Just get in your boat and save me.

Maybe I’m just a mutinous whore, but I hate when my wizard books are ruined by romantic intrigue. There is a reason why Arwen is barely mentioned in Lord of the Rings. And as funny as it was to read about Harry Potter making out with Ginny Weasley, I would have been just as interested, if not more so, had she been eaten by a giant snail monster. Correction. I would have been infinitely more interested by the snail monster, because how often do you get to read about one of those. Teens making out? If I wanted to see that, I could just go to the nearest mall.

Really this is just a lesson in not taking book recommendations from strangers. A few weeks back, after viewing “How to Train Your Dragon” for the second time, I thought to myself, “Amanda. If you go see this movie one more time in theatres, people are going to think you’re a nut ball.” So I decided to expand my horizons, and attempt to find some other fantasy book involving dragons, Vikings or some combination of the two. Clearly the universe was against me, because I wandered aimlessly up and down the aisles of Barnes and Noble’s fantasy section and found absolutely nothing. Nothing, I say! Disgraceful.

I had no choice but to turn to the internets, hoping that the tiny robotic man living inside my laptop could find me what I most desired. But all I found was a pit of lies and disappointment. That’s the last I trust an internet stranger on some random forum whose name I don’t remember to recommend me a book.

If memory serves me correctly, I believe I googled ‘Viking fiction,’ but the book did not contain a single Viking. Strike one. The work in question, “The Edge of the World,” by Kevin J. Anderson, consisted of myriad storylines crossing two rival countries named Tierra and Uraba, whose descriptions sound curiously similar to Europe and the Middle East. Strike Two for lack of original setting. Come on, a bunch of people who live in the desert, where scarves on the heads, veils and billowy pants, and you name it Uraba???

The most heinous crime, if I may get back to my original complaint, is that amongst the various threads are two characters from a city in Tierra called Windcatch. Isn’t that just charming. A young, newlywed couple, Criston and Adrea (she’s the perfect sassy, blond heroine whose mother is also an alcoholic) are soooooo terribly in love, but Adrea refuses to hold Criston back from his dreams of exploring the seas! Good for you, Criston! Knock up your wife and then leave her to harvest seaweed with her crippled brother and your mom, while you go play with mermaids and fight skeleton pirates.

BUT WAIT!!!! Omra, the son of the Soldan (sultan???) ransacks Windcatch, but instead of murdering the pregnant Adrea, admires her spirit, and takes her to be his next wife, because the Urabans can have many wives, and his favorite one just died. So chicky-poo marries the wealthy royal desert man, he adopts Criston’s blond baby, and they all live happily ever after.

Well, actually they don’t, because Omra’s second wife kills Adrea’s baby, and Criston throws a bottle into the sea with a letter and a lock of Adrea’s hair so it will find her and they’ll be reunited in the next book!!!! JOY!

Which all leads to a big ol’ STRIKE THREE. Maybe Anderson threw this storyline in there to widen his audience, to make it more than a fantasy story about dragons and castles and epic battles. But guess what? I don’t care about your stupid baby that got bitten by a sand spider. I think that any man who puts a lock of my hair into a bottle hoping it will cross continents to find me, is a moron. You want me back? How about trying to come rescue me? How about getting back in your little boat and sailing down the coast and ripping out Mr. Omra’s throat? Did you ever think about maybe getting off your ass and trying that, Criston?

No you didn’t, because you’re lame. And all you do is whittle boats for village children and cry.

In conclusion, I hate love stories.