You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
patchworkbunny's Reviews (2.12k)
Miriam Black sees how people will die. All she needs is skin on skin contact and she'll be blessed with an unpleasant vision of their final moments. We're all going to die, that's one thing that's certain. Most die of disease or accidents, but when she hitches a ride with Louis, she is shocked to see his brutal murder. She doesn't want to get involved, it is his fate after all and there's nothing she can do to stop it. Yet, as their paths keep crossing, Miriam starts to like the trucker and she must brace herself for the inevitable.
Miriam is foul mouthed and has a couldn't care less attitude on the outside. How else would she cope with the things she sees every day? Her visions aren't toned down at all and coupled with the language, means this book is certainly not going to appeal to everyone. Whilst I became concerned it was going to be all swearing and violence, Miriam soon starts to connect with people. The characters may be instantly un-likeable but as you learn more about Miriam, you begin to soften towards her. I did feel that Frankie, Harriet and Ingersoll were slightly stereotypical villains, sadistic and power hungry yet there's always one that doesn't quite belong.
The book goes back and forth between the now, where Miriam meets Ashley and Louis (gives a new meaning to “love triangle”) on the road and an interview she gives with Paul, the nephew of a man whose death she once foretold. There are also a few jumps to first person narration by certain characters but this is brief and the chapter headings are clear to point out the who and the when for those who easily lose track. The structure never causes the plot to lose pace and it barrels along until you're at the edge of your seat. There's a vein of dark humour throughout but I wouldn't say it made me laugh, except perhaps for Harriet's story the first time round. It is one line and to the point.
There is a sequel due out later this year entitled Mockingbird and I can't wait to find out what happens next. Obviously, I bought this for the extraordinarily wonderful, Joey HiFi cover. You should know me by now.
Miriam is foul mouthed and has a couldn't care less attitude on the outside. How else would she cope with the things she sees every day? Her visions aren't toned down at all and coupled with the language, means this book is certainly not going to appeal to everyone. Whilst I became concerned it was going to be all swearing and violence, Miriam soon starts to connect with people. The characters may be instantly un-likeable but as you learn more about Miriam, you begin to soften towards her. I did feel that Frankie, Harriet and Ingersoll were slightly stereotypical villains, sadistic and power hungry yet there's always one that doesn't quite belong.
The book goes back and forth between the now, where Miriam meets Ashley and Louis (gives a new meaning to “love triangle”) on the road and an interview she gives with Paul, the nephew of a man whose death she once foretold. There are also a few jumps to first person narration by certain characters but this is brief and the chapter headings are clear to point out the who and the when for those who easily lose track. The structure never causes the plot to lose pace and it barrels along until you're at the edge of your seat. There's a vein of dark humour throughout but I wouldn't say it made me laugh, except perhaps for Harriet's story the first time round. It is one line and to the point.
There is a sequel due out later this year entitled Mockingbird and I can't wait to find out what happens next. Obviously, I bought this for the extraordinarily wonderful, Joey HiFi cover. You should know me by now.
The Goddess Hunt is an ebook only novella set between The Goddess Test and Goddess Interrupted. If you haven’t read the first book in the series, this review may contain spoilers.
Kate is off on her summer “holiday” with James, exploring the Greek islands that her fellow gods once called home. When James takes her on a detour, they come cross twins, Pollux and Castor. They are not happy to see them, having been fugitives from the underworld for thousands of years.
If you enjoyed The Goddess Test, it’s a worthwhile little story. There’s a bit of character development, although not as much as I thought having read Goddess Interrupted first, which left me feeling like I’d missed out on something important. It’d another lesser myth added to the pot which wasn’t overly predictable and I enjoyed the tension between the characters. I’m not sure it would work as a standalone story though.
Kate is off on her summer “holiday” with James, exploring the Greek islands that her fellow gods once called home. When James takes her on a detour, they come cross twins, Pollux and Castor. They are not happy to see them, having been fugitives from the underworld for thousands of years.
If you enjoyed The Goddess Test, it’s a worthwhile little story. There’s a bit of character development, although not as much as I thought having read Goddess Interrupted first, which left me feeling like I’d missed out on something important. It’d another lesser myth added to the pot which wasn’t overly predictable and I enjoyed the tension between the characters. I’m not sure it would work as a standalone story though.
