My informal policy is I don’t read SFF books by white guys, and honestly, when I do contravene my policy, I often regret it. So the fact that I read not one but two SFF books by white dudes, back to back, should tell you something about how much I like these guys’ previous books. There were, however, flaws in my plan. Chief amongst them is the fact that for the goddamn life of me, I could not tell these two books apart. Twitter would mention them. Anticipated books lists would include them. Publicists would email about me. Every time…
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