When I started showing an interest in science-fiction and fantasy, my mom—herself a lifelong fan of the genre—put stack after stack of books in front of me. The classics, the best of the best, the foundations upon which the genre was built, and all the ones who stood on their shoulders. It was practically a dragon’s hoard of fantasy books. But I was a stupid teenager, and I refused to read any of them on principle. I wasn’t going to be told what I’d like. I’d forge my own path through the genre, thank you very much.

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