Description

'Personal and engaging . . . anyone who agrees that Star Wars was a defining moment of our collective childhood will love this book' - The Times

'Funny and affectionate' - Time Out

'Will have you hitching aboard the Millennium Falcon to a galaxy overflowing with infinite possibilities. ****' - Metro

*************

In 1981, the eight-year-old Bob Fischer was entranced by Daleks, Vogons and crack Imperial Stormtroopers.

Almost three decades later, Bob decides to rekindle the affair with a tour of the UK's sci-fi and cult TV conventions. Freewheeling from Doctor Who to Discworld, Star Wars to Star Trek and Robin of Sherwood to Red Dwarf, he combines misty-eyed memories with a terrifying travelogue of terrible, torturous . . . terror. Or something.

In space, no one can hear you scream. And don't expect much sympathy in Peterborough, either.

Wiffle Lever to Full!

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£10.99

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Paperback / softback by Bob Fischer

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Short Description:

'Personal and engaging . . . anyone who agrees that Star Wars was a defining moment of our collective childhood... Read more

    Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
    Publication Date: 04/10/2018
    ISBN13: 9781473680951, 978-1473680951
    ISBN10: 1473680956

    Number of Pages: 336

    Non Fiction , Biography

    Description

    'Personal and engaging . . . anyone who agrees that Star Wars was a defining moment of our collective childhood will love this book' - The Times

    'Funny and affectionate' - Time Out

    'Will have you hitching aboard the Millennium Falcon to a galaxy overflowing with infinite possibilities. ****' - Metro

    *************

    In 1981, the eight-year-old Bob Fischer was entranced by Daleks, Vogons and crack Imperial Stormtroopers.

    Almost three decades later, Bob decides to rekindle the affair with a tour of the UK's sci-fi and cult TV conventions. Freewheeling from Doctor Who to Discworld, Star Wars to Star Trek and Robin of Sherwood to Red Dwarf, he combines misty-eyed memories with a terrifying travelogue of terrible, torturous . . . terror. Or something.

    In space, no one can hear you scream. And don't expect much sympathy in Peterborough, either.

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