This is why I love shorter fantasy novels: Sign of the Unicorn by Roger Zelazny

About midway through the third book in the Chronicles of Amber, I came to the realization that these books are the perfect length for me. They’re about as long and as fast-paced as a typical L’Amour novel, which is to say that they’re less than 200 pages and feel like they’re less than 100. If I had nothing else on my TBR pile, I could easily breeze through one of these novels each week.

That’s not very typical of fantasy these days. After Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings became super popular, and Terry Brooks kicked off the epic fantasy boom of the 80s and 90s, it seems like every fantasy novel became a chihuahua-killing doorstopper of a book—and this was before Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time became for the Millennials and Zoomers what Lord of the Rings was for the Boomers and Gen Xers. And now, of course, we have Brandon Sanderson, who probably writes the equivalent of one Chronicles of Amber novel every week.

But it wasn’t always like this, or so I’ve heard. A while ago, I read an essay by David Hartwell where he pointed out that before Tolkien and Brooks, most readers thought that the natural length of fantasy was the short story. This was largely due to Robert E. Howard, who was a master of the short form—and before Tolkien, the biggest name writing fantasy for a general adult audience. I love the original Conan stories—I’ve read them all twice, and will probably read them all again sometime this year. I also love the Lin Carter and L. Sprague de Camp stories, though they aren’t nearly as good. (As for Robert Jordan… yeah, it’s probably best to stick with his Wheel of Time books).

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love Tolkien, and I enjoy Brandon Sanderson (though my personal favorite of his is The Emperor’s Soul, which is one of his shorter books). But speaking generally, I’ve come to prefer shorter fantasy over longer fantasy. Part of that is due to the pacing—though it is possible to write longer fantasy that is paced quite well, as Larry Correia has proven with his Saga of the Forgotten Warrior books. But the longer a fantasy novel becomes, the more likely I am to DNF or just give up on it midway through, which makes me reticent to pick up another doorstopper unless it comes highly recommended.

Fantasy readers who prefer longer books tend to argue that longer books give more of a sense of immersion in the fantasy world, but as both a reader and a writer, I’ve found that immersion doesn’t actually correlate with book length. Instead, it’s the conflict itself that tends to immerse the reader in the story: the tension, the stakes, the balancing of suspense vs. action, etc. This is a major mistake that amateur fantasy writers tend to make quite often: a book that focuses on worldbuilding at the expense of conflict will read like a slog, whereas a book that sinks its hooks in you immediately and never lets go will make you feel fully immersed, even if it explains almost nothing about the worldbuilding.

The Chronicles of Amber is a prime example of this. How does the magic work, exactly? Beyond the basic rules around walking the Pattern, and some elaborate hand-waving about the concepts of light and shadow, it’s never fully explained. If Brandon Sanderson wrote any of these books, it would easily turn into a doorstopper just to work out all the worldbuilding details that Zelazny never dwells upon. And yet, I feel totally immersed in these books, to the point where I feel like I’m right by Corwin’s side as he walks the Pattern or traverses Shadow.

My point is that when it comes to fantasy novels, longer is not necessarily better and shorter does not necessarily mean shallower. In the hands of a master, a short, quick-paced novel can actually be even deeper and more immersive than a doorstopper of a book. That is only one of the many reasons why I’m loving these Chronicles of Amber books.