Short version, I'm doing a signing at Comix Experience on on Sunday, July 19th from 11 AM to 12:30 PM. And because time is limited, it's limited to 100 people. Brian Hibbs decided that the easiest way to pick the 100 people was to presell them copies of the WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE CAPED CRUSADER hardback, which will be out then.
Preorders for the book can be taken immediately by visiting Comix Experience at 305 Divisadero St. (at Page) in San Francisco, or by calling 415-863-9258 from 11-7 Monday-to-Saturday, Sundays 12-5, PST.
I went to Los Angeles, had a sort of a working holiday, came home, and am writing. Working out a lot with the trainer, got a new trampoline. The cherry tree is covered in cherries, and the wild raspberries (red and black) are out in the woods, and I find them when I walk the dog.
Nights here are filled with fireflies. Steve Brust came over for dinner tonight and brought his puppy, and we talked about stories and writing until late. It's a good world.
That's about it for excitement at this end. Lots of people have written in asking stuff about me and Amanda, and I don't really know how to answer them. Either they're really nice and pleased for us and encouraging and don't need answering, or they're the kind of things that leave me deeply puzzled, and to which the only responses are "Isn't that a bit personal?" or "Probably none of your business I'm afraid," or even "Why would you write things like that?"
Hello Neil,
Why don't you blog more often?
Just a death wish I guess. Your blog is a wonderful thing to read.
I have a rare case of skin cancer and your blog cheer me up!
Mostly because I have less to say right now, I think. Or at least, I hate repeating myself. The blog's eight years old, and over one million three hundred thousand words long. That's a lot of blogging: a lot of ideas, a lot of words, a lot of answers. People write to me with questions still, but much of the time they're questions that have already been answered on the blog, usually at some length -- the kind of things that make me think that I should spend the time I could spend writing again (say) how you get an agent into, instead, organising things and getting a really useful FAQ up and running, or just a way of finding things, particularly advice on writing.
Todd Klein, letterer extraordinaire has the fourth in his series of prints out. The art is by J. H. Williams III, and you can see it here.
Back in November I was interviewed by Chip Kidd at the 92nd St Y. (I talked about it on the blog at the time.) The whole talk, with Karen Berger's introduction and all, is up now on YouTube, and is embedded here for your pleasure. It's an hour and a half.
And finally, there are now more than 666,666 people following me on Twitter. So we had a party. It's still ongoing, the party, over at http://bit.ly/666party and to join in all you have to do is upload a photgraph of you and a Balloon. And once 600 people showed up at the party, the webgoblin made this: a mosaic. Edit to add, and here's a wonderful click to zoom in, shift-click to zoom out version at http://www.uslot.com/neilballoons/
Arrived in LAX airport to find that the NorthWest lounge is closed for renovations, and cannot use the lounge or the Wifi. And the airport Tmobile Wifo connection is slow -- it's taken it ten minutes to give me a Blogger screen.
So I will keep this one very short. The Graveyard Book won the Locus Award for Best YA Novel this year. I wrote a speech for my Editor Jennifer Brehl (who was there) to deliver, and I thought I'd put it up here:
You have good years, and you have bad years. I'm having a really good year right now. The Graveyard Book won the Newbery Medal, which made me happy, and it has now won the Locus Award which makes me equally happy, in a completely different way. It's one thing to get approved of by the world out there, it's another thing to get approval from your family, and the vastness of Locus Readers and voters, comprising as it does SF and Fantasy readers and writers, editors and artists, is a family, even if it can be a quarrelsome and incestuous one, and its approval means something special. I suspect that I may be the luckiest boy in the world, and would not want you to think for one moment that I am not grateful or aware of this. The Graveyard Book took me a very long time to write, and I want to thank my son, Michael, who inspired it; my agent, Merrilee Heifetz, who supported me, my editors, Elise Howard and Sarah Odedina; my illustrators, Dave McKean and Chris Riddell; and the people at Harper Collins and Bloomsbury, who have worked so hard to make sure that people read it.
And then run for the plane. (Also, congratulations to P Craig Russell, who got a Locus Award for his beautiful graphic novel version of Coraline).
