Hello, I am new contributor to the h2g2 Earth Addition. My name is Glenjamin Franklin and thought I would start off with a book review. Welcome to "Not Sally and the Agents of DUCK" by Glen Lemmert. I will do my best to not provide and spoilers.

So, let us begin at the beginning. I found the first chapter to catch my imagination with a somewhat cliché writing technique. The main character has amnesia, wakes up and must assess his situation. While this start has begun many books, the author takes a unique approach of having the main character and narrator do a self-assessment which includes “I exist, am human, not a lump of coal or any other by product of millions of years of heat, pressure and the decay of prehistoric plants and dinosaurs, with appropriate appendages, have amnesia, but am fixated on calling myself Steve and it is not dark.” While giving absolutely no useful information other than his name is not Steve; it does set the tone for the book having a sense of humor.

The story continues introducing additional characters as needed to loosely keep the plot moving. The author wastes little time with character development and generally focuses on the plot. Though at times the plot is ignored to tell yet another silly story. It reminds me of a Monty Python movie in that while there is an underlying plot to it all, in the end it seems to be just a jumble together of short humorous bits. For example:

Apparently, the designers of the Golden Gate Bridge and the city planners of San Francisco did not have the slightly amnesiatic driver in mind when laying out the roads from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Bay Bridge so one can get from point A to point B without having to get distracted by point C.  We ended up at point C. No one wants to end up at point C.

           “NS, I think we may have taken a wrong turn back there.”

           “Why do you think that”

           As I point to a dead end sign on the right, “Well, I see a dead end sign right there.”

           “Steve, that doesn’t look like a regular dead end sign.”

           “What do you mean, it very clearly says dead end.”

           “Uh, yes, you do have a point it does say dead end, but it is written in Crayon.”

           “And, your point is?”

           “It is written in crayon on what looks to be a flattened out Twinkie box taped to an old ski pole stuck in the ground.”

           “Good point.”

           “Hey, let’s ask the old guy what the deal is, he looks friendly enough.”

           “Oh sure, I’m a stranger and still stuck calling you Not Sally, but this friendly looking old guy sitting in his lawn chair on what I can best describe some sort of false representation of a dead end is ok to talk to?”

           “Well, I’m not going to talk to him, you are.”

           “Oh, well I hope he doesn’t hit me over the head with that hammer sitting next to his chair, because you know to a man with a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”

           “Steve, stop stalling and go ask him what’s with the dead end sign.”

           “Fine.”

           I get out of the SUV and NS promptly locks the doors, nice.

           “Hi, I’m pretty sure I’m Steve, what’s up with the sign?”

           “Hi pretty sure I’m Steve, can I call you PSIS for short, Steve is a really hard name to remember.”

           “Uh, sure, what’s with the sign?”

           “Too much traffic.”

           “What do you mean too much traffic?”

           “Too many people driving crazy down my road, so I put up a dead end sign and now no one comes down here except to ask me about the sign.”

           “Your road?”

           “Yes, I’m Ffred and this is Ffred Road, you know point C when traveling from point A to point B.”

           “So you are saying, you are Ffred and this is a Ffred end?”

           “PSIS, I never thought of it that way, but I do think I’ll just call you Steve, PSIS sounds too much like a slow leak in a bicycle tire.”

           “Ffred, if I promise not to drive crazy, can I use your road to get to the Bay Bridge and head toward Livermore?”

           “Yes, would you like me to tell you how?”

           “That would be awesome.”

           “Well, first you have to ignore the dead end and make sure you don’t stop to talk to Ffred, he is a little off his rocker if you know what I mean.  Who goes around setting up fake dead end signs to stop people from driving down his street. And, don’t get him talking, especially asking for directions, because he will start telling you about how he survived the big one of 1989 by hiding in his neighbor’s bathtub with an old bucket on his head yelling ‘the end is near, the end is near.’”

           Hoping Ffred will not notice, I slip away back to the SUV and knock on the window, because NS still has the doors locked and wait for NS to unlock the doors.”

           Ffred still going on “and, you know a moose bit my sister once.  Out at Yosemite, we were skipping through the woods, when a moose jumped out of a tree and bit her, right on the nose. Mind you, moose bites can be nasty.”

           NS unlocks the doors and I climb in.

           Overall, the pace is quick and can easily be read in a couple of hours. I found it to be an enjoyable read even if the ending did seem a bit forced. It was almost as if the author had decided that he had reached enough pages to call it a book and then plotted the shortest distance from where the plot was at to some sort of conclusion. I recommend this book and plan on reading the next installment of Not Sally in “Not Sally and the Pirate’s Treasure,” mostly to see what sort of nonsense the author comes up with next. I believe the book is available on Amazon, both as an ebook or paperback. I will check back in a week or so with a review of book two.