He looked longingly, she wept bitterly, they sighed bitterly.

Yet I still read onwardly.

Rothfus doesn’t really let the reader do much work for himself. He tells too much and he uses awkward language far too much. There’s is absolutely nothing original going on here and it’s only because I’m not bored that I keep going.

It’s not bad, it’s just not that great. Anyone could have written this.