If, like me, you assumed the “Lost Stories” subtitle to be a marketing ploy—actually meaning “previously uncollected”—you’re in for quite a surprise. The tale of how a couple of dedicated fans unearthed these unattributed stories, written under pseudonyms for newspapers during the 1970s and 80s, is as fascinating as the fiction that follows. Not even those closest to Terry knew these existed; what was once lost has now, accidentally and posthumously, been found.
Throughout these twenty stories, you can watch Terry honing his craft and finding his voice on his way to becoming Terry Pratchett. These were written long before he came up with Discworld, but you can tell that it partly grew from here—many include the first incarnations of characters, ideas, and places that he would later fully develop and incorporate into the series. Particularly the final story, The Quest for the Keys, the only fantasy story included, taking up almost a third of the book, contains a first mention of Morpork (no Ankh yet), as well as precursors of the Unseen University wizards, Cohen the Barbarian, and Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler.
The stories that precede it are mostly short, sort of juvenile, and absurdly English; many of them are under-baked or suffer from rushed endings, but they contain sparks of charming originality. Even though none are set on the not-yet-thought-of Discworld, they seem to hint at the magical universe Terry would later go on to create. There’s about half a dozen Christmas stories, some of which play with ideas later revisited in Mort and Hogfather, and another half-dozen is set in or around the Gritshire town of Blackbury, in which weird happenings, such as UFO landings, talking horses, peculiar weather, a hundred-yard meat pie, haunted steamrollers, and defiant evicted ghosts are par for the course. Terry also takes us back to prehistoric times, into the Welsh-English Wild West, behind the scenery in a Truman Show-like story, and into the gardens of people reluctantly hosting an opportunistic gnome or growing a bona fide money tree.
Are any of these stories essential? No, and they can’t hold a candle to what was yet to come from Terry’s pen, but to the Pratchett completist, they are a miraculous treasure: After Terry’s death, his business manager and literary executor Rob Wilkins drove a steamroller over the hard drive containing all of his work in progress, fulfilling Terry’s request for all his unfinished drafts to be destroyed; this is the last “new” Pratchett we’ll ever get.