I have a love-hate relationship with Neil Gaiman’s work. I loved both of his episodes of Doctor Who, but his books are more hit or miss.

American Gods, for example, is a novel I failed to get into. Something about it was just too uncomfortable for me to read. Stardust and Neverwhere, on the other hand, both entranced me from the first few words, and remain favorites years after my first encounters with them.

Still, with so many of my friends talking about his latest offering, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, I had to read it. Since my library (which I don’t like to visit in person, because it smells like unloved old people and I find the silence oppressive) now has eBooks available, I picked this as my first digital check-out.

I was not disappointed. While rather dark, The Ocean at the End of the Lane is engaging, interesting, and quite gripping. We want the little boy to figure everything out, but we also want him to be okay. It’s a book of magic and mystery and moonlight, and is a great fairy-tale for adults who still retain enough childhood to believe in the possibility of dark creatures and fantastic happenings.

Goes well with Snickerdoodles and chai tea lattes.