Pratchett plays with words the way a bird plays with the air, it is a pleasure to watch. And all the while he is spinning ideas as effortlessly as soaring. This is the 30th, or so, Discworld novel, and rather than getting tired, he just keeps getting better. The only bad thing I can say about Pratchett is that he spoils you for reading anything else. Listen at your peril.
Burrough's Mars novels may be my favorite escapist literature of all time. I was not prepared for a reading where the reader adopts a broad southern accent, I guess because John Carter is from Virginia. I would have much preferred a simple straightforward reading. The affected accent is very annoying and detracts from the enjoyment of the story.
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