The Way of Kings is the first book in The Stormlight Archive, a still-being-written high fantasy series by acclaimed author Brandon Sanderson.

I’d given Brandon Sanderson a shot. His first published novel, Elantris, was given as a gift to me for my birthday several years back. I read it, enjoyed it, and was interested in him. I watched his storytelling lectures and was impressed at his thoughtfulness within the genre (we’ll talk more about that in a minute).

Then I listened to the Audiobook of The Way of Kings, the first book in Brandon Sanderson’s high fantasy magnum opus, The Stormlight Archive.

I gotta say, my respect, enjoyment, and admiration only deepened.

So, who is Brandon Sanderson? And why should you read The Way of Kings?

Brandon Sanderson

I might not get a chance on this blog to put out my thoughts on Brandon Sanderson (though I hope to finish The Stormlight Archive as it’s published so far). So here goes!

Brandon Sanderson is one of the most famous still-working writers.

He is the author of high-fantasy, science fiction, and Young Adult (YA) novels galore. He is extremely prolific, oftentimes publishing a book a year, along with other short stories, novellas, and projects. He has several podcasts, an amazing and insightful YouTube channel, and is a guest lecturer at Brigham Young University, or BYU, in Creative Writing (those lectures are published on his YouTube channel, which I watched). He is a devoted husband and father of three children.

He’s kind of a nerd, and a normal guy, and talkative with fans. He fairly often posts on Reddit or on his own YouTube channel or Twitter (X), replying to fans, discussing aspects of his life or his work. He’s even given out for free draft versions of his novels, just so obsessed fans can compare the different versions of his work as he’s worked on them. In an infamous article on Wired on Brandon Sanderson (here it is), which Sanderson himself responded to (here), the article writer Jason Kehe called Sanderson lame and boring. And honestly, as a person, he kind of is. He hasn’t lived this extreme life. He hasn’t been all over the place. He’s religious, he’s a dad, he’s a husband, he’s a nerd. There’s not much to it. And he’s one of the most successful living authors.

That, to me, is awesome.

In thinking about Brandon Sanderson’s work, I compared him to the towering giant of fantasy, J. R. R. Tolkien, and the peak of modern popularity of fantasy, George R. R. Martin. I know that Sanderson might cringe to be compared to the two of them, especially Tolkien, but hey, why not?

J. R. R. Tolkien, the father of all high fantasy and the writer of The Lord of the Rings, was fascinated with language and myth. How does language shape the myths of a people? How does myth communicate universal beauty and truth? That caused him to write High Fantasy.

George R. R. Martin, author of A Song of Ice and Fire (better known as the books that Game of Thrones is based on), is fascinated with history, especially high medieval history, and the process of recording history. Who are the heroes? Who are the villains? How does it feel to live in that cutthroat world? How does history get written? So, he wrote Game of Thrones.

Brandon Sanderson is fascinated with the Fantasy genre.

What makes it tick? What makes it work? How do I take apart the staples of the genre and put it back together again? How does magic work in Fantasy universes? How does worldbuilding? How do characters?

He is well-known for outlining all of his books, creating intricately detailed plans for his worlds, his stories, his scenes, and his characters.

Of course, this breeds blessings and curses. The blessing is that this has allowed him to create the literary equivalent of the Marvel Cinematic Universe: Instead of a bunch of movies all set in the same universe, he’s created a bunch of books in the same universe called The Cosmere. It’s a truly spectacular, and ongoing, feat of fiction that wouldn’t work if you plan your worlds by the seat of your pants… as, I have to admit, I do (raises my hand).

The curse is that he’s open to the criticism of formulaic writing. I couldn’t cite specifics, but I’ve heard and read things like, “Oh, all of his characters have two traits and a hidden aspect of mysterious past.” “Oh, all of his characters are just do-gooder heroes with depression.” “Oh, all of his writing is full of cliches: his prose isn’t good: he nodded. He sighed. He said. Nothing original.”

I haven’t read enough of his work to know if all of his characters are like that. I don’t know if all of his plots are like that. I can’t really answer the criticism.