Simran is a social worker in Delhi, reluctantly helping a hospital supplying surrogate mothers to foreigners. When Amelia is born HIV positive and left without parents, Simran is determined to find someone to take care of the vulnerable baby and get to the bottom of her illness. Was it a tragic mistake or is there something more sinister going on? Meanwhile, deliveries of embryos are being held up in customs at Mumbai airport where staff are getting other ideas about the trade of human life.
Origins of Love is essentially, an accessible thriller, highlighting the murky world of medical tourism. From the start, Simran is a fantastic protagonist, the woman defying the social pressures of Indian culture to go it alone and forego children of her own. She relays a heartbreaking story of why she is scared of flying before launching into her investigation. She might lose her way a bit at times, but by then, I was completely immersed in the world of surrogacy and corruption.
There were times that the medical information seemed a bit far-fetched or slightly misleading, simply by the fact it wasn’t expanded upon. I know, that if we forget the ethical constraints of research, would could technically achieve some things, but this book isn’t really about that. It’s a case of hearing lots of potentially interesting stories and trying to fit them into one novel, as she freely admits in the acknowledgements that all the events have been based on real life occurrences.
Still, it whooshes along at a good pace and is an easy book to while away a rainy afternoon. The only thing really out of place is the story of Ben and Kate, trying to make connections to his grandfather and his colonial past. I’m guessing, Kishwar Desai wanted to make a point that the exploitation of India keeps happening, again and again, but it felt all a bit contrived. I think Ben and Kate could have easily been introduced as a desperate couple without any ties to India and contributed just as much, if not more, to the plot.
Origins of Love is essentially, an accessible thriller, highlighting the murky world of medical tourism. From the start, Simran is a fantastic protagonist, the woman defying the social pressures of Indian culture to go it alone and forego children of her own. She relays a heartbreaking story of why she is scared of flying before launching into her investigation. She might lose her way a bit at times, but by then, I was completely immersed in the world of surrogacy and corruption.
There were times that the medical information seemed a bit far-fetched or slightly misleading, simply by the fact it wasn’t expanded upon. I know, that if we forget the ethical constraints of research, would could technically achieve some things, but this book isn’t really about that. It’s a case of hearing lots of potentially interesting stories and trying to fit them into one novel, as she freely admits in the acknowledgements that all the events have been based on real life occurrences.
Still, it whooshes along at a good pace and is an easy book to while away a rainy afternoon. The only thing really out of place is the story of Ben and Kate, trying to make connections to his grandfather and his colonial past. I’m guessing, Kishwar Desai wanted to make a point that the exploitation of India keeps happening, again and again, but it felt all a bit contrived. I think Ben and Kate could have easily been introduced as a desperate couple without any ties to India and contributed just as much, if not more, to the plot.
Harper’s world is turned upside down when her older sister, June commits suicide. She was always the popular, pretty one, with her old life ahead of her. Harper is just normal. To top it off, her parents recently divorced and her interfering aunt is trying to convert her to the ways of God. June had always wanted to escape to California, so when her parents plan to split her ashes, harper decides to steal the urn and head to the Pacific Ocean to do the only right thing she can by her sister. She takes with her, her best friend Laney and the mysterious Jake, whose only connection to June is the mix CD she was listening to when she died.
Narrated by Harper, there is an authentic sounding teen voice throughout, which maybe makes it less likely to be a cross-over novel but bound to be a hit with younger readers. Jake is the quintessential music geek, educating Harper along the way. When I first saw there was a heavy music theme to the book, I was a little concerned, I’m so not down with the kids music wise, so it was with a sigh of relief to realise Jake loves the kind of music I have listened to throughout my life. There are handy playlists at the back of the book so you can make your own mix up beforehand if you’re unfamiliar and listen to the music along with Harper.
What Hannah manages to do well, is capture the mixed feelings of grief and helplessness of a teenager who feels she has no one to turn to, that her feelings might somehow be wrong. When she moves away from the emotive, I found the writing a little clunky in places, especially when describing every day acts. She seemed to dwell a lot on describing smoking too… Laney does manage to tell Harper it’s a bad habit but it feels like it’s just there for the sake of it.
The development of the relationship is nothing surprising but it’s an enjoyable read. Jake comes across as a much older character than eighteen but maybe that’s Harper’s perception of him. At sixteen, two years is a much bigger gap than it is for adults. I was hoping for more of the road trip element to shine through, but the narrative only pays lip service to the passing landscape, pausing only really for Fridge Henge.
