Review: Pax Omega / Written by: Al Ewing / Illustrated by: Al Ewing / Published by: Abaddon Books / Release Date: April 17th

Pax Omega is part homage and part pastiche of the sort of comic books that we now describe as classics. It features strange alien gods, dinosaurs, men of steel, super spies who work for agencies with interesting acronyms, vile fiends and tragic heroes. I defy anyone who is familiar with the works of Josh Kirby to read this without imagining the scenes in Kirby’s distinctive art style.

Author Al Ewing writes in an easy going, pulpy style that suits this sort of tale down to the ground. I get the feeling that it was as much fun to write as to read, as the humour and action are joy-filled and entertaining. This isn’t going to win any prizes for literature, but it should win something for being such a pleasure to read.

It’s also filled to the brim with pop culture references and puns. The plot is very comic book in feel; alien beings arrive on Earth during the time of the tyrannosaurs, and with the intention of setting themselves up as gods, skew the world in such a way that it becomes a place filled with super-powered beings. The result is a series of short stories, each linking seamlessly into the other, revealing more and more about the world as the tale progresses.

Along the way, we get a tale about the dangers of Artificial Intelligence, the consequences of a post-human society and of course, two-fisted heroes punching Nazis, as well as steampunk monsters and lone gunmen. Intertwined is a weird tale of science-fiction and mad science, and this strangeness carries the story forward and adds a unique edge to it all.

Though a self-contained story in its own right, Pax Omega bookends Al Ewing’s sequence of books in the Pax Britannia series of steampunk style novels, and does so very well. Fans of the Marvel Classics graphic novels will like this, as will anyone who likes good, solid, four colour fun. It’s ideal holiday reading for the geek on the move, and well recommended.

Book Review: The Bloody Red Baron / Author: Kim Newman / Format: Paperback / Publisher: Titan Books / Release Date: April 27th

There is a scene in The Bloody Red Baron that sums up much of the appeal of Kim Newman’s Anno Dracula series of novels beautifully. It illustrates the impeccable research and vividly descriptive prose that Newman uses to bring the trenches of the First World War to life, while also making use of the genre fiction cameos that make reading each of these novels such a geeky delight.

The scene in question sees the hero, Edwin Winthrop, visiting an underground lair deep within the allied trenches during World War I. There he finds Dr Moreau, assisted by Herbert West, performing experiments on fatally wounded soldiers who just so happen to be vampires. The discussion shifts to the possibility that the Germans have succeeded in mixing different vampire bloodlines in order to enable shape shifting, and as Moreau dismisses the notion, West argues that Dr Langstrom of Gotham University is reported to have had some success in similar experiments.

Now if you felt a thrill of recognition at those names and if the idea of this sort of sci-fi/fantasy/horror mash up floats your boat then this novel is definitely for you. For this is a world in which vampire versions of Winston Churchill and Edgar Allen Poe exist alongside fictional creations such as Count Orlok of F W Murnau’s Nosferatu and Sgt Daniel Dravot from Rudyard Kipling’s The Man Who Would be King. However, even if those names mean little to you this remains a hugely rewarding read because, aside from the subtle name dropping and creative melding of both fictional and historical figures, Newman has delivered a story that is both thrillingly inventive and hugely entertaining, a ripping yarn that emulates countless tales of daring do. That he does this while throwing in a good deal of historical perspective, conveying and satirizing much of the political insanity of the time, while also successfully depicting the house of cards that was early 20th Century European alliances, is quite an achievement.

The Bloody Red Baron depicts a world where vampirism has spread throughout much of Europe and nations are embroiled in a hellish conflict in which both the warm and the undead fight and die alongside each other in the trenches of Europe. Dracula, deposed from the throne of England as Queen Victoria’s consort, is now an influential figure amongst the central powers, responsible for dictating much of the course of the German offensive. Set against this broad scope is the story of two flying aces; Edwin Winthrop of the Diogenes club and Manfred Von Richthofen, the Bloody Red Baron of the title.

Newman manages to make this very personal war between the two flyers the central thrilling thread of his novel while still having enormous fun depicting a wider world in which vampires live not so everyday lives alongside humans in a world going to ruin. He depicts action superbly, the dog fights providing some of the strongest moments in a novel that is filled to bursting with delights, while his own characters are more than a match for the fictions he borrows from other authors.

