The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones
When I was a kid growing up in Montana, hunting was a steadfast part of my family’s life. Elk, deer (mulies and white-tails), antelope, pheasant — if you wanted to eat it, you had to go out into the snow-covered woods before the break of dawn and hope that you would find something early enough that you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day dragging the cleaned carcass back to your truck. There were rules, of course: respect nature to the point of veneration;
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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…