I'm trawling through the new publishers' catalogues once more.
I don’t know about you, but when I read that a novel ‘plumbs the depths of human depravity’, it just makes me feel a bit like laying my head down on a cool surface and going ‘o, please, not again’.
Are people really approaching booksellers going “The one you recommended last week was pretty depraved, but have you got anything, you know, depraved-er? I just wish there was something out there that really plumbed the depths, you know?”
And at the other end of the spectrum, comes “The Most Dinosaur Fun…Ever!!”
There’s clearly a scale in effect here. How much dinosaur fun is the most dinosaur fun?
It's got to be quite a considerable amount of fun. But it’s a qualified ‘most’ – that is, it might be the most dinosaur fun, but what if amphibian fun, or invertebrate fun, is funner than dinosaur fun? Maybe, once you've experienced invertebrate fun, there's just no going back to dinosaur fun. By limiting yourself to dinosaur fun, you might be missing out.