Besides with this:

“Does it matter?”

Someday I’ll talk about the Go-To Guru’s theory of storytelling (see, I’ve thought about how stories work too!) The basics of the theory is this:

There are three components to stories. The Story, The Telling, and the Audience Reaction. The Story is an interconnected series of events, driven by characters. The Telling is anything ancillary to the story itself: the actual words used, the angle of the camera, the amount of episodes, that then inform the story itself. The Audience Reaction is how an audience will think about and react to the story. For example, in my story set in the modern day, I don’t have to explain a gun. But if I set it 1500 years ago, I might have to explain what Greek Fire is. But if I gave my story to a man 1500 years ago, I wouldn’t have to explain Greek Fire, but by golly would I have to explain guns.

All of these inform your story.

Here’s the thing:

If the Telling isn’t the greatest, if an Audience member might bristle at repetitive word choices, but the Story is excellent, does it matter?

I can watch a movie with awful animation, horrible camera choices, and sometimes-quirky dialogue if the story is excellent and grips me and keeps me involved. I can read a book with half-decent prose, formulaic characters, and full of tropes – not saying Sanderson is that, but even if he was – if the story is excellent. If the series of events was connected well, with characters who might not be interesting in their own right but take action and do and fight and learn within this series of events, set in a dynamic world that’s so similar yet so different from our own.

In short, the Audience Reaction isn’t as important as the Telling which isn’t as important as the Story itself.

And on that account, I think Sanderson more than succeeds.

And I don’t even agree that his writing is necessarily boring or formulaic or prose-less. People snob at Tolkien all the time for not being a “true writer,” but nowadays more and more people (like this amazing podcast here) are coming around to the idea that, hey, maybe one of the most influential writers of all time really was a great writer. Just because Sanderson doesn’t write like Tolkien, or James Joyce, or Tolstoy, or Shakespeare, doesn’t make him a bad writer. It just means that you, as an Audience Reactor, are looking for different things in your stories than Sanderson might be offering to you.

Ok, rant over.

But what about The Way of Kings?

The Way of Kings: The Good

Only minor spoilers here, and in the criticism section. If you’re avoiding spoilers, you should be able to read and still not have too much ruined for you.

The Way of Kings is an intriguing first entry into this high fantasy saga, playing on Brandon Sanderson’s worldbuilding strengths by making the world itself into one of the story’s greatest mysteries. However, it sometimes suffers from being overly repetitive as the characters uncover these mysteries.

The world of The Way of Kings is alien to us. Every portion of it isn’t like our own in some way or another.

The climate? Rock-tearing storms called Highstorms envelop the continent every few weeks, bringing on a new season each time.

The flora and fauna? Animals and plants have had to adapt to the alien world, leading to most plants having hard shells or casings that they retract into whenever a storm comes.

The religion? It’s based around those storms, believed to be caused by the Almighty, or the Stormfather.

The people? They’ve had to adapt, too. Buildings are always built with a “stormside” and the opposite. Wars are fought during open weeks – and you can’t get caught in a highstorm. Cultures are insular or otherwise, either battering down their hatches for highstorms or riding the winds far and wide to trade or conquer. Every culture, every people group, is unique, with their own traditions, taboos, and expectations.

The spirits? Like an animistic religion come to life, these creatures called spren pop out of every crack and crevice. There are spren of objects – wind, fire, earth. There are spren of emotions – anger, pain, sadness. There are spren of ideas – honor, creativity, victory. These spren infest every part of the world, and make the world of the Stormlight Archive seem like the world our ancestors must’ve seen in every tree, river, and mountain thousands of years ago.

The magic? Somehow, different types of gems, diamonds, and crystals can absorb the power of the storm, called “stormlight.” That stormlight fuels near-invincible armor called Shardplate. Along with it comes soul-slashing Shardblades, which can cut through everything except human flesh. Instead of cutting living things, it cuts their soul, leaving their bodies as corpses.

