I sit here with visions of Pratchett and Gaiman fans holding pitchforks at the ready as I write this. Good Omens is one of those books that you mention to people and they’ve either read and loved it and you are from that point on BFFs for life, or they’ve never heard of it and really enjoy Tom Clancy. In order to save my neck, I want to begin by saying that Good Omens was my gateway drug into the scifi/fantasy genre. So put down the pointy objects, you guys.
Picture this, 1999, a high schooler surrounded by stacks of horror novels. I was a major Vampire Chronicles junkie and when Lestat and I fell out for a short time, I’d tuck in with a Stephen King or Dean Koontz novel. It wasn’t all horror for me, of course, there were the ubiquitous school reading lists to keep me busy so I was attracted to “junk” reading, which I assumed was anything genre. Not Austen, Dostoevsky, or Joseph Campbell. Junk.