The consistency of this man’s writing across genres, tropes, lengths, characters, worlds — it’s maddening. Tress of the Emerald Sea is a wonderful short fantasy of the type that has grown more popular of late, sort of the “cozy” for spec fic, the reality TV show of spec fic, the short snippets. Its magic system involves a sort of rapid maturation and growth of spores that turn into various living forms like vines, crystals, and (checks notes) possessed black demon goo.

Tress of the Emerald Sea is VERY Princess Bride, narrated in Hoid’s voice — sort of “what if Buttercup quested in search of Westley.” It deals primarily with themes of the tension of courage and planning, of searching for one’s identity, of trust (complete with several headnods to the now infamous WIRED piece and Sanderson’s forgiving response). The voice is pretty funny, whimsical, self-aware in a way Sanderson normally isn’t — certainly not for this long — and so it’s a fresh take on his style in the midst of his strengths.

If you’re looking for a good on-ramp to the Cosmere, this is an easy one-and-done piece that is more The Odyssey than Warbreaker’s Hadassah: One Night with the King, instead of Odysseus we have a young window washer girl who collects cups and, more or less, follows the character arc of St. Patrick. With magic.

Best I can do to sell the book. I loved it. I started slow like I often do, slogging away at night before bed. Then eventually it took me up and swept me away for several hours, which is what I need these days.

I will say one thing. Sanderson (via Hood) said you can’t rhyme with the world bulb. So I wrote this:

Sanderson said that you can’t rhyme with bulb —
Rhyming in lexicons often agree.
Neither considered the mulberry tree,
the bulbil of leaf axils, deeper medula’s
bulbar paralysis (Vegas, my nerve):
the verve of the mid-word dueling rhyme
is better than slanting on pulp bulbously.