I'm not often wrong about books, etc, but Jesus, was I off the mark when I prematurely recommended the Dork of Cork earlier in January. I recommended it 80 pages in -- by 200, it was getting lame. By the end, which I finally forced myself to get to about five minutes ago, I wanted to impale myself with a sugar spoon. So, I'm wrong, and I admit it. It's crap. Saccharine, unworthy crap. The author had a great beautiful idea, and let it all fall apart when it was too big to work with.