Barry Jonsberg is my third favourite author, beaten only by Eoin Colfer (a genius and Artemis Fowl’s biographer) and Elizabeth Honey (who wrote 45 and 47 Stella Street and Everything that Happened, the greatest book of all time).
Oh, also hi folks. Happy 2k17. Hope you didn’t miss us too much during our short hiatus. Anyway…
So we’ve started a book club because SPONTANEITY! The first book we’re reading is Game Theory by Barry Jonsberg, because we happened to have it lying around. Also because Barry Jonsberg is consistently great.
Quick note: So you know how in fancy boring texts about fancy boring things, people will say stuff like, and presently, Jonsberg crafted another stanza wherein fancy boring things were discussed and much tea was consumed.
This is not a fancy boring text. Referring to people by their last name is a weird thing that happens in Oliver Twist. (Author’s Note: I don’t think I’ve read Oliver Twist, so don’t quote me on that.)
So heya Barry. What’s up?
Anyway, there are (to my hole filled knowledge and sweeping generalisations) two types of Barry books (this feels weird and informal but I’m sticking with it because I am both weird and informal). There are things like My Life as an Alphabet and It’s Not All About You, Calma! (which is the third greatest book of all time), and that stuff is funny. Like it’s deep and complicated and makes you think about stuff in ways that make English teacher’s happy because INFERENCES, but it is also funny. Like I’ve randomly burst in hysterical laughter during silent reading multiple times which is slightly embarrassing but mostly worth it.
And then, plot twist.
There’s the incredibly dark is this even the same author stuff like Dreamrider, which is not only mind boggling, but also fantastic. But it’s not really funny. It’s kind of slightly terrifying. In a good way?
The point of that whole too-long spiel is that I think, based on the cover and blurb, this book is one of the not-super-funny-mostly-super-terrifying ones, which I’m totally down for.
The description reminds me a bit of Finders Keepers by Emily Rodda, but I haven’t read that book for like eight years so for all I know it could be more like Finders Keepers by Stephen King. I guess we’ll find out…
Tune in next time for Mum’s expectations and whatnot.
Huh. Whatnot is a word. No squiggly red lines. The more you know.
P.S Alternatively, it could just be a book about GT.