Like all authors without exception, whenever I visit a new town I like to go to the local comic shop and see how prominently they have displayed my very important publications (this varies from “right by the door” to “one book with its cover half hanging off” so it’s a real rollercoaster for the ego, very centring and character building). Most comic shops I visit are great and run by equally great people.
But then there is a special sort of shop where one enters and turns upon the heel after a 15-second lap. Three “lads” behind the till, enjoying hurtful “banter”. I think Tackleford’s “Variant Zone” might have been that sort of shop.
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