I always receive the new novel as a Christmas present, so I'm a bit late to the party with this thread. I'll trawl through the previous 25 pages in a minute, but I'm bullet pointing my thoughts before talking more deeply, first; to get them in order if nothing else.
* This is the worst written Discworld since, let's see, probably Equal Rites. I'm speaking primarily in terms of the prose. I'm not sure if this a function of the enforced change in Sir Terry's working methods or not; dictating a novel simply can't be the same as fingers on keyboard and, for better or worse, this was the most 'talky' Discworld novel I've read, if that's the right word.
* Willikins just got on my wick. Hard men don't yack on about it; they stay quiet and if they decide to do you, they do it with the minimum of fuss. This is the first time a hard case in a Pratchett novel has felt wrong
* At no point in this novel was there any sense of danger. Vimes steamrollered everyone and everything in his path with minimal effort.
* Who, or what, the heck was Stinky supposed to be? Maybe I'm thick, maybe it'll become more apparent on rereading, but Stinky felt like a plot thread left unexplained, and not in a 'Life's a mystery and not every question has an answer' kind of way.
* The fact that the principle characters were portrayed as sexual beings pleased me greatly. Not in a prurient sense, goodness knows the scenes were tame enough so as to give offence to no one, but in the sense that a happily married and deeply in love couple feel more real for it being there.
* The scenes in AM with the rest of the Watch felt shoehorned in and, whisper it, completely superfluous.
* I very much doubt that slavery was the intended targets of the anger in Snuff
, instead I suspect the new snobbery creeping into British society (For 'Goblin' read 'Chav' or 'Pikey') was the target. However, it wasn't as clear as it could be (assuming I'm right of course, which I'm often not) and at times felt, I hesitate to say this, outdated, because of that.
* Sir Terry Pratchett on his worst day is better than a hell of a lot of writers at their peak, so despite the gripes above I still enjoyed it immensely; just not to the normal extent of staying up until 4am on Boxing Day to finish it.
* Final note. The Truth
didn't immediately chime with me and it wasn't until rereading that I really got into it and it's since become one of my very favourites, so the status of Snuff
as my designated 'Least Favourite Terry Pratchett Novel' is provisional for now. I'll bet Big 'Tel (What? I can't coin a new nickname?) will be waiting for the next 12 months or so with baited breath to find out my final verdict.