What dreams may come



I had a nice dream a few nights ago. Along with Alex, Ariel, Vegar and my mate Gordon we had set up our own c-operative SF book and comic store. All ours, with row upon row of excellent books we had picked, a bar and even a broom handle for chasing James Lovegrove away from the comics section (it's not a library you know!). And it was our, pardon the pun, ‘dream bookstore’. Not only was it like the one in San Fransciso (the name escapes me) where the only books stocked were ones picked by the staff as good books, we also had discerning dream customers. No-one ever asked us how to get to Edinburgh Castle and none of our book browsers ever, ever asked for the next instalment of Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time (this is when you realise you’re having a dream). As an added bonus Harvey Pekar came by (and why not?) and decided our lives should be immortalised in comic form in a mixture of American Splendour and Box Office Poison. Naturally we sold issues in the store too. Alt.EdReality Bookstore was famous, with our favourite writers coming in to do events and our favourite bands wanting to do gigs in the bar area. Alas, tomorrow sees a return after a nice weekend off (first whole weekend off in about 6 or 7 weeks) to Bastardstone’s. Oh well, a boy can dream.