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Given that Barry Hughart gives me moderate hives, there's no rational reason to be so pleased at having scored a copy of Eight Skilled Gentlemen from a new second-hand bookstore that's opened up in erstwhile Rochdale, in the very location that ohh, a mere forty years ago was the SCM Bookstore. (Note that my experience was quite different from the author of that article's, both in respect to the man he's talking about and the layout of the store. *I* don't remember any three storeys to SCM.)
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Although my real favorite is whichever I'm reading at the time.