Book 60: "The Light Fantastic" by Terry Pratchett

'I mean - you know the Horse people's yurt, where we were last night?'
'Yesh.'
'Would you say it was a bit dark and greasy and smelt like a very ill horse?'
'Very accurate description, I'd shay.'
'He wouldn't agree. He'd say it was a magnificent barbarian tent, hung with the pelts of the great beasts hunted by the lean-eyed warriors from the edge of civilisation, and smelt of the rare and curious resins plundered from the caravans as they crossed the trackless - well, and so on. I mean it,' he added.
'He'sh mad?'
'Sort of mad. But mad with lots of money.'
'Ah, then he can't be mad. I've been around; if a man hash lotsh of money he'sh just ecshentric.'

"The Light Fantastic" continues the story of Rincewind the failed wizard, who is working as a tour guide for Twoflower (the Disc World's first tourist) and his magical Luggage, started in "The Colour of Magic".

As Rincewind struggles to keep himself and Twoflower alive, and cope with the great spell that is hiding in his mind, the Great A'Tuin is carrying the Disc World directly towards an ominous-looking red star, and the people are beginning to panic.

Not as good as later Disc World novels, but still very funny and worth reading.

Book 61: "The Sunday Philosophy Club" by Alexander McCall Smith

After attending a concert, Isabel Dalhousie is one of the few people left in the auditorium when a young man falls to his death from the gods. She is unable to forget the sight of him falling past the grand circle and although it is ruled a tragic accident, she starts to investigate the circumstances of the death. She is very well off and employs a housekeeper to run her large house, and her part-time job editing a philosophy journal leaves her plenty of time to investigate the tragedy, while the fact that her niece knows one of the dead man's flatmates slightly gives her a place to start.

Isabel is a rather annoying character and the detective story peters out towards the end of the book. I don't understand why the author gave it that title either; Isabel Dalhousie does run a Sunday philosophy club, but its members found Sunday afternoons an inconvenient time to meet, and it doesn't meet at all during the course of this book.

I picked up the sequel at the Unconvention at the weekend so I will read it soon, but I wouldn't have spent money on buying it. At the moment I'm waiting for the 7th No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency book to come out in paperback - none of the author's other series are half as interesting.