2014 Book #63: Over Sea, Under Stone

Here I am, at the end of the year, in catch-up mode AGAIN. Meh. Maybe my 2015 resolution needs to be to get my blogging act together. (Really? you ask. No, not really. My actual plan is to outlaw recreational cheese and nuts in my house. Maybe I’ll last ten minutes.) Anyway, my laziness means that this post will be short, as I have one more book to review and my grand end-of-the-year post to write. Wish me luck.

Which means that there is no way I’ll do this book justice. Over Sea, Under Stone is aimed at a younger demographic than I usually read, but I enjoyed it more than most YA novels I’ve read recently (not that I read lots of those, either). It’s kind of like the Hardy Boys discover a fantastical map and begin a huge adventure that involves King Arthur and (probably) a dragon.

Okay, that’s almost exactly what happens. Three siblings and their mostly conveniently absent parents go to visit their eccentric uncle in Cornwall. He happens to live in a huge old house, and you begin to wonder very quickly if it contains a certain wardrobe. That, it doesn’t, but there is a conveniently hidden staircase to a conveniently hidden attic which contains a conveniently hidden mysterious map for the children to discover and puzzle over. Turns out their discovery is also convenient to their uncle, who rented the house and has been looking for that very map for some time now. The children and their uncle begin a race against some sort of Dark Forces in search of the (a?) Holy Grail, which had at one point been in King Arthur’s Possession. Things happen. Mysteries. Mayhem. You get it.

See? I made Over Sea, Under Stone sound awful! What’s funny is despite all the clichés, it’s not. I enjoyed it immensely, and I’m going to read the rest of the series soon. It’s quick and fun and exciting, even with the few eye-rolls in the process.

I wish I had discovered this book when I was ten.

Which all means that you should settle in for some light winter reading. This book is best served with a roaring fire and a footstool. And maybe some hot chocolate. Sadly, I don’t have any of those things, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Image credit: Sharon Langridge