Pterry 17

Closing in on the final pages of this:

On November 30th, I started a re-read project of all 30 Discworld Novels.

It was something I promised myself I would do when I was finally able to track down a copy of the last one that had evaded me, Witches Abroad. The idea being...since this series isn't one that you have to read in order...that once I finally owned them all it would finally be time to re-read all of them. And this time, do it in the order they were published. I've read all of them before...except for book #30, which I got from The Beloved Wife as a gift and incentive for this project.

Read them all again, in order, in a year or less. And after I turn the last page on Monstrous Regiment (#29) I'll have two brand new Terry Pratchett Discworld novels to read. Because by then, #31 will be in stores, as well.

So I was off to the races.

So to speak.

Because right about two months into this...I was promoted at work. My free time went out the window. Instead of doing two jobs there, I was covering for a third. And my expected pace of 3 books a month became a pipe dream of epic proportions.

In the last few months, though, I've managed to get back fairly close to where I should be, and I'm feeling confident that I can manage to hit my November 30th date with time to spare.

Anyway, digress over. Back to the Golems.

It's amazing to me how good repetition can make things (sex, for example, leaps to mind). Some movies become better with repetition, like Star Wars flicks. Some make more sense (like Memento or Pulp Fiction). This is the first time in a long time that a book has gotten better the second time around for me.

I've enjoyed revisiting each of these books. The first three, like they were the first time around, were a breeze, centered around the wizards, clever references, and the most unlucky bastard in all human existence. Mort was what it's always been: the first peek at how brilliant a writer Pterry can be when he has the right subject matter. And on I went, through the introductions of the witches, the Night Watchmen, and all the rest. The side-trips for the one-off books (Moving Pictures, Pyramids, and Small Gods), especially relishing Pyramids (always one of my favorites) and Small Gods (the first one I ever read, roughly 8 years ago). And just last weekend, I dipped into book #17, Feet Of Clay.

This is the first one that made me want to write something about it. I barely remember hitting this one the first time. It was the first in a series of five books I had found at once, as I recall, on sale at Borders in Colorado Springs (DAMN that was a great bookstore...sigh...). With the happy prospect of five new (to me) Pratchetts ahead, and the next new one due in stores in a couple months, I ripped through this one and the next two or three in a hurry (which is great, considering those others are next up again, and I can give them better attention this time...).

I remember liking the story, as I have done with all of them (except maybe Jingo which I didn't devote much brain to, as I got to that one when my marriage collapsed and EVERYTHING sucked in my opinion). I remember being impressed with his use of Golems in his first real murder mystery novel, and that it was a solid outting for the characters in the watch. But the next novel was a Rincewind story, with a China-like setting, and Clay wound up being forgettable because I was so excited to have another story of my favorite wizard.

This time around, I've spent a week absorbing every word, shocked at my inability to remember whodunnit. And what a ride it was. Pterry wove a fabulous tapestry of mystery, twists and turns, and blew me away this week. My favorite has always been Lords And Ladies, because the book is just so brutal and heavy. But I think Feet Of Clay just unseated it. And I can't wait to see if another one bumps this one in the coming months.

If someone is reading this (which I doubt, as I very seldom ever promote this blog anywhere), I urge you to think long and hard about who your favorite author is. Pick up one of their titles you don't remember very well.

Maybe it'll surprise you, too...