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 has 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 counter-intuitive.
Less of a review - more of a note to self. If Terry Pratchett published the doodles from the notepad on his telephone table I'd probably read that, so MAKING MONEY was no trial at all, even though it's probably not one of the better of the Discworld novels.
Maybe that's because there was a decided lack of wizards, maybe it's because Moist Von Lipwig isn't quite as flamboyant or, well let's say it, lunatic as some of the central characters in other books. Maybe it's also because the plot isn't quite as convoluted, layered, twisty, and, well lunatic, as others.
Frankly a slightly less than stellar Terry Pratchett book is still a thing of joy for me. In 2013 I am really hoping to go back and start the entire Discworld series from the very beginning again just because I want to...