As in Anno Dracula he uses the Count sparingly, only depicting him briefly and rarely giving him dialogue. This is a novel about a world shaped by Dracula, not about the man himself, a decision that allows the character to retain his mythic stature while still positing an alternate fiction to Stoker’s world wherein Van Helsing was victorious.

In some respects vampires are more suited to the story told in Anno Dracula, the world of The Bloody Red Baron lacking that curious sense of romance found within the pages of Anno Dracula with its fog shrouded streets, Victorian serial killers and sense of romance that only time and fiction could bestow on an era of huge suffering and deprivation. However, Newman’s greatest achievement as a writer, both of horror and history, is that he is able to bring his fictional story and his characters to life so successfully that he can set them in the context of the bloodiest and most tragic waste of life the world has ever seen and still make them credible. A novel of such high concepts would be awfully easy to get wrong but Newman is good enough to weave a tale inspired by a heady mix of literature, B-movies and exploitation cinema without ever making it seem trashy.

In addition to the main novel this reprint also includes a short story that brings us up to date with Geneviève Dieudonné, the vampire heroine of Anno Dracula, and includes Newman’s annotations that provide some illuminating insights for those of us who don’t get every single reference (few will). 

In all, perhaps the novel’s greatest triumph is that it manages to be serious and fun at the same time, its treatment of a horrendous period in history both intelligent and mischievous. Newman’s prose is fluid, his dialogue a delight and his pacing ensures that the narrative doesn’t flag for a second. And any novel that manages to find a place for Hellraiser’s Pinhead alongside Biggles without sacrificing its integrity really does deserve all the plaudits it gets.

Review: Hell Train / Author: Christopher Fowler / Format: Paperback / Publisher: Solaris / Release Date: Out Now

Fans of Hammer will love Hell Train, Christopher Fowler’s homage to the glory days of the Britain’s greatest horror movie studio. Hell Train comes on as the ‘greatest supernatural chiller that Hammer never produced, a grand epic that plays like a cross between Dracula and Dr Terror’s House of Horrors’.

Shane Carter is a washed-up Hollywood scriptwriter who comes to England to sell his wares to Michael Carreras, chief executive of Hammer Films. It is 1966. Hammer have produced a string of phenomenally successful horror films, but the wind of change is beginning to blow as American distributors are starting to show concern that Hammer’s brand of Gothic is becoming old hat to the new generation of youngsters looking for more contemporary thrills.

To his surprise, Carter is commissioned to produce a script that will appeal to the new breed of film-goer, but he is given only five days in which to write it. The only stipulation that Carreras gives him is that the story must be set on a train…

From its opening chapter set in Bray Studios, Fowler evokes the era of Hammer beautifully. Carreras is presented as an avuncular figure, dedicated to the quality of Hammer’s output but concerned with the threat from young upstarts Amicus and Tigon. Carter’s process of writing the screenplay and his presentations to director Freddie Francis and actors Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee forms an intriguing fictionalised documentary wrap-around story which intersperses with the story of the script itself – set aboard the Arkangel, the titular Hell Train, carrying the souls of the undead as it hurtles through war-torn 1916 Eastern Europe towards its final destination – Hell.

On board is rakish British army deserter, Nicholas, who, along with Isabella, an innkeeper’s daughter with whom he is planning to elope, is fleeing the wrath of villagers and Isabella’s jilted fiancé. Two more English tourists, the Reverend Thomas Wellesley and his discontented wife, Miranda, are forced to board the strange train to escape the approaching Russian army. Watched over by the mysterious Conductor, the four passengers are each obliged to enter into a wager with the Devil in a bid to save themselves, or face the rest of eternity riding the Hell Train.

From this premise Fowler creates a phantasmagoria of surprisingly gory set-pieces as the four passengers battle the bizarre emissaries of Hell, which take the form of a veiled Red Countess, a giant flesh-eating insect, a blood crazed army brigadier and the reanimated corpse of a Carpathian monarch, known as the Biter.

The Arkangel is an intriguing character in itself, and as Fowler reveals its satanic origins, Hell Train starts to take on allegorical meanings, referencing the mass slaughter of the First World War, the Holocaust and the genocide of Bosnia. Fowler doesn’t overload Hell Train with this, but the idea of waging with the devil is there in the background throughout. Plot wise, Hell Train resembles Euro-production Horror Express (1972) and the Amicus-produced Dr Terror’s House of Horrors (1965) more than any Hammer film. But that is all part of the in-joke: as Carter finds his ill-fated script in ‘development hell’, increasingly falling victim to the rivalry between Hammer and the other studios, he begins to realise that he, too, is waging with the devil.

