I'm always highly skeptical about these endeavors wherein a writer attempts to take over another's characters and play in his/her sandbox.

Full disclosure: I have, though, been reading the new "Lord Peter Wimsey" mysteries by Jill Paton Walsh. No, they are not Dorothy L. Sayers, because Walsh is too busy being respectful of Sayers' legacy to really do the swashbuckling, experimental kind of writing that Sayers felt free to perform with her own characters.

But Walsh knows the Wimseys in and out, and she's clearly read the short story "Talboys" often enough to have a clear idea how Wimsey's/Vane's home lives would evolve. And her Lord Peter/Harriet Vane books are fun.

Walsh is the glaring exception that proves the rule.

I have to go now: I'm working on a suspense novel about a serial killer whose victims all worked for Disney: in fact, they all (oddly enough) were involved in publishing "Winnie the Pooh" books that turned A.A. Milne's style and wit into mindless, unreadable, ponderous, preachy, children's-lit excrement. With the name "A.A. Milne" on the fucking cover of 'em. As "editor."

Treat the dead with respect; they cannot defend themselves.

Via Lair, who remarks:

Considering that every product of the Guide Milieu since the original radio series was incrementally worse, this one's going to be a rock-bottom ultrastinker.

And, like a sucker, I'll probably buy it.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:47 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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