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FANCY A JOB AS AN APPRENTICE COMPOSITOR*? (*a snotty-nosed subclass of the primitive species Homo erectus) A tongue-in-cheek autobiography of an apprentice compositor learning his trade in London’s Old Covent Garden during the so-called swinging ‘Sixties, when youth culture was, for the first time, finding an identity in a post-war Britain.
Chapters include:
The composer (music critics need not apply).
Trots and trotting (Deli belly? Worse than that!).
A wet lunch (bring your own blotting paper).
Tickets, please! (I’m an apprentice, inspector - we’re exempt).
A suspected criminal for a day (it wasn’t me guv'nor, honest).
Soho! (the cultural quarter of London).
Swearing (and other terms of endearment).
For this is,
A GUFFAW OF RIB-TICKLING TALES, ANECDOTES AND STORIES GUARANTEED TO SPLIT YOUR SIDES LAUGHING! And one, with a CLICK, that will educate the reader in the finer points of robbing The London Underground blind, before getting caught.What kind of reader would enjoy your book? Not necessarily one that has an interest in the printing industry. Although they might have. No, it would be a person that has an interest in nostalgia for a world that is no longer there. Just a memory. A reader that enjoys humour, with hopefully, occasional overtones of thought provoking seriousness that will bring him or her away from the page for a moment to reflect. Bring a nod of affirmity, a tear to the eye perhaps, as they reflect on their own experiences of life and family.
