My favourite author of all time is Douglas Adams. Among other things he wrote a trilogy (in 5 parts) which started with the publication of The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy in October 1979. Adams died suddenly in 2001 without leaving a single note or idea for future books in the series. Although he was quoted as predicting that he might, one day, write a sixth book we, his fans, were left wondering what might have been.

Apparently not for much longer. And Another Thing, the sixth book in the series, is to be released next Monday which just happens to be the 30th anniversary of the original volume’s publication.

Adams hasn’t risen from the dead or communicated from the other side. The book has been written by children’s author Eoin Colfer.

He has the blessing of Adams’ widow and daughter (everywhere you see the book mentioned in print it is preceded by the word authorised) but I don’t care. I won’t be buying it. Or borrowing it. Or reading it. I might not be able to stop myself from ripping it from the shelves and jumping up and down on it until it is pulp.

My gripe?

When did the world become so starved of creative talent that stealing borrowing someone else’s characters, settings and writing style is seen as acceptable?

tn_Adams GraveWhen did we stop accepting that things cease to be? That people die? That series end? That sometimes this doesn’t happen to suit publisher’s bank balances?

Have we become pathologically and collectively thanatophobic or is just that anything fair game in the never-ending chase for money?

I’m just about prepared to believe that Colfer is an Adams fan with nothing but good intentions (and a sizable chunk of hubris) although I take issue with the statement he made in December

“I think it’s going to be a good book, not a Douglas Adams book, but one that will stand on its own”.

No, Mr Colfer however much of a fan you are and whatever the book will do it cannot possibly stand on its own. To stand on its own it would need to be something other than the sixth book in some else’s series.

I wish with all my heart that a good (great) thing had been left alone.

What about you? Do you want to join me in armed combat against this kind of blatant cash grab? Or have I got it all wrong? Have you enjoyed other similar works? Perhaps you liked Devil May Care (a James Bond novel written by Sebastian Faulks in homage to Ian Flemming) or Scarlett (the ’sequel’ to Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With The Wind penned by Alexandra Ripley some 54 years after the original and, presumably, after Mitchell’s heirs had squandered her estate)?