Every aspect of this world is well-thought-out. In particular, the Alethi, the culture of 2 of the 3 viewpoint characters, is the most deep. It’s segregated several ways: into “lighteyes” and “darkeyes” (the color of your eyes determines your rank), into men and women (men don’t learn to read, do history, art, music, accounting – those are “women’s arts,” as is sweet food, while men learn farming and war and only eat spicy food), even into left hand and right hand (a woman’s left hand is her “safe hand,” always gloved or covered by a sleeve, that isn’t to be seen by anyone but family); finally, into Brightlords, High Princes, and King. This is the culture most well explored, and you get to see it from a Lighteyes and a Darkeyes point of view – from the top-down, and from the bottom-up.

As you can see from even this short summary, it’s clear that Brandon loves worldbuilding. Wander into Lord of the Rings, and the world itself is basically fairy-tale Europe. Yes, there are subtleties and differences, but watching Lord of the Rings feels like “our world but different.” Same with George R. R. Martin and A Song of Ice and Fire. Yes, it’s got seasons that last years, but other than that the fact of the geography and, you know, the magic and dragons, the actual world feels like “our world but different.”

Not Way of Kings. It feels like you’ve entered an alien world. From top to bottom, no assumption we make as people has been left unturned. Sanderson even accounts for some of the modern sensibilities his characters have in a deeply religious world. For example, one of the main characters is an atheist, very rare in that world. Such a thing, in 1200s Europe, would have been unheard of. However, it’s clear Sanderson is thinking more of a world parallel to 1600s and 1700s Europe, and backs the cultural expectations to get there. He’s created a world where secular scholarship has existed for some time, as well as criticism of religion. In short, he’s placed a character that makes sense in this world with modern sensibilities, rather than just awkwardly stapling in a modern character into a world that couldn’t have brought that type of person about.

He’s clearly thought of this world well. Discovering all these unique parts of the people and history and cultures and geography and biology, is fascinating. You’re often making discoveries with the characters as they uncover new cultures, new ways of thinking, and new magic. Or, characters are deliberately not thinking about information they’re keeping hidden from themselves, and you discover it as the novel goes along. Each of the characters has world-based mysteries they are embarking on: who is this spirit, called a spren, that is following me? Why am I having mysterious visions? Who are these people in my drawings? Who are the Parshmen? Why does he hate lighteyes so much? Why did Gavalar read this book before he died? All of these are world-based mysteries. There’s lots of mystery, and fun to uncovering the mysteries, in The Way of Kings.

I haven’t spoken about the characters yet. That’s not because I don’t like them. I do. Kaladin, Dalanar, Adolin, Shalan, Jasnah, Shen, Lirin. They have divergent points of view, different cultures, different views on the world, different pasts. As you unspool these unique characters, you find people to pity, love, root for, and hate. All of them feel locked into this world that Sanderson has created; all feel like they belong.

I mentioned before that some have accused Sanderson of being formulaic. While I have some criticism of The Way of Kings, that isn’t one of them for the characters. Many of them are not purely good or purely bad. They believe they are good, sure, but they have blind spots, dark areas, and dark pasts. They all have faults; sometimes, they see all too clearly the flaws in each other. Each of them are different enough, varied enough, and interesting enough to hold their own.

It’s truly immersing yourself into somewhere so alien, foreign, and unique, but with people that have so much similar to us at their cores at the same time.

The Way of Kings: The Criticism

However, if there is a criticism to be had, it’s in the nature of these mysteries. Sometimes, the plot becomes repetitive as you discover and uncover these mysteries.

Our main characters are basically in 4 locations. 2 of the 4 are pretty much the same location, but they couldn’t feel farther apart: the war camps from a darkeyes and lighteyes point of view. Not that you need to move around for a story; you can deeply explore single areas, and these characters do. This could be fine.

Our main characters pretty much have the same questions from the beginning to the end of the story. Yes, they get added onto, they get deeper, they get more questions on top of questions; but there isn’t a point in the plot where we really pivot from one to another. In theory, that can be fine, too.

Our main characters pretty much have the same cast of characters around them the whole story. You find fairly early the cast of people that surround them, and then you uncover more and more about those casts, be they big or small. Again, that can be perfectly fine.

