My tastes have definitely changed. I think it comes from getting older: although I have a degree of nostalgia for the stuff I grew up reading, I'd only want to go back to the things that I thought were particularly good or especially entertaining examples of their kind, such as Memory, Sorrow and Thorn.
I've found that, as I've grown up, the troubles of teenagers aren't really of that much interest in books, and there's a lot of that in fantasy (less these days, though): the discovery that the world isn't perfect, that damsels don't want to have sex with you just because you're nice, and that kind of thing. If I read another book where a naive young man discovers that killing people with sharp implements on a muddy battlefield isn't glorious fun, I'll scream.
Also, my tolerance for padding and soap opera has faded. I'm much more likely to put a book down or leave a series unfinished - not just if it's bad, but if it isn't sufficiently good enough to justify ploughing through thousands of pages to see who lives to the end. If other genres can produce powerful, enjoyable novels without needing several sequels, why can't we?
There's something else that I've come to dislike, but it's hard to quite put a finger on it. I think it's a lack of sincerity in a novel. I've read a few books where the author is basically winking to the camera, and I really dislike it. It's the same thing that puts me off Quentin Tarantino's films - if the author isn't taking this seriously (even if it is a comedy) why should I?
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cloud to yell at.
