There are enough clues to point to the murderer, but little agency available to bring him to justice, legal or otherwise. Instead, there’s just a big scary floating wizard head in a house full of Egyptian artifacts. Or Bhutanese. Not that it matters.

This hate machine does not even care about being pretty.

Like most people, I have queued to get Neil Gaiman’s autograph. I have also followed his advice to writers for the first time, which naturally entitles me to dispense advice of my own.

Sincerely, these scenarios are some of the best stories told in this universe since 1986, but they can be a Queen-sized bitch to GM.

Enter the blogosphere here… did anyone ever really call it that?