I read the novel Wicked. I will not mention the author, since (1) I have forgotten the name, and (2) this is not an amiable review, so we shall allow him to be outside this headmaster's office where all the nastiness will occur.
Briefly, I read the first Chap ("chapter", that is) and found it close to enchanting. The second chap thrust me away by a dimension of at least the proverbial "ten foot pole", and the third chap left me adrift and threw stones at me.
I did not get to know chap four; gave it a red card.
I found the book to be very, very much like Terry Pratchett... without the whimsy and sense of gentle satire abounding; to be precise, the Oz of Wicked was Pratchett's Discworld... without the humour.
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