The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
I’ve talked about this series several times in the past, and in the upcoming months I’ll be talking about it a lot more. For the next 3-4 months I’ll be re-reading the entire series in preparation for A Memory of Light coming out in January.
Along with my normal reviews at the end of each book, I’ll try to have a couple of posts throughout the course of the week talking about the book. If you’ve never read The Wheel of Time, there’s no better time to start, and if you’ve read it a dozen times, there’s no reason not to read it again to prepare for the final book. Either way, I hope you’ll join me as I read through this wonderful series.