Jag sitter och studsar av iver efter att ha läst om Pratchetts kommande bok: Unseen Academicals. Återigen en parodi på moderna företeelser, verkar det som. Jag har kopierat synopsis för den som är intresserad:

Football has come to the ancient city of Ankh-Morpork – not the old fashioned, grubby pushing and shoving, but the new, fast football with pointy hats for goalposts and balls that go going when you drop them. And now, the wizards of Unseen University must win a football match, without using magic, so they’re in the mood for trying everything else. The prospect of the Big Match draws in a street urchin with a wonderful talent for kicking a tin can, a maker of jolly good pies, a dim but beautiful young woman, who might just turn out to be the greatest fashion model there has ever been, and the mysterious Mr Nutt (and no one knows anything much about Mr Nutt, not even Mr Nutt, which worries him, too. As the match approaches, four lives are entangled and changed for ever. Because the thing about football – the important thing about football – is that it is not just about football. Here we go! Here we go! Here we go!

Andra böcker som nyligen kommit ut eller kommer ut inom kort, av Pratchett är; Nation och Making Money.

Making Money är uppföljaren till boken jag läser just nu, Going Postal. Synopsis på Making Money: 

The Ankh-Morpork Post Office is running like . . . well, not at all like a government office. The mail is delivered promptly; meetings start and end on time; five out of six letters relegated to the Blind Letter Office ultimately wend their way to the correct addresses. Postmaster General Moist von Lipwig, former arch-swindler and confidence man, has exceeded all expectations—including his own. So it’s somewhat disconcerting when Lord Vetinari summons Moist to the palace and asks, ”Tell me, Mr. Lipwig, would you like to make some real money?”

Vetinari isn’t talking about wages, of course. He’s referring, rather, to the Royal Mint of Ankh-Morpork, a venerable institution that haas run for centuries on the hereditary employment of the Men of the Sheds and their loyal outworkers, who do make money in their spare time. Unfortunately, it costs more than a penny to make a penny, so the whole process seems somewhat counterintuitive.

Next door, at the Royal Bank, the Glooper, an ”analogy machine,” has scientifically established that one never has quite as much money at the end of the week as one thinks one should, and the bank’s chairman, one elderly Topsy (née Turvy) Lavish, keeps two loaded crossbows at her desk. Oh, and the chief clerk is probably a vampire.

But before Moist has time to fully consider Vetinari’s question, fate answers it for him. Now he’s not only making money, but enemies too; he’s got to spring a prisoner from jail, break into his own bank vault, stop the new manager from licking his face, and, above all, find out where all the gold has gone—otherwise, his life in banking, while very exciting, is going to be really, really short. . . .

Jag kan ju också passa på att gratulera Terry till att, tidigare i år, ha blivit dubbad till riddare för sina insatser inom litteraturen.  Liten videointervju där Terry tar upp sin reaktion på denna utmärkelse (bland andra saker).