So twenty-four years ago today, Holly Gaiman turned up in my life. At that point she didn't even have a name: we had thought she was going to be a Gemma, but she didn't look like a Gemma, so Mary and I went back to the drawing board, or rather the baby names book, and decided independently that Holly was the name we both liked. Her middle name is Miranda because I wanted her to have a bigger, posher name in case she needed one. She hasn't needed it yet, but you never know.
I miss her. She lives in London, now. I don't see her as much as I'd like, and I speak to her most days only because she's really good about phoning me.
She's my daughter, and I love her. That goes without saying. She has the most amazing smile in the world, a will of iron, a huge heart, and is, I'm proud to say, one of my very best friends in the whole world. That stuff is all a marvellous bonus.
I love you, Holly Miranda Gaiman. Happy Birthday.
(I'm in California now, and it's still her birthday here, but it's finished in London, and she'll be asleep by now, and I haven't spoken to her yet today. Sigh. Love you so much, girl.)
Three years ago a bear showed up here. The first hint we had of its arrival was the metal birdfeeder poles beng bent and the emptying of said birdfeeders. So we took down the birdfeeders and, after a few months, the bear went away.
Last year Hans, who does useful things in the woods like building bridges and removing fallen trees, put up an electric fence around the bee hives, on the theory that it was just a matter of time until a bear returned; we had been told by local beekeepers that an electric fence would keep a bear out in the first place, but that if the bear had discovered an unprotected hive and raided it once, the bear would go through an electric fence to get back to it.
Yesterday, Hans told me, a black bear turned up: wandered out of the woods, was barked at by the dogs (Cabal and his playdate), and retreated.
I was on my way out -- I went into KNOW in Minneapolis to do some interviews for a Morning Edition Special I'm doing on Audio Books and then on to DreamHaven to sign several mountains of books for Greg. (A photo of about 3/4 of the book mountain.) -- and got home by firefly-filled dusk in time to walk the dog.
Walk. The dog. At night. By the woods. Right.
I didn't have a dog the last time there was a bear around.
Mostly I was just sensible -- didn't go through the woods that the bear had wandered out of, made enough noise and carried a light -- but I noticed that Cabal was behaving differently: sticking close to me, either protective or nervous, not nosing off after adventures as he usually does if we're out together in the evening.
I hope the bear simply moves on, leaving the hives unmolested. The last one left, after all.
...
Am now at airport. For the next few days other people will have to decide how to walk the dog through night-woods inhabited by the ghosts of a thousand imaginary bears.
The Edinburgh Literary Festival tickets went on sale this morning, and the event on the 20th of August, the conversation between Ian Rankin and me, is now sold out. So I thought I should post a reminder here to let people know there are still tickets available for the All Ages solo event (just me, reading from The Graveyard Book, talking about it, and writing, and comics as well) on the 19th, from 4.30 to 5.30 pm.
A photo from 1993's World Fantasy Convention in Minneapolis, taken by Beth Gwinn (a terrific photographer - this is her website: http://www.bethgwinn.com). Four out of five of the Guests of Honour (I was Toastmaster) Basil Copper, me, Roger Zelazny and the late Poul Anderson. (John Crowley is not there.) I am wearing a morning suit I wore that day, and wore 15 years later for John M. (Mike) Ford's memorial service, and only those two times, because really, I don't go to that many things that need morning suits. I think my father had picked it up for me incredibly cheaply, and was so proud of himself for so doing that I resolved actually to wear it and let him know I had, but he never actually asked.
And today, by coincidence, also brought Steve Brust for lunch, so I showed him the books. We sat and read each other's introductions and shared memories of Roger.
Talking about good photographers:
Apparently there's an LJ advisory board.
Apparently people are elected to it via vote by LJ users.
Apparently this one pretty nifty dude who takes great photographs, @kylecassidy, is running.
So, if you feel like clicking around to his post about it or the actual post for voting, here are links:
Consider it plugged. Although it doesn't look like Kyle needs any help from me.
