Oh, hai! I read books, then I write down what I think of them.
Frankly, any book which opens with jokes about leprosy is going to be a winner in my eyes. Lost and Found doesn't just make jokes about leprosy, it's also incredibly readable and, frankly, rather good. Good enough, in fact, for me to forgive the fact it's got a tagline on the cover.
It is the story of Carol, who writes a letter to the universe, marking the envelope with a smiley face. It is the story of Albert, a postman close to retirement, shunted into the dead letter office to keep him busy until his final day - where he finds Carol's letters.
It's funny, full of glib asides naturally done rather than heavy-handed punchlines.
It's human.
It is life and life's claustrophobia: decisions made badly, the treadmill beneath your feet, the "just this and then I can ...". It's bittersweet rather than angsty.
It's characters you want to know more about, who - in the tradition of all the best British sitcoms - manage to be comedic yet somehow true.
It is very, very rare for a book to get 5 stars from me. Harold Fry did, because even at the end, even when you know the shape of the story, it still manages a gut punch. Lost and Found gets 4 and the rare words: I will definitely be reading more by this author.