I admit it – I’m tired of saving the world. Honestly, can’t the place just stay saved already?
Sure, I like the occasional epic fantasy; Independence Day was great, and the Lord of the Rings will always be a classic. But the casts of thousands, the endless nightmare landscapes, the ever-exploding firestorms/alien rays/arcane disintegration spells – a steady diet of Save the World is like a steady diet of Death By Chocolate dessert. Sooner or later you run screaming for something else. Anything else.
I want more small stories. A tiny cast of characters. One special unit and the people they know, one magical circle, one lab, one small town. I want books I don’t have to flip through twenty pages of characters in the back to figure out who we’re dealing with in the latest chapter.
I want longer-lasting story lines, where you can read more books in the setting, lots more… and if it’s a world-ending crisis in every book, sooner or later you just can’t suspend disbelief anymore.
I want stories that have problems more of a scale I could imagine dealing with myself. Because I want stories that let me get out of the world as it is, and for that I want to be able to put myself in the hero’s shoes. “If it were me in this mess, what would I do?”
And if, despite everything, a world-threatening Evil Overlord should pop up – I want more of that classic line from the Mighty Ducks: “Nobody takes over the world from my precinct!“