A number of times while reading The Fictional Man, by Al Ewing, I felt like I was on the edge of a great book. Like one of those clichéd oases in any stranded-in-the-desert movie, I could see it glimmering and hazy just at the edge of the horizon. But every time I thought I was nearly there, I was left with just more sand. Though that’s more than a little unfair. The Fictional Man is better than sand,
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Update: Yesterday was Independent Bookstore Day and I ordered the first two volumes of this.
Well done, Mandy! Thanks for your interesting and VERY well-written review. Your enthusiasm for the book in question will likely…
thanks for this! While I enjoy graphics, I confess it's an area I'm always far less aware of (save for…
Mandy, thank you for this great review. Today is Independent Bookstore Day and I will be at a specialty store…
Me, too! I think independent bookstore are enjoying a golden age, and I plan to continue to support that. One…