Narrated by Harper, there is an authentic sounding teen voice throughout, which maybe makes it less likely to be a cross-over novel but bound to be a hit with younger readers. Jake is the quintessential music geek, educating Harper along the way. When I first saw there was a heavy music theme to the book, I was a little concerned, I’m so not down with the kids music wise, so it was with a sigh of relief to realise Jake loves the kind of music I have listened to throughout my life. There are handy playlists at the back of the book so you can make your own mix up beforehand if you’re unfamiliar and listen to the music along with Harper.
What Hannah manages to do well, is capture the mixed feelings of grief and helplessness of a teenager who feels she has no one to turn to, that her feelings might somehow be wrong. When she moves away from the emotive, I found the writing a little clunky in places, especially when describing every day acts. She seemed to dwell a lot on describing smoking too… Laney does manage to tell Harper it’s a bad habit but it feels like it’s just there for the sake of it.
The development of the relationship is nothing surprising but it’s an enjoyable read. Jake comes across as a much older character than eighteen but maybe that’s Harper’s perception of him. At sixteen, two years is a much bigger gap than it is for adults. I was hoping for more of the road trip element to shine through, but the narrative only pays lip service to the passing landscape, pausing only really for Fridge Henge.
Predators I Have Known is a non-fiction outing for sci-fi writer, Alan Dean Foster, in which he regales us with tales of his encounters with the predators of the natural world. From diving with great whites to outrunning ants, the writing is at its best when he is obviously passionate about the subject matter.
Unfortunately, the day to day travelogue anecdotes are clumsy and a little boring. We don’t need to know the details of how he got to the places where he saw the predators, especially when nothing particularly interesting happens on the way. Nor do his descriptions of the people he meets hold any charm. At times there is even a privileged smugness to the writing. Some of the chapters also seem like fillers and I’m not convinced it was written as a whole book, there are a few occasions where information is repeated where it really doesn’t need to be.
It’s interesting enough to pick up and read a bit at a time, but only really if you have an interest in the animals themselves. It certainly doesn’t work as travel writing and there’s not enough humour or eloquence to make it a purely pleasurable read without an interest in natural history.
Unfortunately, the day to day travelogue anecdotes are clumsy and a little boring. We don’t need to know the details of how he got to the places where he saw the predators, especially when nothing particularly interesting happens on the way. Nor do his descriptions of the people he meets hold any charm. At times there is even a privileged smugness to the writing. Some of the chapters also seem like fillers and I’m not convinced it was written as a whole book, there are a few occasions where information is repeated where it really doesn’t need to be.
It’s interesting enough to pick up and read a bit at a time, but only really if you have an interest in the animals themselves. It certainly doesn’t work as travel writing and there’s not enough humour or eloquence to make it a purely pleasurable read without an interest in natural history.
One day, a man walks away from his life and joins the circus. It’s not for the glamour; he meets Vlad, the aerialist one night at the circus and follows him back to his trailer for a one night stand. The next day he follows and begs to be allowed to stay. His time at the circus isn’t full of excitement and showmanship; mostly he’s cleaning out the toilets and being insulted by the alcoholic clown or the angry ringmaster.
We never find out the protagonist’s name, he is constantly referred to as “he” and is a little confusing until you work out what’s going on. The narrative is split into alternating past, present and future tenses which, combined with the anonymity, caused me to struggle to get into the story. The past covers his childhood and his friendship, and ensuing relationship, with the slightly pretentious Edward. It soon becomes clear that something must have happened in the past to make him such a needy, wet blanket. He is one of the most emotionless main characters I have encountered, even the scene where he breaks down in front of Vlad, it seems a bit distant, especially as the reader is not told the story at that time.
The present is his time with the circus. It is a modern day affair with caravans and acrobatics but no animals. The story doesn’t really go into the inner workings of the industry which I was a bit disappointed with; I’d like to have compared it to what I’ve read on the golden age of the circus, but that’s entirely personal. “He” is around about 40 from what I gather yet he still lives at home and hasn’t done a single thing with his life. I suppose by the end, there is some justification for this, but it’s hard to read through his apathy.
