I have noticed that as writers get more popular, their books become more rushed, the plot less thought out, the characters not as fully developed, the hand of an editor noticeably absent. I guess this should come as no surprise. The publisher knows the title will sell, so why take the extra time?

Unfortunately, Moore is an author who suffers from this malady. Ever since Lamb, which I think was his high point, his books have been - while still entertaining - lacking the sparkle that made his earlier novels so much fun.

In A Dirty Job, Moore explores how Death works - and by Death, I mean the guy with the black robe and scythe. Except Death turns out to be several rather innocuous guys and gals, most of them shopkeepers, who suddenly find themselves charged with picking up and reselling objects containing the souls of the recently deceased. How this whole process works - and why it works that way—is not adequately explained. Questions come to mind: What is the difference between a person with a soul and a person without one? Why does someone reach middle age or even old age without a soul? When the soul passes on to another person, does the soul’s personality take over the former personality of the new owner, like demonic possession?

But never mind all that, because the plot is about horrific wraith creatures that live in the sewers and are trying to take over the surface world, and the return of something called the Luminatus, which is actually the capital-D Death (or so the book implies). Nothing ever comes together very well, and the end is an unexplained letdown, but the story is still fun and, in many parts, funny.