I grew up reading graphic novels. Except they were called comics back then and despite the fact that for me they were always in French, it still annoyed my mother who thought that literature was only that which had no pictures.
But I remained loyal to my heros Tintin, and Asterix, and happily spent my summers at the cabin absorbing countless short graphic novels of adventure.
I was so happy to find that one short block away from my little Montréal home was a book store/publisher dedicated to the graphic novel. It even has books with no pictures in them, but I still like the ‘comics’ best.
Although I can’t afford to buy everything in the store, it is where I shop for gifts and where I like to spend an hour on the way home from a café.
I will miss browsing your many books, Drawn and Quarterly.