I mistook "Eye Of The World" for the first book in a new trilogy and immediately put it on a mental wait-list for purchase. After all, the author was an unknown to me then. I found it interesting that the only copies I saw then were in trade paperback format, not hardcover. Being young and poor (-er) at the time, I only bought paperback books. Why - my reasoning went - pay full price for a book that's going to come out in paperback? EotW was the first book that messed with that, because it wasn't really either a paperback or a hard cover. What it wasn't was a trilogy that was finished, so I did not buy it.
When "The Great Hunt" came out, I was even more intrigued. The trade paperback format looked really good, there will still no hardcover books that I could find anywhere, and people were starting to talk. I would go to a book store and if there were two people in the scifi / fantasy section, they would be standing near EotW and discussing it. If there was only one, they would ask if I had read it yet, then tell me it was a "must read." Those small gatherings were like little mini-conventions. I was a little afraid of the fervor of those spreading the word of Robert Jordan, but also intrigued. How good did a book have to be to get that kind of word of mouth? But I was young and poor-ish, so I put off buying the paperback as long as I could.
When I finally did buy the first book (in paperback), I waited until a Friday night when I knew I had no plans that weekend to read it. I binge read it, as I did with all books I read at that time, and walked away as punch-drunk in love with it as all those weirdos from the bookstore. By Saturday night I was done. On Sunday morning I walked to the mall (something like a five mile walk?) and bought the trade paperback of tGH. I managed to maintain enough self-control to wait to read it until the next weekend. Then I was furious with myself for not waiting longer because the third book wasn't out yet.
"The Dragon Reborn" was the first installment in the series I saw available in hardcover. It was also the first hardcover book I ever bought. Imagine my chagrin when I finished it and discovered to my horror that it wasn't a trilogy.
I was hooked.
Every book after that I pre-ordered. For some reason, I recall the books being released late mid-week. Thursdays, maybe? Wednesday? I would buy them, then admire them for a day or two before I allowed myself to read them. The anticipation of the read was almost as good as the read itself. Those days were like the last day of school before summer vacation. I did things, but all I could think of the book I was about to read.
I would take that Friday off - skipping class in college, taking a personal day once I started working - and read them straight through by Saturday night with almost no sleep and less food in between. I did drink Coke-Cola, though. Coke-Cola was my lifeline. There would be maybe some candy, or a brief break for a fast food run. Pizza was always a favorite because it meant I could spend less time procuring food and it lasted for more than one meal. Which meal didn't matter.
The time between books was agony. Months and years sometimes of waiting, only for it to all be over in a span of a long weekend of reading. It almost never took me more than forty-eight hours to read a new book. For most of the books, I had a ratty old recliner that was great to curl up in, with a coffee table to one side to hold sustenance as I read. For me there was no "slog." There still isn't. I consumed each book in a state of near awe. My love of the books was a solitary thing I seldom shared. Critical thought took days or weeks after a read. There was a lot to be critical of, but none of it dimmed my passion for the books or the series.
For "Memory of Light," I took a week off of work. I knew this one was special, and I wanted to savor it. By then, Robert Jordan was gone, but his work remained. I was also married during the last few books, forcing me to find ways to self-isolate to try and recapture the singular focus the readings as a single personal had allowed. I forced myself to go slow, to take breaks, to go for a walk or eat a meal, but there was no point. I still read aMoL in about three days.
And then it was over. The ache of that is still in me and always will be. Fandom and the series to come don't come close to filling the hole in me left by Robert Jordan's passing and the completion of his vision.
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