The problem is that much of the mystery is focused in the worldbuilding. It’s slowly getting played out, teased out, in these stories. Most of the “more” that you uncover, if that makes sense, is in the form of worldbuilding.

In The Lord of the Rings, you add new characters on the adventure as you reach each destination. We explore some key destinations, but also get time in between. You find “more” not just about the worldbuilding, but you find “more” characters, and then find out “more” depth about these characters. There’s variety that comes your way even in this singular world. You’re asking new questions, and getting new answers, along the way. Same with A Song of Ice and Fire, especially in A Game of Thrones, the first book in the series. You’re traveling across the world – from the Wall, to Winterfell, the King’s Landing, to the Eerie, to everywhere in between. You’re finding new places, and each new place has more characters, history, and people to discover. I don’t think this type of framework is hard to understand.

At some point in The Way of Kings, I sighed. At some point, yes, I enjoy discovering more about Teft. But I’ve already spent several chapters learning more about Teft, and Rock, and Kaladin. At some point, I need someone new. I need a new place, a new situation, a new circumstance.

The characters run into similar, or slight variants on, the same problem over and over again. They try, they fail, they succeed, they get pushed back, the situation changes and they try something new, over and over again. Locked into these locations and circumstances, they try again and again. As they do, they slowly uncover some of the mysteries of the world over time.

For example, Kaladin is put into a Bridge Crew, basically a suicide group of slaves and punished exiles who lead the army in trying to cross huge cliffs and gaps during battles on the Shattered Plains. He’s in that crew the entire book, basically. He tries some things to get the group together; he fails. He finally finds a way to get a few on his side. Then a few more. Then he saves some. Then he saves more. Then he gets set back. Then he finds a new way to save them. It’s the same situation, over and over again, More and more details of the worldbuilding are discovered as he tries and fails. However, it’s the same set of circumstances, characters, and mysteries pretty much the entire book.

It gets repetitive after awhile, especially since this one book is almost longer than the entirety of The Lord of the Rings, combined, for word count. It’s about a 40 hour long audiobook, more than three times longer than the entire Lord of the Rings film trilogy, about the same length as the first two seasons of Breaking Bad. This one book that is this long in a forthcoming 10-book series focuses on 4 situations pretty much the entire time.

Again, this is fine in theory. This could all work. But add all of these elements together, add the fact that the mysteries remain throughout the book, and it can get really repetitive sometimes. “Alright, it’s another chapter of the same mystery; we’ll learn a little bit new, get a bit of an element, get a bit of a twist on the situation. Then move on.”

Two caveats to this. First, maybe it’s just me, but I figured out several of the mysteries pretty early on. Perhaps, because of that, the slow unspooling of the mysteries was more repetitive for me than it might’ve been for someone else who was more “along for the ride” and not trying to solve the mysteries while they were reading or listening.

Second, Sanderson does break up the flow. He has several “interlude” chapters, chapters in far-flung locations across the continent with people we (usually) don’t see again. They spice things up a bit, provide a new location and a new mystery to unravel. However, the variety is ruined a bit because oftentimes those chapters are contributing in some way to the mysteries of the main story. “Oh, someone offhandedly mentioned this thing in this interlude chapter; oh, that’s how it connects to that mystery. Alright. Sounds good.” That makes them seem possibly more repetitive. The through-line is the mystery, and after a while of beating your head against a wall in regard to the mystery, you can feel, “Why go on?”

Conclusion

But go on.

Whether you’re reading the book now or are going to later, go on.

Yes, the book is sometimes repetitive. Yes, it is similar situations most of the book. Yes, it can be frustrating to have solved the mystery, only for it to be solved by the characters 500 pages later.

But go on.

It’s worth it for this insanely well-realized alien world that is The Way of Kings. Perhaps I spent so long criticizing because I’m worried people won’t give the book a chance because of the repetition. People might quit halfway through, or take a break and don’t come back.

This is my chance to say, go on. You’ll find characters to love, people to hate, and a world to get lost in. It’s a feeling you won’t get often. But give this one, and this author, a chance. In the end, you certainly won’t regret it.