Books like The Eye of the World

Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings is the closest living successor to The Wheel of Time, and not just because Sanderson finished Jordan's series after his death. The Stormlight Archive matches Jordan's scope in world-building, creating the hurricane-blasted continent of Roshar with its own ecology, theology, and physics. Sanderson's magic systems are more explicitly rule-based than Jordan's, with Stormlight and Surgebinding operating like natural forces that can be studied and understood.

The characters begin as damaged individuals: Kaladin is a slave, Shallan is hiding secrets, and Dalinar is haunted by memories he has paid to erase. Both series use a chosen-one framework but surround the central hero with enough supporting characters and subplots to make the world feel populated rather than staged. Sanderson plots with an engineer's precision, building toward climactic sequences he calls "sanderlanche" moments that recall Jordan's greatest set pieces.

For readers who want another multi-volume commitment on the same scale, Stormlight is the definitive recommendation.

J.R.R.

Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings is the foundation on which Jordan built, and returning to it after The Wheel of Time reveals both how much Jordan borrowed and how much he transformed. The quest structure, the pastoral beginning, the ancient evil stirring, the reluctant hero called from a peaceful land: Jordan took all of these from Tolkien and expanded them into a more complex political and magical framework. Tolkien's prose operates at a higher literary register than Jordan's, with a command of English that gives the story the weight of mythology.

The world-building is less systematic than Jordan's but arguably deeper, informed by Tolkien's expertise in linguistics, Old English literature, and Norse mythology. Both authors share the same fundamental belief that secondary worlds deserve to be built with the same care as primary ones. For readers who started with Jordan and have not yet read Tolkien, the debt is obvious and the reading experience is enriching in ways that go beyond simple influence.

Patrick Rothfuss's The Name of the Wind approaches epic fantasy from a different angle than Jordan, telling the story of Kvothe, a legendary figure narrating his own life from a rural inn where he has gone into hiding. The frame narrative gives the book a confessional quality that Jordan's omniscient perspective lacks, making every triumph and failure feel intensely personal. Rothfuss writes with a musical attention to language that distinguishes his prose from Jordan's workmanlike efficiency.

Both authors build academic magic systems with formal schools and structured learning, but Rothfuss makes the University a more central setting than Jordan's White Tower. The world-building accumulates through folklore, songs, and cultural customs rather than through exposition, creating a setting that feels inherited rather than designed. Both series feature protagonists who grow from humble beginnings into world-changing figures, but Rothfuss adds the question of whether Kvothe's legend matches his reality.

Readers who want Jordan's scope with more literary polish will find Rothfuss a strong match.

Ursula K. Le Guin's A Wizard of Earthsea preceded both Jordan and Tolkien's widespread influence, creating a fantasy world built on Taoist principles where magic operates through knowledge of true names. Ged, a young goatherd with raw magical talent, enters a school for wizards and releases a shadow through an act of pride that he must spend the rest of the book confronting.

Le Guin writes with an economy and precision that Jordan never attempted, telling in 200 pages what most epic fantasy writers take 2,000 to accomplish. Both authors write coming-of-age stories set in fully realized secondary worlds with systematic magic, but Le Guin treats the acquisition of power as a philosophical problem rather than a narrative escalation. The Earthsea novels reward readers who want the satisfactions of epic fantasy combined with the depth and brevity of literary fiction.

For those who love Jordan's world-building but sometimes wished he moved faster, Le Guin proves that epic scope and lean prose are not mutually exclusive.

Tad Williams's Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn trilogy began publication in 1988, three years before The Eye of the World, and Jordan acknowledged it as an influence on his own work. The series follows Simon, a kitchen boy in a medieval-styled castle, whose world collapses when the king dies and an ancient evil begins to stir.

Williams builds his world with an attention to culture, language, and history that matches Jordan's, and his Norns and Sithi races anticipate Jordan's treatment of the Aiel and the Forsaken. The pacing is deliberate, the world-building is layered, and the payoffs come slowly but with tremendous force.

Both series share a foundation of Tolkien's influence but expand it in different directions: where Jordan added gender-divided magic and a cyclical cosmology, Williams added a more explicit engagement with medieval politics and religious conflict. Readers who want another epic that rewards patience with the same density of lore and the same escalation from humble beginnings to world-shaking conflict will find Williams essential.

James Islington's The Shadow of What Was Lost taps directly into what made The Wheel of Time popular, building a world where magic users called the Augurs have been stripped of their power and forced to swear binding Tenets after losing a devastating war. Davian, a young student at a school for weakened magic users, discovers he has abilities that should no longer exist.

The structural parallels to Jordan are intentional and well-executed: the ancient prophecy, the divided magic system, the political factions maneuvering for control, and the slow revelation of a larger cosmic conflict. Islington writes with a clarity that keeps the complex plot accessible, and his mystery-driven narrative adds a layer of intrigue that keeps pages turning.

The trilogy completed its run in 2019, giving readers the satisfaction of a finished story with a beginning, middle, and definitive end. For those who want The Wheel of Time's formula executed by a writer who clearly studied Jordan's strengths, this trilogy delivers.

Ken Liu's The Grace of Kings reimagines the founding of the Han Dynasty as an epic fantasy, creating the island archipelago of Dara where gods intervene in mortal affairs and two rebel leaders forge an alliance to overthrow a tyrant before turning on each other. Liu calls his approach "silkpunk," blending East Asian history with fantastical technology and a narrative style that draws on Chinese literary traditions rather than European ones.

Like Jordan, Liu builds a world with its own technology, religions, and political systems, but the cultural sources are entirely different, giving familiar epic fantasy structures a fresh feel. Both authors write large casts of characters whose personal ambitions intersect with historical forces larger than any individual.

Liu's prose is more consciously literary than Jordan's, drawing on the episodic structure of Chinese historical novels rather than the quest structure of Western fantasy. Readers who want epic fantasy's scope and ambition filtered through a non-Western tradition will find The Grace of Kings an invigorating change of perspective.