… so I just finished reading through the last volume of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman. Em did me a great favor by passing these books my way, so to her a heartfelt thanks.

There’s a lot to say, and I don’t want to say it - don’t want to give anything away. For anyone who hasn’t read it yet, go out and read it - buy them. They’re steep, but absolutely one hundred percent worth it.

Okay … I give, just a few words. The final Sandman story details a series of meetings between William Shakespeare and Dream, and at their last encounter, Dream says, “I am Prince of Stories, Will; but I have no story of my own. Nor shall I ever.” That was a nice touch, and the sort of cleverness that made the whole series of stories such a delight to read. Finishing off the whole thing, though, makes you think a little: people are immortalised through stories, and it is good to be remembered, to have your name printed in textbooks and brought up during hour-long documentaries on the history channel.

Personally? Personally … even if my name disappears the day I die, if my stories are remembered then that’s enough.

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