On the other hand, I resent the hell out of Dan Brown. He writes painfully mediocre prose, tells trite stories, and Fortune has landed on HIM with both feet. I can only wish him a premature death (though in the interest of decency, he has my blessing to die quickly and painlessly...).
This brings us to Christopher Paolini, about whom I am undecided, though it is once again clear that Fortune has done the double-footed thing. I am not yet in a position to judge the STORY of "Eragon" (though my nephew Jake tells me it is the best book EVER), but I am already tired, after some 50 pages, of the prose. While he is far more readable than Brown, "Eragon" is still horribly overwritten, and grossly under-researched; Paolini gives me the impression that he has never done ANYTHING. There is simply NO excuse for a modern writer to EVER use the word "countenance" as a noun; the verb form still has legitimate if limited application, but the noun is pure fog.
None of this is to say that the story might not be good enough to overcome the thunderously clunky writing, and I am fully prepared to eat my words in that case. But in the meantime, the reading is EXHAUSTING.