The last time I went on a Terry Pratchett Discworld binge, I was living in Adelaide with Alison, and devoured her collection of twenty or forty books at the rate of one a day, or one every couple of hours; it’s that kind of story. This time, I was in my usual — funny how a bookshop is like a drug dealer, the answer is always, “yes” — bookshop, ordering China Miéville’s Between Equal Rights: A Marxist Theory of International Law (har, yes, me reading Marx), and decided to raid the now rather plump science-fiction shelves. And they do have a lot of Pratchett, and I do enjoy the easy, simple pleasure of his world.
The Death Trilogy — Mort, Reaper Man, Soul Music I decided on because it’s three-for-one!, and features my favourite character, who always intones in small caps. It’s also quite big so it fills quite some space on a shelf. I’ll try and resist going on a Discworld bender, as one book equals around half a day rehearsal space hire (no, books aren’t expensive, rehearsal space is cheap).
