I can never get enough of Pratchett's way with words, especially his descriptions:

He looked the kind of person who, when they blink, you mark it off on the calendar.

This was a really fun novel, with some great characters: Rincewind, of course, but also Conina and Nijel, a repeat appearance by Death, and some very inept Horsepersons of the Apocalypse (or Apocralypse, as they call it). Oh, and the Luggage.

I know the next Discworld club read has started, but I'm going to save Wyrd Sisters for the Halloween Bingo, since it works perfectly for one of my squares.

"This book does not contain a map. Please feel free to draw your own."

It's been a hectic few weeks, and I was in a bit of a reading slump (I have a few books on the go, but was finding myself unmotivated on any of them). So it feels good to be back with Pratchett! This should get the reading motor going again.

"There should be a word for that brief period just after waking when the mind is full of warm pink nothing. You lie there entirely empty of thought, except for a growing suspicion that heading towards you, like a sockful of damp sand in a nocturnal alleyway, are all the recollections you’d really rather do without."

Pratchett is always such a delight, and has some of the best descriptions for random everyday sensations I've ever read (see above). Mort's story is a coming-of-age tale, set within an unusual apprenticeship for which he soon realizes he might not be an ideal candidate. His clash against the idea of inevitability sets off a chain of events that make for a great adventure as he tries to set things straight again. In the meantime, Death is taking a vacation and perhaps becoming too close to humanity. In the end, order is restored, though in an unorthodox manner, and history can continue on its course.

I'm still reading this one for Discworld Book Club, and very much enjoying it! I'm hoping to finish within the next week, so I can get started on our May reads.

I'm really enjoying this so far! Even though I'm juggling a few books at once (as usual), every time I come back to this one it feels like a comfort read. I love the way Pratchett thinks, and the way he sees the world and its inhabitants:

"He was tall, red-haired and freckled, with the sort of body that seems to be only marginally under its owner's control; it appeared to have been built out of knees."