Odd Thomas takes the Wonkavator down the rabbit hole and goes sideways and slantways and longways and backways until he ends up in a freakish wonderland/neverland called Roseland, where everyone speaks in subtext and riddles and answers questions with questions and non-committal hums, and where the roses would be painted blood red...if there were any roses there to paint, and where the piggish mutants don't outstrip the humans for title of Greatest Monster Ever, and where no one ever grows older...

Frankly, I'm too exhausted after wading through the one hundred pages of good storyline interspersed with the two-hundred-sixty-eight pages of scenery description and information repeated from previous books to write an even moderately coherent review, so I'm going to pimp Shannon's and just say, yeah, ditto.