In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn’t backdate the note, even though it was a 2010 read. I think I can keep track.
In Which Your Humble Blogger finishes up the year. The solar year, I mean. You know, January to December.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is at the sixth of three, and probably could have happily left off at two, but three different ways.
In Which Your Humble Blogger checks the calendar. Yep, it’s the twenty-first century. Whew.
In Which Your Humble Blogger enjoys the book, which is pretty much a straightforward Diana Wynne Jones book, and if you like those, you’ll like this one just fine.
In Which Your Humble Blogger finds a good one. A really good one. With a talking cat.
In Which Your Humble Blogger muses about whether people aren’t offended, or if they just haven’t noticed yet.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is hoping it’s the old-fashioned kind of trilogy, the kind with three books in it.
In Which Your Humble Blogger views the novel with American eyes, albeit, you know, twenty-first-century American eyes. Well, late twentieth century. OK, crappy nearsighted American eyes. Still.
In Which Your Humble Blogger catches up a bit.