There are books that you devour. And there are books that devour you. The Liar’s Key is more than the latter, as it is a book which also lies. It keeps telling you that it is a book which you are reading. While in fact it is a Tome (the distinction is perhaps only in my head, and has nothing to do with the thickness of said book). It keeps telling you, “Bruv, the next page is just as good as this one.” But that is a lie. The next page is better. Always better.
But that’s not even the most heinous lie which this book tells you. The most atrocious one falls less into the category of a Lie and more into the category of Deceit. For it deceives you that it is bastardly thick. Many pages. Many words. All that. Just look at it. Pick it up. Feeeeel it. While in fact this book is too damn short! Screw you, Mark Lawrence.
And yet, somehow, there is no other book which has quite the sameeffect. Many do have it, naturally, but not in this manner and this kind of “flavour”.
Tastes a bit like Jorgian murder. Mmmmm.