Word kind of fail me. I just re-read the Patrick Rothfuss review and I think in some ways it sums up my feelings about this one (um, the part about the book, not about smores with Whedon & Gaiman but that would be cool too).It's dreamlike, yet grounded in reality. There's horror and beauty in equal measures. Goddesses along side the mundane. In short, it's childhood. Or it's life, when we actually come away from our screens and bills and worries enough to actually look at what's around us.
And I'm still not entirely sure that it all happened...
