A fantasy adventure in the extreme... Tuesday continues her adventures ~over there,~ a magical place that only writers can visit. A world where there is a library which contains every book ever written, plus a special wing for the books that are currently being written, but remain unfinished. And every story written has its own world, a place that normally, only the author can visit, though Tuesday seems to have some special abilities in that sense.
As "A Week Without Tuesday" opens, different worlds for different books have started colliding, knocking creatures (or oceans) from one world into the next, causing chaos in all of the worlds ever made. Tuesday follows the magical story-thread to the the world of Vivienne Small, the heroine of Tuesday's mother's bestselling book series. Tuesday and Vivienne, along with Tuesday's faithful dog, Baxterr, begin their adventure to set everything right again.
What I like: All of the main characters are well crafted and quite likable. Tuesday, Vivienne, Baxterr, Tuesday's parents, her mother's assistant, Ms. Digby, and teen author Black Luckhurst, are all a pleasure to read about. The book is lightly illustrated, (about one drawing per chapter), and those illustrations are perfect for the book.
What I don't like: A fantasy world needs rules, and those rules need to make sense to the reader. Rawling's Harry Potter series is one of the best examples of this task done right. Though magic abounds in every aspect of the series, all of the magic has rules, and those rules are all clear to the reader. In the Tuesday McGillicuddy books, the setting and foundation for the plot are fantastical in the extreme. There are rules, but they are not always clear to the reader, and even when they are, some are so absurdly unbelievable, even within the setting of a fantasy book, that I was pulled out of the story and forced to roll my eyes a little at the absurdity of it.
I am one of those strange adults who reads almost exclusively YA literature. With this series, I think I would have enjoyed it much more at the age of 10 or 12, when my own mind was more pliable and willing to accept extreme absurdities. ( )