Pages and Pages...

Somewhere in there is a book...

I did actually try writing the numbers of the 96 page-spreads onto paper slips, shaking them up in a bag, and drawing them out at random like a lottery [1], but the aleatory gods were not with me that day, and the result was thoroughly, um, random, as the young folk like to say. So, in the end, there's no real choice other than to do the hard work of staring at them until they start to speak to each other. This may take some time.

There's definitely a book in there, though. But, like the book that idiots insist lurks inside everyone, unwritten, the real question is: is it a good one?

1. I can't have been the only child watching Saturday evening TV in the 1960s to ask, quite sincerely, "Dad, where is Random? And why do they always go there to draw the football pools winners an' that?" OTOH, I may have been alone in wasting most of an A-Level geography class (to the annoyance of some, and the delight of others) arguing, moderately sincerely, that to assign a numeric value to a "random distribution" was to ignore the very meaning of the word "random". Yep, there's one in every class, and I was it.