The Ocean at the End of the Lane read like a cross between Roald Dahl and Harry Potter. The babysitter, Urusla Monkton, is terrifyingly monstrous – much like Mrs. Trunchbull in Matilda. And the hunger birds that claw at the little boy towards the end are eerily similar to the Death Eaters (aren’t they, people who have read this?) As a result, I felt like the elements meant to portray Gaiman as masterful – the terror, the horror, even the perceptive insight into the mind of a child – had already been done before. Yes this book was well written – Gaiman writes the fantastical effortlessly – but either I couldn’t buy into it as an adult or I felt like I’d had my fill already. Why are so many adults reading this, I wonder? Wouldn’t this be best marketed to (old enough) children? I’d love some thoughts on this, guys. Am I missing something?