"Pratchett's witty reach is even longer than usual here, from Pulp Fiction to His Girl Friday. Readers who've never visited Discworld before may find themselves laughing out loud."--Publishers Weekly
The Discworld has seen just about everything. Then comes the Ankh-Morpork Times, its first paper of record, edited by struggling scribe William de Worde, and staffed by a band of axe-wielding dwarfs and a recovering vampire with a life-threatening passion for flash photography.
Reporting the news is a risky business. An ethical journalist, de Worde has a nasty habit of investigating stories that quickly creates powerful enemies eager to stop his presses. And what better way than to start the Inquirer, a titillating tabloid that conveniently interchanges what's real for what sells.
When de Worde gets a tip on a hot story concerning Ankh-Morpork's leading patrician, Lord Vetinari, all hell breaks loose, leaving the city without a leader. The facts say Lord Vetinari is guilty. But as William de Worde learns, facts don't always tell the whole story. There's that pesky little thing called . . . the truth.