I don’t get it.  I mean, I don’t understand why anyone would divide Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels into those for adults (35) and those for young adults (6).

It’s not like he reverted to words of single syllables or to Mother Goose ideas when he was writing a book that publishers sold as a YA novel.  In fact, he would get pretty dark, maybe especially dark, in such books.

Five of those six YA novels feature a born witch named Tiffany Aching who’s all of nine when, in The Wee Free Men (2003), she’s called upon to save her world from living nightmares and other bona fide monsters seeking to invade from really terrible place called Fantasyland.  The others are:

I’m partial of the Tiffany Aching books because they’re very good, as good as any “adult” Discworld book, and a couple have been particularly important for me.

My review of I Shall Wear Midnight was the first entry in this Pump Don’t Work blog on July 23, 2011, the first of posts that now number over 1,000.  And, then, on September 18, 2015, I reviewed the last of Pratchett’s books The Shepherd’s Crown, published posthumously, following his death from early onset Alzheimer’s disease the previous March.

“An inconvenience”

According to a note from an editorial assistant in The Shepherd’s Crown, Pratchett wrote the book near the end of his life when he was dealing with increasing disability. He knew what was to come, but, in the novel, he didn’t pull any punches for his readers or for himself.

A key scene takes place when Granny Weatherwax lays down on her bed and waits:


“I know it is you, Mr. Death….”


“Too many to count, Mr. Reaper. Well, you’ve finally got me, you old bugger. I’ve had my season, no doubt about it, and I was never one for pushing myself forward, or complaining…”


“It’s an inconvenience, true enough, and I don’t like it at all, but I know that you do it for everyone…”

That’s a key scene in the novel, but it’s also a key scene in all of Pratchett’s books.  Death — the fact and the personification as a skeleton with a scythe — was one of his core themes.  In fact, that CAPITAL LETTER-TALKING guy, who acts very human despite his apparent lack of emotions, shows up in all but two of the Discworld novels.

So it’s not surprising that, in his last book, Pratchett was looking Death — his own — in the face as he described Granny dying.  If Granny doesn’t whine and wail, if she meets the Reaper with equanimity and perhaps a bit of annoyance at the “inconvenience,” perhaps that’s how Pratchett was approaching his own end.  Or wanting to approach is own end.

“Poison goes”

This existential discussion about death with Death, remember, is occurring in a novel that publishers identify as a young adult book.  In other words, for those sorts of readers who aren’t mature enough for the grown-up books.

Similarly, I Shall Wear Midnight isn’t butterflies and teacups.  In fact, it’s one of Pratchett’s darker novels. In its opening pages, a 13-year-old pregnant girl is beaten so badly by her father than she loses her baby.

And Tiffany, who by now is 16, is being pursued by the Cunning Man, an eyeless, body-less evil presence who is the impetus to witch-burning (of all sorts) throughout history. 

“Poison goes where poison’s welcome.” That’s the book’s mantra, the explanation about how the Cunning Man’s evil makes its way into the world — through people who are open to it, who welcome it.

Not butterflies and teacups.

“Smelled a bit”

One of the two Discworld novels in which Death, the guy, fails to appear is the 2011 book Snuff which is about tobacco but also brings to mind the use of the word as slang for killing.  There are dark elements as well in the other Death-less book, The Wee Free Men.

Tiffany, who knows in her bones that she’s a witch, is talking with Miss Tick, whom she suspects (correctly) is a fully trained witch, about old Mrs. Snapperly.

Old Mrs. Snapperly lived alone in a cottage, and everyone thought she was a witch.

“She died in the snow last winter,” said Tiffany slowly.

“And now tell me what you’re not telling me,” said Miss Tick, sharp as a knife.

“Er…she was begging, people think, but no one opened their doors to her, and, er…it was a cold night, and…she died….Everyone said she was a witch….”

“You don’t think so?”

Well, Tiffany explains, the Baron’s 12-year-old son Roland went riding in the woods last summer and never came back — the woods where Mrs. Snapperly lived— and people, well, thought she killed him by cooking him in her oven.

Mrs. Snapperly had no teeth, talked to herself and had a cat and a squint, and, after Roland disappeared, people harassed her, even to the extent of burning her books.

“I think she was just a sick old lady who was no use to anyone and smelled a bit and looked odd because she had no teeth,” said Tiffany.  “She just looked like a witch in a story.”

“Them as can’t”

Tiffany is sure that, if her Granny Aching had been alive, Mrs. Snapperly wouldn’t have died. She’d have spoken up, and people would have listened.  After all, everyone listened to Granny who, even if no one said it out loud, was a witch with power. 

Tiffany remembers Granny stepping in to convince a man beating his donkey to stop.  He learned his lesson.  And, afterwards, she said to her granddaughter:

“Them as can do has to do for them as can’t.  And someone has to speak for them as has no voices.”

That is the job of witches.  Even more, it’s the job of human beings.

The Wee Free Men isn’t a book about butterflies and teacups.

Patrick T. Reardon


Written by : Patrick T. Reardon

For more than three decades Patrick T. Reardon was an urban affairs writer, a feature writer, a columnist, and an editor for the Chicago Tribune. In 2000 he was one of a team of 50 staff members who won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. Now a freelance writer and poet, he has contributed chapters to several books and is the author of Faith Stripped to Its Essence. His website is https://patricktreardon.com/.


  1. Erica C. September 23, 2022 at 11:34 am - Reply

    Great review!

    I do have one small correction: Snuff is way more about hard drug addiction (and racial/economic othering & exploitation) than tobacco.

    Vetinari says, “I have no particular objection to people taking substances that make them feel better, or more contented or, for that matter, see little dancing purple fairies—or even their god if it comes to that. It’s their brain, after all, and society can have no claim on it, providing they’re not operating heavy machinery at the time. However, to sell drugs to trolls that actually make their heads explode is simply murder, the capital crime.”

    But Pratchett’s larger theme is the devastated struggle of those forced to the margins of society:
    “Let it be said here that those who live their lives where life hangs by less than a thread understand the dreadful algebra of necessity, which has no mercy.”

    • Patrick T Reardon September 23, 2022 at 3:07 pm - Reply

      Thanks, Erica, for your insightful comment. There is always a lot more going on in one of Pratchett’s novels than the story and the silliness. His social commentary is spot on.

  2. Melissa Carroll November 9, 2022 at 3:23 pm - Reply

    Good review. Just one point of contention. The term “young adult novel” is typically in reference to a coming of age story, not so much the target audience. Often times they’re one in the same, but nevertheless, key difference from a publisher’s perspective.

  3. Melissa Carroll November 9, 2022 at 3:28 pm - Reply


    This was such an aha moment for me!

  4. Evanlee June 26, 2023 at 9:51 pm - Reply

    I’ve never read your reviews before, so I don’t know your review style. I was excited to see a review about the Wee Free Men, to see the book from someone else’s perspective. I don’t know if you can imagine my disappointment when Wee Free Men was hardly mentioned along with the other greats mentioned in this series. Unless I looked in the wrong place. I would skip Wee Free Men and go straight to the other books you mentioned and eventually get to them and feel the worse to have left them ’til the end. Those little rotten, wonderful, rowdy scamps are a brilliant addition to literature.

    If I might just remark about the darkness in the novels that got classified as YA, more children today than not, understand that through some type of personal experience. It’s just another day in the neighborhood, if I may borrow Mr. Rogers, for them.

    I’m sorry their father died, and in such a horrible manner. Sir Terry Pratchett leaves a hole in the literary world that can never be filled.

    • Patrick T Reardon June 26, 2023 at 10:10 pm - Reply


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