Dostoevsky would be far too pedestrian for Mr. Jones. Everyone has heard of him. No, sir, Mr. Jones will only read novels written in the authentic voices of Zimbabwean goat herders and the occasional male geisha.
Having said that, I don't read Pratchett for the sparkling prose. I read him because I enjoy his amused and forgiving observations of human nature - a subject on which our Mr. Jones is willfully, nay, proudly ignorant.
Something is happening, but you don't know what it is. Do you, Mr. Jones?
____________________________In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.