I walk into Mag Nation finally as I've been planning on doing so for awhile, hoping to discover a magazine about screenwriting, or writing in any kind of capacity, that I haven't heard of before.
I find the literary section and while they do sell some, they seem to be imports from the states and the UK, which are great, but the localised content in regards to selling your writing and getting it to people would be of little help to me.
I ask the guy at the counter for help, he looks at me with a look of distrust, eyeing me up and down as though he is sure that I am a thief. Perhaps it's my massive bag, or perhaps it's my thieving eyes.
I go upstairs to look at the film and media magazines. That's right. Two stories of magazines with a thousand stories held within. Not that the magazines are packed onto the shelves, but there are still many more here than at an average newsagent.
There's an A4 sign sticky taped to the base of the stairs which reads, 'These stairs are not ideal for slinky, we have tried. Oh, how we've tried.' Oh the whimsy, it's almost too much. Too much whimsy.
I find nothing that I'm after and leave a little disappointed, but half enthused, thinking perhaps there's a niche in the market for what I am looking for but cannot find.
I walk down the street and remember the whimsy. Oh Mag Nation, thou art full of whimsy. read more