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A drum roll, please, to announce the release of Terry Pratchett's new Discworld novel (the twenty-sixth, I believe, though I ran out of fingers and toes some time ago), The Thief of Time. Terry Pratchett wrote his first short story, The Hades Busines, when he was thirteen and saw it published commercially when he was fifteen. Not surprising, then, that he became a journalist since if one wishes to spend one's time writing it is just as well to earn a crust thereby. Notwithstanding the exigencies of wordsmithing to earn a living, Pratchett still found time to write for pleasure and The Carpet People, which he originally wrote when a teenager, was eventually published in 1971 although later revised and re-published. In 1982 the first Discworld novel, The Colour of Magic, was published and despite the poor marketing, garnered an interested following. It was succeeded by The Light Fantastic, the sequel that also featured Rincewind the incompetent wizard, Twoflower, the very first Discworld tourist, and the inimitable Luggage. It was not until 1987 that the author decided to forgo the munificent rewards of being a press (or was it possibly a suppression of publicity?) officer to concentrate on writing full time and since he has been acknowledged as Britain's top selling author despite being confined to a genre, it is just as well for the world of readers. The Thief of Time is about Time in various forms. The Monks of History manage Time, transferring it from where it not being used to where it is necessary, or even slicing time in order, for example, to make one second into a full personal day, and their work is threatened when it becomes obvious that someone is building a Truly Accurate Clock, the crystal clock. This is being done at the behest of the Auditors, non-physical entities who like the world to be orderly, and how can that be achieved when Time is allowed to run rampant through all those ungovernable humans? One Auditor, Lady LeJean, has wrapped herself in a body to commission the building of the clock and to oversee its progress. Miss Susan, a schoolteacher who just happens to be the granddaughter of Death (well, Discworld genetics are not like Earthian genetics) is enlisted by her illustrious forebear to prevent the completion of the clock being built by foundling Jeremy Clockson while Death himself tries to enthuse the other three Horsemen of the Apocalypse to Ride Out. Oh yes, and the Fifth Horseman decides to take a hand in it, too. Nanny Ogg alone of the Discworld witches features in this adventure, in her capacity as Discworld's most talented and capable midwife. The author expounds his own view of the problems of reincarnation (the Abbott of the History Monks has not even reached toddlerhood in his current incarnation). Lu Tze, the most accomplished of the monks, who is simply a sweeper, takes on an apprentice, Lobsang Ludd, the former foundling thief who has a strange affinity with and knowledge of Time. One could draw the conclusion from reading this book that Mr. Pratchett is a closet and unwilling chocaholic. One could also draw the conclusion that he is a most gifted writer. If any reader stumbles on The Thief of Time in a first encounter with Mr. Pratchett's work, he should treat himself to a few weeks utter bliss by rounding up the earlier works as well and reading them from start to finish. I do wish Time could be telescoped so I could read the next Discworld novel now not later! Editoržs Note. This is a review of the Australian Edition. 
Published by Doubleday, May 4, 2001 $Au45.00
Reviewed by Denise Wels, May 2001
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