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There’s fun little book I read once, where beneath the city of Bookholm, a race of little green critters live in thousand-mile catacombs made of books. They consume books for sustenance: too many mass market mysteries and horrors make them plump, and a good old biology textbook, though it doesn’t taste so great, is full of healthy nutrients.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is that I’m pretty sure I was one of these little green blobs in a past life. If you were too, then perhaps you’d like to read my blog.

The book by the way, is “The City of Dreaming Books” by Walter Moers, and I recommend that all books lovers give it a go.

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