This was a book.

At least, it could be considered a book as long as one defines a book as a large mass of layered papers.

In fact, this particular book consisted of 502 pages.

Undoubtedly, it met the basic physical criteria of being a book.

However, the question remained: was it a story?

Was it a book in the traditional sense, defined as a coherent narrative with a distinct beginning, middle, and end, complete with recognizable themes, motivations, and a sense of progress?

Was it the kind of book that book readers typically preferred?

The answer was a resounding no!

So, was it really a book at all?

Or was it just a waste of countless hours of one's life?

Who could say for sure?

Perhaps it deserved a rating of 2 stars or less.

Talk about a book that goes nowhere!

I read Son of a Witch because I had previously read Mirror Mirror and Wicked. I truly adored Mirror Mirror - it was an extremely creative and fascinating reimagining of the Snow White tale. I liked Wicked to a considerably lesser extent, yet it managed to hold some interest until the very end. It had a plethora of more bizarre elements, such as the wicked witch of the east having no arms, and a rather rambling plot. However, Elphaba (the wicked witch of the west) was an interesting character throughout the novel.

Nevertheless, Son of a Witch has absolutely no redeeming quality. The main character, Liir, who may or may not be, but let's be honest, really is Elphaba's son, is two-dimensional and bounces around haphazardly from one random event to another, and from one random choice to the next. He commences on a quest and then simply abandons it. He heads down one path after another without ever truly having a clear reason for his actions or any genuine character development. Frankly speaking, the book is dull, the main character is unengaging, and the plot is jumpy and needlessly gory. If you desire to read Maguire, it would be far better to pick up Mirror Mirror instead. Son of a Witch is nothing but a waste of time.

I have a deep affection for the Oz universe. It has always held a special place in my heart, with its enchanting landscapes, magical creatures, and captivating stories. However, when it comes to Maguire's style, I must admit that it doesn't quite resonate with me. There's something about his writing that just doesn't click

Yet, for reasons unknown to me, I have found myself reading this particular damn book not once, but twice. It's almost as if there is an invisible force pulling me back to it. Maybe it's the allure of the Oz universe that keeps drawing me in, despite my reservations about Maguire's style

I can't quite put my finger on it, but each time I pick up the book, I find myself getting lost in the story once again. It's a strange and somewhat perplexing phenomenon, but there's no denying that this book has had an impact on me, whether I like it or not.