Sins of Empire
Sins of Empire by Brian McClellan
(Gods of Blood and Powder, Book 1)
SYNOPSIS
An epic new fantasy series from Brian McClellan, set in the world of his wildly popular Powder Mage trilogy.
A world on the cusp of a new age...
The young nation of Fatrasta is a turbulent place — a frontier destination for criminals, fortune-hunters, brave settlers, and sorcerers seeking relics of the past. Only the iron will of the lady chancellor and her secret police holds the capital city of Landfall together against the unrest of an oppressed population and the machinations of powerful empires.
Sedition is a dangerous word...
The insurrection that threatens Landfall must be purged with guile and force, a task which falls on the shoulders of a spy named Michel Bravis, convicted war hero Mad Ben Styke, and Lady Vlora Flint, a mercenary general with a past as turbulent as Landfall’s present.
The past haunts us all...
As loyalties are tested, revealed, and destroyed, a grim specter as old as time has been unearthed in this wild land, and the people of Landfall will soon discover that rebellion is the least of their worries.
REVIEW
⭐ ⭐ ☆ ☆ ☆
DNF. Did not finish; don’t want to finish. 🙅♂️
This book falls squarely into one of the most frustrating stereotypes of modern epic fantasy: being long for the sake of being long. Page after page, chapter after chapter, it stretches itself out with bloated scenes, padded dialogue, and meandering exposition that contribute little to the actual story. Conversations circle the same points, internal monologues repeat emotions that we’ve already understood, and scenes linger long after their dramatic purpose has been served.
You could argue that this is all in service of “world building” or “character development,” but good writing doesn’t need to bury readers in endless filler to accomplish those things. World-building works best when it’s integrated naturally into action and conflict, not when it pauses the story to explain itself. Character development thrives on meaningful choices and change, not on extended introspection that reiterates the obvious. There are tighter, more effective ways to flesh out characters or a setting than spending entire chapters on conversations that go nowhere.
This is a problem that plagues epic fantasy, where authors often mistake length for depth. But immersion isn’t created by sheer volume; it’s created by momentum, stakes, and emotional investment. In Sins of Empire, what should feel sweeping instead feels indulgent. The narrative seems content to wander when it should be driving forward. Worst is that there’s no urgency, no pull, no pressing question that demanded an answer. I had no reason to continue reading, and drained by the sheer amount of narrative inflation, the book feels like a chore that’s not engaging enough to justify its length.
