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{{newreview
|title=You, Me and Thing: The Great Expanding Guinea Pig and Beware of the Snowblobs!
|author=Karen McCombie
|rating=4
|genre=Confident Readers
|summary='You' is Jackson, a very dim-seeming boy next door. 'Me' is Ruby, our much more intelligent, thoughtful and active narrator. Thing is – well, the thing is, Thing is a mystery – a weird sort of winged mogwai-type critter, that only 'you' and 'me' know about. All three have a den at the bottom of the humans' respective gardens, close to the built-upon former home of Thing. Oh, and Thing is also capable of some very silly, quite inappropriate and very inappropriately timed magic, so a lot of time Jackson, and especially Ruby, have to worry about keeping their secret friend a secret. As you can see by the two full adventures in this book.
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>0571310559</amazonuk>
}}
{{newreview
|title=The Trip to Echo Spring: Why Writers Drink
|summary=Tiny knew that he was a giant. In fact you couldn't help thinking that he was a little bit cross about the fact that he had to keep telling people. He'd shake his fists and roar '''I AM A GIANT'''. Proof was important, of course and the first step was to measure his shadow, which he did when the sun was low - but it wasn't just one step. It was many and his shadow still ran on ahead of him. Off he went to tell the world, but the mountains were, well, dismissive and the tall trees whispered about it amongst themselves before they rejected what he had to say. The wind didn't agree either - and went on and on about it until Tiny ran away to the sea.
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>B00H3PYDC6</amazonuk>
}}
{{newreview
|title=Sherlock: His Last Bow
|author=Arthur Conan Doyle
|rating=4
|genre=Crime (Historical)
|summary=''The End''. I got told off for writing those two simple words at the end of a short story I wrote at school, aged about eleven. If it is the end, I think the teacher was saying, it should be obvious. If it isn't, there's still no way the words are necessary. But at least I'm not alone. Conan Doyle, the south coast Doctor turned entertainer extraordinaire with all his output, was told off for the way he finished things. Holmes dead? Sorry, not allowed, Mr Doyle. Holmes retired to keep bees near Eastbourne? Beyond the pale, Sir – bring him back. You don't like the labour of proving your genius invention to be such a genius? Tough. And so we come to 'His Last Bow', which Watson tells us is the final, final, ending story with which to conclude, and a few others. He wasn't exactly correct about it being the last ones, though.
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>1849907617</amazonuk>
}}