Like many other reviewers, I wanted to love this book because I have loved Daniel Handler's writing so profoundly. I very, very rarely pre-order books, because I like to make sure I'm getting value for my money, but I pre-ordered this one; I trust, or trusted, in his writing in a way that I do not for almost any other living author. 
 A brief history of my experience with DH: I read "A Series Of Unfortunate Events" as an older teenager and admired its precision and artistry, resolving as a result to seek out his works for older audiences. I thus came across "The Basic Eight", a novel I started just before bed intending to knock off a chapter and then sleep, but ended up staying up until 4 in the morning to finish. It was so compelling a premise and so beautifully written, so hilarious and sharp and angry, that I couldn't put it down. I have read it many times since. I read "Adverbs" next, and felt the same way, loved every word. "Watch Your Mouth" missed the mark a little for me, but not in any way that made me doubt Handler's genius as an author - it was once again beautifully written with an inventive premise, just didn't involve the types of characters I'm interested in reading about. "Why We Broke Up" was good enough, a solid B-minus work; I enjoyed parts of it and chalked up my misgivings and occasional annoyance with the book to the fact that it appeared to be aimed at a younger crowd. I pre-ordered that one too, and though I felt disappointed with it on the whole, I was still eager to read Handler's next effort. 
 Fast forward to yesterday. I unwrapped "We Are Pirates" as soon as I got it in the mail and eagerly read the first page. Then the second, then the third, the fourth. And all the while I could feel this sort of desperation rising in me as my eyes moved over the words. Like if I kept turning pages, I'd get to the real beginning of the book, out of this milquetoast prologue, and get sucked in to the actual story. But 80 pages in, I knew that I'd been kidding myself. The entire book sounded tired and bored with itself, diluted, deeply mediocre. Every character was a tedious zero, the "pirates!" premise essentially an unintentionally(?) misleading marketing tactic, the writing somehow at once featureless and trying too hard. I struggled to finish it and it was a relief to put down. 
 It's a tragic thing to find no trace of someone's distinctive voice in their writing. Handler always seemed to have a limitless pool of unusual, prickly, on-the-money metaphors and turns-of-phrase that could make a reader gasp or laugh or cringe or cry so perfectly, and while I did come across half-hearted examples here and there - "in a few months it would be as if she had simply shared an elevator with this story" - the book was mostly devoid of that lovely, sly, tightly-written prose I've come to expect. I feel terrible even writing this review - what if he happens to read it? How awful. I think it must be exponentially worse to read criticism from one who previously admired you, than to read it from one who never had any use for you at all. 
 I'll probably read his next book. I liked "The Basic Eight" and "Adverbs" too much to give up on DH entirely. But I'll be borrowing it from the library, no feverish anticipation or pre-ordering. I can't have my stupid little fangirl heart broken like this again. 
 1.5 stars for occasional cleverness and wit.