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Back when I started making comics there seemed to be a preponderance of a certain pub based bore, who would tell you with a beatific air of certainty what a waste of time it was printing comics, or indeed any book because from now on all books would be read on mobile phones or on myspace which was the future.

These days no one really listens to these people except for everyone in the publishing industry, who heed these words like children being told a ghost story.

And it’s a good thing too because without printed pages future readers wouldn’t be able to enjoy one of the most miraculous of all bookish experiences, namely finding stuff in between the pages of books.

 

Take for example my copy of Oscar Wilde’s plays. The first three pages have pencil sketches dated 29/4/43 Newcastle of soldiers going to, or returning from somewhere or other and looking very exhausted and intense (except for the pipe smoking chap who looks rather pleased about something}.

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books sin1

 

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Leaping forward in time 30 years this rather elaborate receipt from a shoe shop slipped out of a copy of Somerset Maugham’s Short Stories where it had lain midway through The Three Fat Women of Antibes for 40 years.

 

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Lastly this tram ticket that spent World War Two, the Moon Landing and the entire Lord of The Rings Trilogy (plus the first Hobbit movie} lovingly grasped between the pages of a chapter entitled ‘What Mankind Has To Do’ in this 1933 edition of H G Wells’ ‘The Open Conspiracy’ before being found by me.

 

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