Once or twice, but it rarely worked out the way I thought it would. In many cases, it seemed as though I stumbled upon their masterpieces for my first outing, and the rest of what I found paled in comparison. Frank Herbert is the perfect example. I loved Dune so much, I wanted to read everything he had written, and while I made it through five of the six books in the Dune series, they got progressively worse, and when I tried to read the Pandora series, I found myself bored to tears, so I gave up seeing what else he wrote. Another example was James Clavell. I loved Shōgun, and while I did enjoy Tai-Pan, I struggled to get through Gai-Jin, and have yet to complete King Rat or even attempt any of his other works.
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