I hope Martin Millar never reads this blog post and decides that I’m a jerk, but I’m going to go ahead and say it anyway: Milk, Sulphate, and Alby Starvation is his first book and you can tell. I wish you could not tell – I love it when I can’t tell – but you could tell. You could also tell it was absolutely definitely Martin Millar and nobody else whatsoever, what with all the shifts in point of view, and the brief, brief little snippets of action at one time. (My short attention span thanks you for that, Martin Millar.) Like all of Martin Millar’s books, Milk, Sulphate, and Alby Starvation was amusing and enjoyable and a bit frenetic. It was just a smidge rougher than his others. Lux the Poet was the same. I still liked them both.