On a slightly booksier note, the death of author James Oliver Rigney Junior, more widely known as Robert Jordan, has sent ripples through the literary world.

The writer of the twelve book epic series The Wheel of Time, passed away earlier this week after battling a rare blood disease.

Only fifty-eight, Jordan was on the cusp of completing the twelfth – and final – book in the collection, which follows the adventures of farmboy Rand al’Thor, also known as The Dragon Reborn, who is destined to battle evil in a mythical land.

So far, so fantasy, or so I thought. Much to the amusement of my friends I fully endorse a healthy portion of fiction and fantasy to take the edge of the harsher reality of everyday life – okay, books are my drugs of choice and have been since I first cracked open The Hobbit aged six – and Jordan’s books seem to form the foundations of much of the fantasy literature around today.

Save for Harry Potter perhaps. But I defy you to read the Inheritance series and not see parallels in the beginning. One read of Jordan and you will know you have found the heir to the throne of Tolkien.

Whether The Wheel of Time books will find their conclusion remains a mystery, but for readers who have made their way through the first eleven – some volumes totalling over 1,000 pages – the demise of Jordan comes as a double blow.

For now, however, I am mid-way through the first installment, The Eye of the World, and I am mighty contented knowing eleven remain…I shall be antisocial for the next, oh, three years?!