This was a book with many good moments. The plot was riveting, there were scenes that were just so well-written that they gave me shivers, and the overall imagery of the novel was just beautiful. If I could paint some moments from this novel, I would, because they were just that well-described and beautiful.
Overall though, the book sort of fell flat for me. The characters were boring- Richard as perhaps the most dry Average White Guy author stand-in I've ever read (which is really saying something), who has sexual tension with literally every single woman he meets (including those described as being young and childlike, yuck), who is bad at literally EVERYTHING he attempts and still ends up more powerful and respected than most of the characters in the novel at the end, whose goal is so uncompelling that I found myself begging for the point of view to switch back to the villains and side characters who at least had a tiny amount of interestingness. Gaiman must describe the eyes of every female character using a flower or gemstone, except for the token Ambiguously Brown Exotic Woman, who must be described as "caramel" every time she is brought up, no exceptions. No characters other than Richard really had any agency, nobody's character arc was truly completed except Richard's, overall the entire world seemed to revolve around the whiny, flat main character. This came at the expense of learning more about the world of London Below, which was crafted so well, and it led to my complete lack of empathy when characters were captured, tortured, or killed off.
The book was so concerned about making sure I KNEW that Richard was a coward who only wanted to go home and didn't like being in danger, that it forgot to give me a reason to care about anyone else.
I had high hopes for this book, but I just couldn't do it. 2.5 stars.