All aboard!

Review: The Cross / Author: Scott G. Mariani / Format: Paperback / Publisher: Avon Books / Release Date: Out now

The Cross is the second in Mariani’s Vampire Federation novels, coming after 2010’s Uprising. Part action adventure, part history-conspiracy thriller, part vampire horror, Uprising established a world where vampires governed themselves and ensured their anonymity amongst humans through the Vampire Federation (VF) – a Spooks-like M15-type agency committed to finding and destroying rogue vampires, with the beautiful but deadly Alex Bishop as its no.1 agent.

When a ‘traditionalist’ vampire uprising, led by the Byron-esque, Gabriel Stone, threatened to wipe out the VF, Bishop joined forces with ex-CID officer-turned vampire hunter Joel Solomon, to track down the ancient Cross of Ardaich, before Stone could use its deadly force against his vampire enemies. Uprising ended with Stone temporarily defeated, the Cross lost, and Alex Bishop forced to take desperate measures in order to save the mortally wounded Solomon.

The Cross takes up its story immediately from where Uprising left off, with the resurrected Stone enlisting psychotic killer-wannabe vampire, Ash, to retrieve the cross, and Jason Solomon once again forced into an uneasy alliance with Alex Bishop, this time to save humanity from the Ubervampyr, a sadistic and primeval race of the undead, for whom Gabriel Stone is merely doing their bidding.

Like Uprising, The Cross is high octane action-packed adventure all the way. Mariani is perhaps better known for his series of Ben Hope history-conspiracy thrillers (The Lost Relic, The Doomsday Prophecy) and he knows how to write gripping suspense and action. The Cross features these aplenty, especially in the final showdown which takes place in the Swiss mountains – as exciting a climax to a novel as you could hope to read.

Gabriel Stone is less of a villain than he was in Uprising (the real bad guys are the genocidal Ubervampyr), but the shifting sympathies between Stone, Bishop and Jason Solomon make for some intriguing developments and engaging subplots. Teenage vampire hunter Dec Maddon returns, along with new girl, Chloe, who set out together to avenge the murder of their loved ones by Stone.

A minor quibble would be that The Cross takes a little long to bring all of these characters and subplots together, but it is only a small fault as Mariani keeps you turning the pages regardless. The Cross suffers a bit as the middle novel in the series, maybe because it does spend a lot of time re-gathering after the events of Uprising and setting up things to come later in the series. By the end, though, Mariani leaves you once again wanting more, and the scene is set for the ultimate showdown with the Ubervampyr.

I, for one, am looking forward to the third Vampire Federation novel from Scott G. Mariani.

Review: Touch of Power / Author: Maria V Snyder / Format: Paperback / Publisher: Mira / Release Date: Out Now

Strong female voices are always welcome in genre fiction, especially fantasy novels which seem to be filled with magical men with their mighty swords slaying anything that happens to be in the way.

Touch of Power follows the story of Avry, a young woman with mystical healing powers. She should have it made; after all, magical medicine is the sort of thing everyone wants. Unluckily for Avry, the world she lives in has just recovered from a devastating plague, and everyone blames the healers for its cause. Worst still, there’s a bounty on healers, and they’re wanted dead, not alive.

Snyder creates a rich world for this simple fantasy drama to develop. We are left guessing throughout as to whom the real heroes and villains might be, and what the secrets of the world really are. The magic is logical and consistent, with just enough of a touch of mystery to keep the story moving forward. This is a heavily character driven tale where the main character is interesting and sympathetic, though the story does suffer from the lead being perhaps a little bit too nice at times.

Touch of Power also suffers from having a world that is a little bit more interesting than the lead characters; though we are meant to care about Avry and the people she meets on the way, the real star of the novel is the plague ravaged world they live in, and the strange and wonderful horrors that surround them. Though it’s hardly a fantasy version of Mad Max, the consequences of a society heavily dependent on magical healing suddenly losing its main source of medicine is a compelling and extremely readable one.

In addition, Snyder’s writing style is gentle and compelling, not only does she keep the reader guessing, she also lulls you into a false sense of security. Touch of Power is the first in a new series of books and it’s going to be very interesting to see where the author goes from here.

