing other writers. To see from where they themselves draw inspiration. I have decided to acquiesce. Thus, without further ado, I present to you a top 10 list of the best fantasy series currently out there, in my humble opinion. This does not include Stand Alones…a separate list might come about for that later. We shall see.

Note: none of these are ranked against one another. This is simply a general TOP TEN—within, they are for all intents and purposes of this list, as equals.

The book fans have been waiting for...

The book fans have been waiting for…

Write like the wind, Martin. What the song doesn’t build enough on, of course, is the reason we want him to write like the wind (and the reason legions are incensed he hasn’t). Martin has left an indelible mark on the fantasy genre, forever engrained within it the notion of the dark or “realistic”—the idea that fantasy needn’t be romantic to be escapist.

A Song of Ice and Fire is a masterpiece of storylines which get more and more intricate with time, and what’s more, its character range the spectrum of class, color and creed to such a degree you cannot help but find someone, somewhere in which you’re going to become invested.

One of Bakker's gems.

One of Bakker’s gems.

Gives me shudders every time I read it. The Prince of Nothing series, by R. Scott Bakker is a perfect blending of philosophic nihilism and gritty, realistic fantasy. He takes what Martin began and twists the blade into still deeper, darker places, while provoking thought and reflection over the human condition and the horrible things people will do to one another. It’s not a series you’ll come out of feeling all roses and sunshine, but rather as though you’ve gone through the Slog of Slogs (relevancy points), conquered, and become all the more fascinated for it in how the world shall end.

The Prince of Nothing also handles magic in such a devastatingly destructive manner. It is unique, particularly in its intrinsic mix into the battlefield and the different forms the various schools adapt.


When all else fails, there will still be the Black Company.

The slogan holds true. The Black Company goes through some serious pitfalls. That’s because this series perhaps kickstarted the whole realistic fantasy genre, and while it has not had the widespread cultural phenomena impact of Martin’s books, it certainly inspired them. The series is predicated on one notion: war is messy, it’s terrible, and everything about it goes quickly to hell; beyond that, it’s all shades of grey.

It’s action-packed, and unique in that we are given legion for characters—we have main characters, to be sure, but the Black Company ITSELF nearly acts as its own, separate character, an interwoven, realistic mass of toiling personalities all pushing forward the greater whole in one way or another. The characters are soldiers. They don’t wish-wash so much as fling themselves from one hard decision to another, and their honor code often trumps morality, lending a curious dynamic and food for thought on the righteous of war—ANY war.

Plus, as with The Prince of Nothing, it shows how magic would actually, likely be used in the real world. The grandiose gesture, the nascent trickery, it’s all there, but the Company and its enemies use it in a manner conducive to war, to survival—not unlimited power, but an extra trick used in conjunction with traditional tactics to gain a leg-up on one’s enemy.


Team Corwin. To hell with Merlin.

Sorry, I’m opinionated—isn’t that the whole point of this piece?

The Chronicles of Amber is quirky fantasy at its best. Scheming family, silly twists, endless plotting and planehopping; this tale is the tale of order versus chaos, complete with allusions to Shakespeare and quantum mechanics. It is also the tale of one man’s unfortunately insatiable need to keep spawning more children. Seriously, Oberon.

This series is, to put it simply, fun. There is scarcely a dull moment and the characters are so enjoyable it’s difficult to cast aside from them, even as they make some rather poor decisions.


Has the third day dawned yet, Patrick Rothfuss?

First off, let me get a few things out of the way. The Kingkiller Chronicles does nothing other fantasy novels haven’t done before it. It’s a coming of age tale, it’s a doom on the horizon tale, it’s a quest tale. What Patrick reveals, however, is it’s HOW a book is done, not what is it about that makes it what it is.

Patrick weaves prose together in a fashion that makes my heart beat like a first year English student at a poetry reading. It is musical, elegiac, a true bard’s tale with a narrator that is at once unreliable, fascinating and altogether human (despite his heroic tales) for the former. It also carries us into a character’s head in a fashion matched and surpassed, perhaps, only by the writings of Robin Hobb. I’m among the many that felt the second book didn’t live up to the first, but I suspect that second to simply be suffering from “middle child” syndrome, and have great faith the third will wrap up nicely what the first book began.

An iconic image for us all, to be sure...

An iconic image for us all, to be sure…

It happened. It’s a classic. It’s the thing from which all other fantasy works can claim ancestry. Without it, neither I, nor any other modern fantasist would likely be scribbling in quite the same way. Moving right along…


How could I not include the boy wizard? If for no reason more than the fact that he and Rowling revitalized and inspired the imagination and fantasy for a new generation, this series deserves a permanent place in anyone’s top ten.


When I think of Ursula K. LeGuin, I tend to think of her bountiful contributions to the Sci-Fi realm, but she has also made a lasting impression on the world of Fantasy as well. With Earthsea, she takes the coming of age story, and the wizard saves the world story, and casts both into a nautical story that really set the foundations for the modern obsession with the wizard school staple.

