Before I begin ragging on this book, I should note that although I cannot call it good, it's pretty entertaining. I would not hesitate to recommend it for salon reading, as long as you can either call up your inner twelve-year-old at will or else enjoy a good inner snark-fest
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(Even with all its many, many flaws, there is something about this trilogy and her first trilogy that pull me along to the end. Her other books are more of a slogging contest, if I can finish them at all. I think she stopped being edited somewhere along the way.)
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re: Dixon. That's interesting. Certainly explains the shift from crack-tainment to whatever.
However, I will say my best non-ill Lackey experience in recent years was reading one of her one-offs with a group of friends... out loud... selecting sections at random... in bad accents... or in foreign languages if the reader could translate on the fly. Any words we couldn't translate were pineapple.
I'm not quite sure what was going on in the plot, but what's really important was that Show Tunes Lackey was quite jocular, French Lackey was either about true love or dinner, and I think Swedish Chef Lackey was making a pineapple salad.
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Evil. Definitely evil.
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But totally spot on about twelve year olds. I have these on my shelves for school, and they hit those girl readers right in the chitlins. (So far, the boys--even the ones who like fantasy--can't stand them as they all to a reader hate Vanyel)
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It was the same visit where I was playing with some (admittedly awesome) Sesame Street colorforms.
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> Agony! Much more painful than yours!
Boy knows his Broadway catalogue. He will go far.
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