Then there were the passages in future tense which I found really hard going. It’s not a style that is natural to read and, although I thought it was an interesting exercise in narrative, I felt it went on a little too long to be comfortable. This part deals with his time after he returns home from the circus, where something has happened to his mother and the neighbours are overly concerned about his welfare. Because he’s erecting a trapeze in his suburban home. Yet the writing about the trapeze is still absorbing, being something that Will Davis obviously has a passion for, himself having trained in corde lisse, tissu and static trapeze.
We never find out the protagonist’s name, he is constantly referred to as “he” and is a little confusing until you work out what’s going on. The narrative is split into alternating past, present and future tenses which, combined with the anonymity, caused me to struggle to get into the story. The past covers his childhood and his friendship, and ensuing relationship, with the slightly pretentious Edward. It soon becomes clear that something must have happened in the past to make him such a needy, wet blanket. He is one of the most emotionless main characters I have encountered, even the scene where he breaks down in front of Vlad, it seems a bit distant, especially as the reader is not told the story at that time.
The present is his time with the circus. It is a modern day affair with caravans and acrobatics but no animals. The story doesn’t really go into the inner workings of the industry which I was a bit disappointed with; I’d like to have compared it to what I’ve read on the golden age of the circus, but that’s entirely personal. “He” is around about 40 from what I gather yet he still lives at home and hasn’t done a single thing with his life. I suppose by the end, there is some justification for this, but it’s hard to read through his apathy.
Then there were the passages in future tense which I found really hard going. It’s not a style that is natural to read and, although I thought it was an interesting exercise in narrative, I felt it went on a little too long to be comfortable. This part deals with his time after he returns home from the circus, where something has happened to his mother and the neighbours are overly concerned about his welfare. Because he’s erecting a trapeze in his suburban home. Yet the writing about the trapeze is still absorbing, being something that Will Davis obviously has a passion for, himself having trained in corde lisse, tissu and static trapeze.
Time is a funny old thing. It drags whilst we’re at work or in a waiting room yet flies by at the weekend and everyone is convinced that times speeds up as we get older. In Time Warped, Claudia Hammond looks at the theories behind why this happens, investigating the mind boggling world of time perception.
It’s an incredibly fascinating book for anyone that has wondered why time appears to change so much. Perhaps if you already know a lot of psychology the book re-treads familiar subjects but for the curious minded, it is at just the right level to be educational and entertaining. The inner workings of the brain are miraculous and mysterious, and Claudia is keen to imply that there are no absolutes in the science of psychology. There are many theories mentioned which have been debunked but overall it gives an all-round picture of what might be going on inside our heads.
Some of the experiments are downright bizarre. Most are historical and none are Claudia’s doing; from the volunteers who were dropped backwards off the top of a skyscraper to the Frenchman who lived in an ice cave for two months. Yet what strikes me most, is that most of what we’ve learned has come though those who have suffered brain trauma or live with mental illness.
Whilst it’s not a self-help book, the final chapter is entitled Changing Your Relationship with Time which gives a few tips to some of the most common aspects we perceive as problems. I had joked at work that I’d learn how to make the day go faster by the end, but this was the weakest part of the book. Some of it was due to the nature of my job and others felt like things that you could have picked up easily by paying attention to the previous chapters. Yet overall, it was a fascinating read and has made me want to read her other book, Emotional Rollercoaster.
It’s an incredibly fascinating book for anyone that has wondered why time appears to change so much. Perhaps if you already know a lot of psychology the book re-treads familiar subjects but for the curious minded, it is at just the right level to be educational and entertaining. The inner workings of the brain are miraculous and mysterious, and Claudia is keen to imply that there are no absolutes in the science of psychology. There are many theories mentioned which have been debunked but overall it gives an all-round picture of what might be going on inside our heads.
Some of the experiments are downright bizarre. Most are historical and none are Claudia’s doing; from the volunteers who were dropped backwards off the top of a skyscraper to the Frenchman who lived in an ice cave for two months. Yet what strikes me most, is that most of what we’ve learned has come though those who have suffered brain trauma or live with mental illness.
Whilst it’s not a self-help book, the final chapter is entitled Changing Your Relationship with Time which gives a few tips to some of the most common aspects we perceive as problems. I had joked at work that I’d learn how to make the day go faster by the end, but this was the weakest part of the book. Some of it was due to the nature of my job and others felt like things that you could have picked up easily by paying attention to the previous chapters. Yet overall, it was a fascinating read and has made me want to read her other book, Emotional Rollercoaster.
