Now here is where I guess I've got to come in and tell you why I can't take Paolini's work seriously. Its not an issue of snobbiness, I just read that first book and it made me very very sad. I was seeing bits and pieces of cliched plots that had been done before put together in what was honestly kind of a haphazard manner. I mean, from the whole "My uncle who raised me is dead I must quest for understanding, also run for my life" thing was a little Luke Skywalker meets...well everyone else. And the fact that the magical mystical [noun] him and Old Man Mentorpants are search-questing for for hundreds and hundreds of pages ends up being...well, completely redundant is a huge letdown for the readers.
I've found that the best speculative fiction is the kind that is subtle with its cliches, the kind that doesn't immediately announce itself as something you've seen before. Inheritance instead, for me at least, waved a big flashy sign saying "YARR, HERE THERE BE BADLY REHASHED TOLKIEN!"