Review: Malory’s Knights of Albion – Dark North / Author: Paul Finch / Format: Paperback / Publisher: Abaddon Books / Release Date: Out Now

King Arthur and his knights have been done time and time again, and the Malory’s Knights of Albion series is Abaddon Books’ way of flogging this particular warhorse. Luckily, the steed in question seems to be pretty hardy, and so far, the novels produced under this banner have been a nice mix of the familiar and the strange.

Paul Finch’s Dark North continues the theme; the tale revolves around Sir Lucan, a stereotypical Northern knight who’s filled with anger, angst and a blunt approach to the world. When his wife runs off with the Captain of a band of invading foreigners, the big scary northern man goes on a rampage, facing legions of soldiers, seductive witches and the forces of hell itself.

This is an action packed fantasy adventure; expect plenty of violence, odd monsters and bags and bags of conflict. It is neither charming nor cleverly paced, but those who like tales of big men in armour hitting monsters very hard will find it difficult to put down. Like its lead character, Dark North is a blunt tool, but sometimes, that’s exactly what you want from a book.

One of the drawbacks of the series is the constant ‘historic’ footnotes; these fail to add any authenticity to the tale, insult the intelligence of the reader and are at best pointless, and at worst, confusing and mood shattering. The conceit that these tales are ‘genuine tales of Arthurian adventure’ is a nice one, but not one that the reader needs to be constantly reminded of.

Despite this, the novel never fails to entertain. This is not a subtle book, nor is it remarkable, but it is an entirely enjoyable waste of time that will give fans of dark horror and medieval knights plenty of entertainment, and certainly one you should consider for some summer reading if Excalibur and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade are on your list of top movies.

Review: Jag in Space – A Just Determination / Author: Jack Campbell / Format: Paperback / Publisher: Titan Books

Jag in Space: A Just Determination by Jack Campbell introduces Paul Sinclair, a nervous, likeable, newly recruited legal officer aboard the U.S.S Michaelson, a warship which handles the United States’ interests in space. We follow Sinclair’s induction into the navy, and before he can find his feet in his legal role, the captain of the U.S.S Michaelson is accused of destroying a civilian research vessel. Sinclair must now testify at the hearing of his captain and decide whose side to fight for.

A Just Determination has its enjoyable moments with some excellent descriptions that create atmosphere and add dynamic between the characters to compliment the overall story. The strongest example of excellent description comes as Sinclair enters the U.S.S Michaelson and he realises the claustrophobic atmosphere; referring to the corridors’ ability to handle only two people walking side by side stirs up feelings of the claustrophobia in the film Alien and helps deepen the whodunit mystery later in the novel. I also enjoyed the sailor mentality created within the atmosphere on board the U.S.S Michaelson; Jack Campbell, a retired US naval officer, transfers vivid detail of a life at sea and its curses, that same sense of isolation, workmanship and that ironically desperate need for a drink, to life in space wonderfully.

Where Campbell is also successful, is establishing Sinclair’s relationship with the people around him; this helps with the change in the dynamic within the final third of the book. Jan Tweed, the Lieutenant who works alongside Sinclair, is given this workshy attitude deliberately and (as you would expect) you think, “oooo! she could be wrong’un!” which makes their relationship nice in many respects because you want to like the character just as much.

However, where there are vivid descriptions and wonderful dynamics created between characters, Campbell gets it very wrong in some of these areas. Some of the characters are extremely clichéd (and not in a good way!). For example when Sinclair meets the character Herdez, his senior female officer, for the first time, from the given description you immediately think that this character was written with Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley from Alien in mind, however, in contrast to Ripley, I found it difficult to empathise with her as I couldn’t see her as a unique character, only one that has borrowed from other pop culture. The same can be said for Garcia, who is Sinclair’s other superior, who again I couldn’t empathise with or have an opinion of, other than to compare him with Jack Nicholson’s character in A Few Good Man; you can almost hear him, as he gives Sinclair a dressing down saying “you can’t handle the truth!”. This is an example of poor writing as it seems (whether intentional or not) that the writer has expected the reader to make direct comparisons with other characters in other media in order to carry the story forward. This attitude extends to the detail that is disappointingly missing in later chapters after such a brilliant start of creating an intense atmosphere; there is little other detail about the U.S.S Michaelson and it’s as if we’re just to fill in the blanks using our own knowledge of what a space ship should look like from other science ficiton.