What it lacks in the, say, complexity of modern fantasy, it makes up for in perspective, and offers us plenty of meaning to cradle at night. Each book in the Earthsea cycle prods at some of the great struggles of the human condition—writing wrongs we ourselves created, a fight for identity, the struggle to overcome death. The story may be familiar to many of us nowadays, who bask in the legion of copiers, but Ursula shows what traditional fantasy should look like.


Character. Character. Character.

It is the hallmark of Robin Hobb and oh, no one does it quite like her. It was a hard fight, it must be said, to choose between her series for this one. Yet in the end I had to give it to Tawny Man. A continuation from the Farseer Trilogy and a prelude to her current series, the Tawny Man brought us the character of Fitz in an older point of his life and engaged more heavily with the Fool, who should hold a special place in the hearts of any reader of Robin Hobb’s works.

Robin shows that story—which is still a strong component of her stories—needn’t always trump character. Through the person of Fitz, she has demonstrated that if you can pull us into the mind of a character, we will follow you wherever you lead us, treat his troubles as our troubles, long to see wherever else his journey will lead. Fitz has been with us since childhood, and carries us into old age, and is perhaps one of the best, most fleshed out characters in fantasy history.

Robin shows the art of personality in writing. I would stand up in front of any English class and point to her Fitz, her Fool, as case-and-points of how to craft a human.


The beginning of a unique tale…

Let me begin by saying this: The Long Price Quartet is not, in any sense, standard fantasy. Not the modern kind. Not the classic kind. It truly is its own concoction.

These books aren’t about the action. In the first book there isn’t even a soldier or battle sequence to be found. They aren’t about epic, good or evil, world-ending monstrosity versus legions of paladins.

It’s a story, plain and simple, without excess, moved along by fully realized characters breathing life into a strong plot. They are flawed, they are at points strong and weak in turn, and it is the convergence of their moralities, decisions and consequences which shape not only their own character, but the nature of two worlds: one clinging desperately to the past, one marching steadily toward a new foundation.

Book Review: Blood of Dragons

blood-of-dragonsI have indulged in the intricate weaving of character development that is the Rain Wilds Chronicles much as I have engaged all of Robin Hobb’s other works: from the beginning. Hobb is a master storyteller, but where she really shines is the molding of characters, pounding out personality with emotion and pulling them along in such a way that leaves us all not merely intrigued, but attached. Her heart is in it, and she wants our hearts to be in it as well—and one can feel it here in Blood of Dragons as surely as any other.

Let me begin by saying this is not a book of intense action. They tell me the devil’s in the details and Robin Hobb loves details. They pour out of her into a rich, beautifully developed world. Unfortunately, this also means a slower pace—but if you enjoy character-driven narrative and worldbuilding as much as I do, that won’t be the problem for you. And that said, this book is quicker than its predecessor, lacking that “middle” book syndrome that unfortunately seemed to plague it.

But first of all: welcome to Kelsingra! If you read the last book (and why are you reading this if you haven’t? Bad reader, bad!), this will pick up right where you left off, with our weary group of outcasts struggling to achieve that final dragon dream: flight. Of course, this leads into another hunt, as the dragons begin to crave a substance from the deepest of their memories: the mysterious Silver that was once the lifeblood of the city and its many, fancier properties. Meanwhile, with Chalcedean assassins on the loose and the bumbling, vindictive Hest still stalking about, danger has not yet passed.

Also: Elderling baby. And the continuation of the birdkeeper plot that’s started off chapters from the beginning.

Suffice to say, there’s still a lot of wrap up. The sheer wealth of characters the series has pulled in has guaranteed that. And in that regard, I will give Hobb this: she definitely wraps things up with a tidy bow. The conclusion to several of the character arcs were genuinely enjoyable—and for me, at least, so were the opening developments with Alise, which, let’s just say: it’s about time. I’m still not entirely sure why Hobb felt the need to toss in the part of Selden into the mix later in the game, but it does help with the coming together—and probably sets up potential for more adventures later (I.E. more series).

My genuine befuddlement, however, comes from the fact that as slow, laboriously paced as these books could sometimes get, the ending, the grand conclusion herein, felt so utterly rushed. Without committing any sort of spoiler death here, I’ll suffice to say it was startling to observe just how off-screen and minimalized the whole matter was, particularly when Hobb spends so much time building everything else up. While her primary focus is (and always has been) her characters, I think this particular short-change to the action was a touch off-putting.

That said, I will keep this review going to make one more point—the main point of the series itself, in all honesty: the Dragons. All along, I have found the development and characterization of the dragons the most unique and intriguing piece of these novels. From their own growth as outcasts and malformed “rejects,” as it were, to prideful longing, and the sometimes subtle ways more human characteristics have been leaking into their psyche. Each has their own personality, rather than falling back on the classic, “Dragons are mean!” or alternatively “All Dragons are good!” mindset. They come to us as a bizarre mirror of ourselves—like humans with a lot more weight and more than a few neat tricks up their sleeves.

But in the end, I have to say: if put to a matter of “stars,” this one earns a 3.5/5. The story and character development are rich, but things truly can drag their heels from time to time. These books take a certain brand of fantasy lover to fall in love with them, but for those that know and enjoy the style, Blood of Dragons will not disappoint.