Terry Pratchett, by contrast, outgrew his “Tolkien-a-like” phase at the age of seventeen, when he published “The Carpet People”, a basic LOTR copy but one which, even at that age, humorously subverts it by setting it among microscopic people living in a carpet. That fantasy section is usually stuffed with overextended trilogies of eleven numbered books, getting more and more brick-thick as you go, and frequently starring characters that rip off Tolkien while missing the message of ”The Lord of the Rings” and thinking Aragorn and Gandalf are the main characters. Discworld is often shuffled under the fantasy section of the bookshop, but to do so is to misunderstand its core principles. If you have not yet acquainted yourself with this magnificent work of fiction, then I urge you to do so. Before I begin, I should preface this article by saying that Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series is probably my single favourite book series of all time, one which I grew up with and was a profound influence on my own writing and humour.
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