Overall, Jag in Space: A Just Determination has so much potential as a novel, I’ve never heard of military legal sci-fi and Campbell has shown it can work if the right atmosphere and character dynamic is created. However, I felt incredibly short-changed as a lot of the book relied on me as a reader to incorporate what a space-ship looks like or how a particular character acts from other sci-fi, instead of creating his own universe and characters.

Review: A Game of Groans / Author: George R.R Washighton / Format: Paperback / Publisher: Virgin Books / Release Date: Out Now

A Game Of Groans is a self-proclaimed parody of the Game of Thrones phenomenon that has forced itself into the entertainment zeitgeist. The problem with parody is that if it is even slightly off target, it fails miserably. Unfortunately for A Game Of Groans, that is what has happened.

An idea that would only just work as a one joke idea down the pub with your friends who are clued up on the subject matter that you are trying to lampoon, here we have a book that drags itself over two hundred pages. If ever there has been an example of a joke that has run on for too long, then this is it. The fact that it even makes it over that landmark page count is down to repetition. Characters and their dialogue as well as scenes are repeated over and over in an almost ‘nudge-nudge, wink-wink you get the gag don’t you?’ way to the reader until you are physically exhausted and longing for something with more meat to it.

Taking the Scary Movie series and the multiple offshoots of that template as an example, imagine a watered down and desperately dull and unfunny literary version based around sword and sorcery and then throw in characters from other genres and well known titles – including boy wizards and asthmatic villains who wear helmets – and mash them up, hoping that the result is edible. Well, it’s not. There is very little actual comedy to laugh at here and the only thing that you may take away from this title is the very basic Spanish lesson that you are given every time the Spanish character says something in his native tongue.

If you do pick this up, be warned that you will find yourself sighing and wishing for something more interesting to read. Even Twilight has got to be better than this! Avoid – you have been warned.

Review: Where There’s Smoke… / Author: William B. Davis / Format: Paperback / Publisher: ECW PRESS / Release Date: Out Now

Nineteen years ago, a TV series began that captured my heart and mind like no other at the time. That show was The X-Files, and I was hooked from the very beginning. I bought mugs, t-shirts, sculpted statues, the near-obligatory videos (four episodes per tape), even the soundtrack album. I joined a fan club (like DVD, the internet wasn’t around), where I received a newsletter by post. Those were the days. 

It’s ten years since The X-Files finished on TV, presenting high quality drama with fascinating conspiracy theories. Sometimes ludicrous, often brilliant, it tapped into the cultural zeitgeist; characters appeared on The Simpsons, catchphrases such as ‘the truth is out there’ became common parlance. Has it stood up to the test of time? I don’t know, I’ve never re-watched it, but the fact US TV networks still search for ‘the next X-Files’ is testament to its popularity.

Fans will recall a notorious villain, The Cigarette Smoking Man. Originally an extra, played by William B. Davis, this man became a key part of the overall arc of the show, part of its mythology from day one. When Davis’s autobiography Where There’s Smoke… landed on my doormat, I was looking forward to rekindling old flames as I recalled my favourite episodes from the show, while getting some juicy insider gossip on what went on behind the scenes.

Not to be: Davis is a man who has lived for over seventy years, of which The X-Files was a mere decade. It shows in this autobiography, with the series only starting to feature in the final quarter of the book. Even then, he offers little insight to the show that any casual fan wouldn’t already know – the apparent aloofness of the two leads, the baffling outcomes to certain aspects of the plot, the shoestring budget and nervousness around the making of the first series. Yes, The X-Files may have made Davis a near household name in the 1990’s, but this is a book about the man, rather than the show that brought him fame.

That may be unfair. Davis is well-known in his native Canada, acting since he was a child and now running his own acting school. He’s been about the block, travelling to London and Dundee on the way, and for me this is where the book is at its most interesting. He’s enjoyed his time and it shows; not only the plays in which he performed or directed, but the women he became involved with on various levels. It’s not so much kiss and tell, merely an observation of who he’s met and where he’s been over the course of his life.

