Come on, three formulaic but ok in a mediocre sort of way childrens books, and then three "hooray I am now so rich I have escaped all editorial control" literary equivalents of constipation.

I mean, one of them is about CIVIL SERVANTS fer chrissake. How bleedin' magical is that? "Harry Potter and the Sarcastic Memorandum".

I especially hate Harry Potter because for the six months before the last one was published ("Harry Potter and the Invisible Plot" I think it was) I couldn't buy a newspaper in WH Smiths without the checkout staff asking if I wanted to pre-order Harry Potter. EVERY DAY.