They call her ape, nean, barely human or if they’re being polite, handicapped. In reality, Jarra simply has an immune system that can’t survive off-world. She is one in a thousand. When she was born she was shipped off to earth to be brought up among others of her kind. When she reaches 18, she makes the decision to pass as an exo, applying for a pre-history course run by the planet Asgard. The practical nature of pre-history means that she will never have to step off planet earth but will her classmates find out what she is before she’s had her chance to prove a point?
Earth Girl is a proper science fiction novel for the young adult market. Set in 2788, most humans now live on colonised planets, travelling between them via portals. After what has become known as the exodus, earth cities were abandoned and began to decay and collapse. Unfortunately, someone didn’t take care of their back-ups (good morality tale here) and vast amounts of data, including news and research was lost. Hence the need for the archaeological sites of the future and students like Jarra, moving dangerous rubble to unearth the secrets of the past. I loved that day to day items from now were suddenly seen as historically important items when they were uncovered. There is a lot of detail of their archaeological excavations and I do wonder if this might put some younger readers off. Jarra’s obsession with history gives a great vehicle to world build and provides back-story whilst keeping within the plot.
Of course, there is some sort of relationship stuff going on during this but it plays second fiddle to the story of the earth. The world very much has a non sex (or anything) before marriage agenda and this seems to be adhered to by the characters. Even on planets that have different intimacy laws, they still all seem to go through a twoing ceremony first. There’s a section where Jarra has some sort of post-traumatic stress episode that I wasn’t quite convinced by, especially as she turned into a rather giggly girl during it.
There was one sentence that threw me off a bit. It’s only mentioned in passing, but apparently they have proof that the universe was created by a deity. It seems really out of place in a science fiction novel where everything should explained by science and most of humanity are now living on different planets. If the book went a bit further to explain this miraculous proof, then fine, that’s partly what science fiction allows us to do, but no, it’s just left hanging. It’s especially odd coming from a British author as we’re pretty much on the side of evolution over here, even if you do believe in god. With that and the whole celibacy thing, I was expecting some religious dogma to be thrust at me at any moment… fortunately it never happened. Though now I’m left thinking what on earth could this proof be?
Earth Girl is a proper science fiction novel for the young adult market. Set in 2788, most humans now live on colonised planets, travelling between them via portals. After what has become known as the exodus, earth cities were abandoned and began to decay and collapse. Unfortunately, someone didn’t take care of their back-ups (good morality tale here) and vast amounts of data, including news and research was lost. Hence the need for the archaeological sites of the future and students like Jarra, moving dangerous rubble to unearth the secrets of the past. I loved that day to day items from now were suddenly seen as historically important items when they were uncovered. There is a lot of detail of their archaeological excavations and I do wonder if this might put some younger readers off. Jarra’s obsession with history gives a great vehicle to world build and provides back-story whilst keeping within the plot.
Of course, there is some sort of relationship stuff going on during this but it plays second fiddle to the story of the earth. The world very much has a non sex (or anything) before marriage agenda and this seems to be adhered to by the characters. Even on planets that have different intimacy laws, they still all seem to go through a twoing ceremony first. There’s a section where Jarra has some sort of post-traumatic stress episode that I wasn’t quite convinced by, especially as she turned into a rather giggly girl during it.
There was one sentence that threw me off a bit. It’s only mentioned in passing, but apparently they have proof that the universe was created by a deity. It seems really out of place in a science fiction novel where everything should explained by science and most of humanity are now living on different planets. If the book went a bit further to explain this miraculous proof, then fine, that’s partly what science fiction allows us to do, but no, it’s just left hanging. It’s especially odd coming from a British author as we’re pretty much on the side of evolution over here, even if you do believe in god. With that and the whole celibacy thing, I was expecting some religious dogma to be thrust at me at any moment… fortunately it never happened. Though now I’m left thinking what on earth could this proof be?
When they start dying, no one seems to care. The criminal set of Glasgow are being gunned down, one by one and many think the vigilante killer is doing what the police couldn’t or wouldn’t do themselves. Police photographer, Tony Winters has a fascination with seeing death through his camera and he begs his best friend, DI Addison to assign him as official photographer on the case. With his penchant for capturing the crowds and the police at work, is he purely a nuisance or could his photos hold the key to solving the crimes?