In other aspects, Davis has a matter-of-fact approach to his description; I feel this is where the book suffers. The style is fine, but when he says he wonders why his childhood years would interest anyone else, he does little to colour them. Similarly, when he mentions names, there’s an expectation that we’ll know exactly who he’s talking about. Granted, there are several I’ve heard of, especially those in England, but others remain unknown; even with his comment ‘yes, that so-and-so’, some remain a mystery. Is the Carolyn Jones he mentions the same who played Morticia Addams? We can only assume.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad book. Davis’s life has been interesting, but I’d certainly have found the book more engaging if I was Canadian. It’s assumed that the reader will have a familiarity with names and places, one that struck me as odd considering The X-Files was a hit across the globe.

Yet, there’s a warmth deep within. Not so much a yearning for the past, but a fondness in recalling it; no regrets, but a wondering how life could have been if different choices were made. In this, the book is a success. If, like me, you picked up this book purely as an X-phile, you may be disappointed. However, if you’re reading as the memoirs of an actor whose career spans radio and TV across the latter half of the twentieth century, it’s worth a go.

Review: La Squab / Author: David Britton / Art: Kris Guidio / Format: Hardback / Publisher: Savoy Books / Release Date: April 16th

The blurb for La Squab reads thus. La Squab by David Britton represents a departure from the author’s reputation as the creator of Lord Horror, the last novel to be banned in Britain. Masquerading as a book for children, the primary inspirations of La Squab are The Wind in the Willows—if Grahame’s classic had been re-written by Adolf Hitler!

I have to admit, I was intrigued. The book sounded different, subversive with a fair chance of some dark humour, so I jumped at the chance to review it.

When the book arrived, I was delighted. Instead of a standard paperback, the book was an illustrated hardcover, with marvellously detailed pen and ink drawings on every other page, and included an audio CD that had Fenella Fielding (from Carry on Screaming, among other things) reading sections of the book. The whole thing was beautifully crafted and looked very impressive.

Then I started to read it.

I got to the end of the first chapter, sat back and tried to process what I’d just read. The book was bad. Worse than bad, it was appalling. Not in a “goodness me, that’s controversial” way, or even “oooh, that’s taking things too far” way.  I mean bad in the “What on earth is this pile of garbage I’m reading, and what the hell just happened in that first chapter?” way.

I started to doubt myself. Maybe I wasn’t getting it. I put the book down and read The Wind in the Willow to see if the author was trying to make some sort of stylistic statement. He wasn’t.

I re-read the first chapter, while listening to the wonderfully produced audio recording to see if it made any kind of sense hearing it out loud. It didn’t, and in fact, the audio recording veered away from the text in the book around 30 minutes in, giving the impression that several pages of the novel had been deleted in some terrible editing error.

Frustrated, I started the book again and ploughed through it through sheer force of will, in the hope that something approaching a plot might develop or that I might be able to understand what on earth the author was going on about. Eventually I got to the end, and came to the following conclusion.

La Squab may very well be the worst book I have ever read in my life. And I’ve read Relentless by Dean Koontz.

There is nothing approaching a plot, and very little that even seems to connect the chapters. One minute Lord Horror and Squab are floating down the Thames, arguing with a carnivorous waterwheel over it having eaten some mermaids, the next they are in New Orleans, slitting the throats of Creole waiters for daring to have hopes and dreams.

The writing is of the standard you would expect if a hyperactive and deranged eight year old tried to write a novel using only a thesaurus and magic mushrooms for guidance. The point of view switches between characters, often in the middle of the same paragraph, usually going from third person to first person at the same time. New characters start talking without introduction or any previous mention, so it’s a struggle to know who is speaking. Straightforward sentences are obscured with the most awful, pretentious, flowery language and the characters often go off on long narrative speeches that serve no purpose whatsoever.

The book even fails to be controversial. There are smatterings of casual racism, pro-Nazi sentiment, gross imagery and deviant sexual acts, but to be honest, most of it is drowning in so much overwritten nonsense that you have too much of a hard time working out what was just said, or what was going on to take offence.

In essence, my emotional response to this book started off at excited, then went through confused, into bored and ended up at annoyed that I’d wasted four hours of my life on it.

Is it all bad? Well, the illustrations are nice, and a couple of the little poems and songs raised a little smile. And after a while, you realise that all of those lovely pictures are little more than padding, to make a 150 page book look like a 300 page book. This is a good thing, because I only had to wade through 150 pages of this rubbish.

Oh yes. I forgot to mention the price. This book will set you back the not inconsiderable sum of £25.

Don’t all rush at once.