I was in the right book at the wrong time.

This is a procrastination post, because I don't, or didn't want to write it. Well, of course, you might say, who wants to write when they could be eating a banana nut muffin?

This is a different kind of not wanting to write. You see, I'm writing about a good book. A book that made me laugh. A book by one of my favorite authors.

So what's the problem? The problem is that the book isn't the book I wanted to read. I'll explain the specifics.

My story begins a couple of weeks ago when I went to visit a friend, who lives 4 1/2 hours east of here. We had a couple of days together, so, naturally, we went to visit a bookstore. And because J., my friend was a completely gracious hostess, I bought her one of my favorite books, Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. I love Neverwhere, and happily, so did she.

The problem was that I wanted to read Neverwhere again for the first time. Reading it was wonderful, an entrance into a kingdom where I hoped the story would never end. And I entered fully into that richly detailed and peopled world that Gaiman created, and it was good. I was so enthralled by the world he created that I've read it 3 times.

So I bought the book for J., and then, seeking my reading Paradise like unto Neverwhere, I bought another Gaiman book, Anansi Boys. As I observed above, this book is funny and good. The Booklist blurb says,
"A romantic screwball comedy seasoned with murder, magic and ghosts....[Gaiman's] the folksy, witty, foolishly wise narrator to perfection, drawing us into a web he weaves as skillfully as any ....spider."

This is all true. And I give that writer an A+ from adjective class. Yet the book wasn't an intricate Neverwhere other-world. It had its own unique gripping power. My only gripe was the ending. Way too much John Grisham in the ending. I laughed when I read Anansi Boys, I was in suspense as to how the plot would turn out, I liked the characters, (except the loathsome ones), and so, I should quit whinging.

Because the problem was me. I entered a good book with the wrong set of expectations, and I couldn't put those expectations aside to enjoy the book for what it is. And now I wish I could roll back time and read Anansi Boys with a spotless mind. Sigh.

So I hope someone reads it, cherishing Anansi Boys for what it is, and not being disappointed for what it isn't.
By the way, if you do know of any books that parallel the Neverwhere experience, please post their titles. I'm hungry for another world.