Tony is not your average crime protagonist and there will be times where you question his allegiance. He was driven to become a police photographer when he was dragged to an exhibition of Enrique Metinides’ work and he became entranced by the scenes of death and destruction. Metinides is a real person, a Mexican photojournalist who has captured the horrors of crime and disaster for tabloid papers, where such shocking images are more commonplace. Of course, in Snapshot Tony doesn’t exhibit his photos and mostly works within the confines of his job but there is a clear feeling that he gets a rush from it.
There was a lot going on in the opening chapters and a lot of characters to get to grips with so it took a while to really get into the story. The murders come one after another but because of the city’s apathy towards the victims, they all rolled into one for me. Once the plot becomes more personal in the second half, it turns into a bloody good read. I have the follow-up, Cold Grave, to read and I will be intrigued to see how it fares now I have become familiar with the characters.
I’m not sure Glasgow’s tourist board will be thanking Robertson though. He paints a bleak picture of a city riddled with violent crime, drugs and prostitution. Maybe now that the vigilante has killed them all off, it may become a better place to live in future instalments!
Tony is not your average crime protagonist and there will be times where you question his allegiance. He was driven to become a police photographer when he was dragged to an exhibition of Enrique Metinides’ work and he became entranced by the scenes of death and destruction. Metinides is a real person, a Mexican photojournalist who has captured the horrors of crime and disaster for tabloid papers, where such shocking images are more commonplace. Of course, in Snapshot Tony doesn’t exhibit his photos and mostly works within the confines of his job but there is a clear feeling that he gets a rush from it.
There was a lot going on in the opening chapters and a lot of characters to get to grips with so it took a while to really get into the story. The murders come one after another but because of the city’s apathy towards the victims, they all rolled into one for me. Once the plot becomes more personal in the second half, it turns into a bloody good read. I have the follow-up, Cold Grave, to read and I will be intrigued to see how it fares now I have become familiar with the characters.
I’m not sure Glasgow’s tourist board will be thanking Robertson though. He paints a bleak picture of a city riddled with violent crime, drugs and prostitution. Maybe now that the vigilante has killed them all off, it may become a better place to live in future instalments!
In Snuff, Young Sam Vines had moved on from Where’s My Cow? and his new favourite book was The World of Poo. Because Sir Terry Pratchett his awesome, once again he has brought Sam’s fictional book to life in a charming story all about poo!
I’m not sure the plot really matters. Geoffrey is staying with his Grandmother in Ankh-Morpork and he starts up a poo museum in the garden shed after he’s told that being pooed on by a bird is good luck. The story follows his adventures round the city as he collects different types of poo and even visits Sir Harry King, master of all things poo.
I can see this being a huge hit with small children even if parents might want to deter poo collecting as a hobby. Geoffrey is encouraged to wash his hands a lot so there is a positive message in there too. The line drawings by Peter Dennis are charming and add a little extra to the story; I especially liked the ones illustrating his trip to the zoo. And in true Pratchett style, there are plenty of footnotes to keep the adults entertained (though personally, I thought the whole thing was amusing).
There’s a lot of moaning on Amazon about the formatting on the Kindle edition. I can see how it might have been difficult with the illustrations and footnotes but there’s a bit of me that thinks this book deserves to by a physical thing. The hardback has a lovely feel to it and at the very least, it’s an interesting conversation point for visitors to your home.
I’m not sure the plot really matters. Geoffrey is staying with his Grandmother in Ankh-Morpork and he starts up a poo museum in the garden shed after he’s told that being pooed on by a bird is good luck. The story follows his adventures round the city as he collects different types of poo and even visits Sir Harry King, master of all things poo.
I can see this being a huge hit with small children even if parents might want to deter poo collecting as a hobby. Geoffrey is encouraged to wash his hands a lot so there is a positive message in there too. The line drawings by Peter Dennis are charming and add a little extra to the story; I especially liked the ones illustrating his trip to the zoo. And in true Pratchett style, there are plenty of footnotes to keep the adults entertained (though personally, I thought the whole thing was amusing).
There’s a lot of moaning on Amazon about the formatting on the Kindle edition. I can see how it might have been difficult with the illustrations and footnotes but there’s a bit of me that thinks this book deserves to by a physical thing. The hardback has a lovely feel to it and at the very least, it’s an interesting conversation point for visitors to your home.