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In the sense of "favorite bad fantasy book I like to complain about," my vote is for Mercedes Lackey's Arrows of the Queen. This was such pandering, predictable, wish-fulfillment cheese. There's a young bookworm girl in an oppressive patriarchal society that doesn't want women to read, and she's whisked away by a magical horse to the Queen's city itself, and she gets to join a special society and study magic, and she's very wise, and she's the only one who can look after the royal princess properly. Maybe I was the wrong audience for this ... the whole time I was reading it, I kept picturing some fourteen-year-old girl somewhere in a tie-dyed unicorn t-shirt reading the book and cheering. |
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