Of all the things I expected to feel when I picked up Kevin Hearne’s new epic fantasy, boredom was not one of them. Unfortunately though, there it was, creeping up on me despite my immense efforts to give this book a chance. It actually pains me to admit this, because I love Hearne and he’s an awesomely funny guy who normally writes great stories, but as much as I tried and tried to like this, something about A Plague of Giants just did not work for me. Granted, the book opened with a promising and energetic introduction, setting the scene for a charismatic bard to take the stage before a crowd of weary but optimistic survivors who have all gathered in the public square to hear him recount the history of the Giants’ War. By using his magic, a particular kind of kenning that allows the bard to take on the forms of different people, he begins adopting the physical appearances and voices of the book’s many characters, each of whom have a unique story to tell related to their experiences during the giants’ invasion. Subsequently, we are treated to a parade of these narratives presented to us one after another, letting…