I’m a pretty squeamish person, so I can’t say that I necessarily ENJOYED reading The Buffalo Hunter Hunter. It was like watching That One Scene in the movie Bone Tomahawk over and over and over. But the rest of the story, the non-gross parts? Compelling as hell. Stephen Graham Jones has written an incredible tale of sorrow and guilt and loss and anger, doused the whole thing in gore, and tied it all together with characters that you somehow loathe and like at the same time. It’s definitely a story that will stick with me for a very long time.