text: This is one of those books where you actually feel embarrassment for the author.  The book is poorly researched, poorly written and, well, words just fail me.  While I am not a great Herriot fan, I do have to give him his due - the man could write well and could tell a good story (isn't that what authors are suppose to do?) but this guy Graham Lord, I suspect, has problems feeding paper into his typewriter!  The intire book is such an obvious ploy to make some money on the shirttail of a "dead" and popular author, it is rather nauseating.  Shame on the publisher for accepting such shoddy work!  I did finish the book though (thank God I did not purchase the thing) because each page became worse and worse and I could not stop, thinking with each turn of the page "well it just cannot be any worse than that last page/chapter."  How wrong I was!  If you must read the thing, borrow it or check it out of a library.  I would hate to see a person waste their money, and I certainly would not want the author and his publisher to be rewarded for a work such as this.  Herriot's life, warts and all, could be such a fastinating subject.  I do hope someone will turn out a good study of him eventually.  We certainly did not get it here
  