Spontaneous absolutely-not-paid-for review of ‘They Tell Me I’m The Bad Guy.’ A good one, no less. Give this cat web traffic and fealty.
I have a pretty eclectic taste in books, but my favorite genre has always been science fiction, and my favorite sub-genre of that is military science fiction. But every once in a while, a new niche will take off that has all kinds of interesting possibilites, like Superhero Fiction.
No, not novelizations of comic books or the fucking Avengers movies or the Justice League queers. I’m talking fresh, new superheroes. Superheroes in unusual situations, like a zombie apocalypse. Noirish crime thrillers set in the Louisiana swamp. C-List superheroes with powers so seemingly useless that they’re more of a hindrance than a help. And sometimes, supervillains that you just can’t help feeling sorry for.
All of these were fantastic reads (and re-reads), with interestingly imagined worlds, deeply flawed, vulnerable and most importantly, human characters. Nothing bores the tits off me faster than a godlike, invulnerable hero like Superman. Who gives a shit? There’s…
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