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 comes off totally cranky, but seriously, that would be a lot of horseshit to sort through, and it’s not going to happen.
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 the spirits came all in one night! They can do that, they are spirits.
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 is unable to care for his virtual self, at least, not whilst yuletiding and wassailing in real life.
In Which Your Humble Blogger catches up a bit.