As a child, I wondered what it was the orcs in The Lord of The Rings, or the ur-viles and cavewights of the Land hated about the world they occupied. In these books, evil seems focused on desecration for destruction’s sake. Other motives are not clear. Rule of the landmass? Then why are they so intent on destroying the land they occupy. In The Power that Preserves, Lord Foul’s army and preternatural winter strips the Land of anything useful. Water is poisoned or frozen, crops and food are blighted or dead. The only thing supporting Foul’s army is his all-encompassing hate.

In fact, Benn—or is it Todd—enjoys wasting pages of copy describing an expensive lawyer's lifestyle. Most of this novel is Benn getting in a car, getting on a plane, sleeping on a plane, getting off a plane, getting in a car, driving by stuff, thinking about his ex-wife, entering a prison, and meeting a bad guy. The characters grunt two words at each other and then our over-payed lawyer exits a prison, thinks about his past, drives by stuff, gets out of a car, goes to a hotel, gets drunk, maybe not, gets in a car, gets on a plane, and ends up back in New York. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Donaldson’s depiction of Morn’s abuse and addiction is more personal, therefore more troubling. Finding sympathy for a character that uses the instrument of her rape to rape another is difficult. The conditions Morn finds herself in are impossible to imagine. She is trapped on a spaceship that cannot cross the gap. She is alone, a bargaining chip for the life of Captain’s Fancy and the ship’s crew. Then she discovers she is pregnant.