Greetings Neil, I'm a big fan of yours (and now that I'm 5 months into my pregnancy, a slightly bigger fan every day). Since we found out "It's A Girl!" I had really hoped to order a signed copy of Blueberry Girl off of the NeilGaiman.net site and start reading it to her before she got here but after weeks of visiting and finding the site temporarily closed I am starting to wonder if I should give up and buy a copy elsewhere and hope that you will be doing a signing in my area (which is extremely rare) sometime in the distant future. Any idea if the site will be returning in the nearer future? Thank you, Victoria
I'll be popping into DreamHaven over the next few days to sign a lot of books for Greg. It's surprising that he had to shut down the whole site in order to tell people he wasn't taking orders for signed books right now, but I guess its harder for him since DreamHaven became a one man operation.
Hi Neil,
Just reading your latest blog entry in which someone complained about your use of "British Isles", and went on to talk about how Ireland is not part of the British Isles anymore, and there was perhaps a mention of vikings, too.
I would just like to apologise on behalf of Ireland for this pointless correction. Of course, Ireland is not part of Great Britain, but as the British Isles are a geographical name for both Ireland and the UK, I highly doubt Ireland will be renouncing itself as being among them anytime soon - as doing so would involve actually moving to a different place on Earth.
I would also like to apologise for wasting your time with *this* comment, but I felt quite strongly about it.
Thank you. Actually, I liked learning that there are people who consider the term insulting. I don't think you should ever insult people unintentionally: if you're doing it, you ought to mean it.
(Apparently the term "Irish Sea" is offensive to the Welsh, who are completely surrounded by it. Edit to add, if you don't count things like England and the Bristol Channel. Which most of my Welsh friends don't.)
...
Over the years I have said good things on this blog about New Orleans Chef Chris DeBarr -- Chris was named “Best New Chef” by New Orleans magazine in 2006 for his work at the Delachaise. I first met Chris in about 1991 at a Dragoncon: he's married to author Poppy Z Brite and Poppy was too nervous to talk to me that first time for reasons I've never been able to figure out, so I chatted to Chris. I didn't know how good a cook he was until Poppy took me to the Delachaise, where he used to be chef, and the food was amazing -- and Chris was everything: chef, server, food advisor, the whole thing. I wrote about it here on the blog ("Why I Am Not A Restaurant Critic"), and took pleasure in letters from people who had amazing meals there writing to let me know.
Chris left the Delachaise and recently opened his own restaurant, The Green Goddess, at 307 Exchange Alley in the heart of the French Quarter. This is Chris's LiveJournal. (He's currently waiting for a liquor license.) It's a Vegetarian-friendly restaurant. (Having once been in New Orleans with a vegetarian, I know these are few and can be hard to find.)
I was chatting to Chris about sending people from this website to the restaurant, and suggested that some kind of password might get people something nice and special they might not otherwise get from him. He said, remembering the Sandman book Brief Lives, that people should casually mention "the Mezze of Destruction" to their server, and something good and special will happen for them to eat or drink. Think of it as a restaurant Easter Egg.
Two of my children have grown up and gone away, and I have one left at home (here seen piloting her invisible plane, in a photo by Kyle Cassidy). And it's Father's Day, which seems like the best time to mention how much I enjoy, and appreciate, being a father. I've learned more from being a father than from anything else I've done, any books I've read, anything I've studied, anyone I've spoken to. It's a good thing being a father, if you enjoy it, which I do. So this is where I say thank you to Mike and to Holly and to Mads, for teaching me so much. And for being smart and loving and funny.
Last night Maddy told me she has Planned Things for today. I do not know what these things are. She and her friends have not yet woken from their sleepover. Last night I used them as guinea pigs to test out some BPAL prototype scents Beth had sent in my direction. Last year's Snow Glass Apples scent and booklet was a huge success when it was released at Comic-con, both as a scent and as a snapped-up CBLDF benefit unique thing (here's a CBLDF link to what appears to be the last few copies/bottles in the world). This year's scent is remarkable. I forgot it was meant to be a secret, and cheerfully unbagged the cat on Twitter, but will be slightly more circumspect here and say only that it is a scent that will accompany a short story that appears in Fragile Things and M is Magic, concerning the eating of things.
(Beth, Goddess of BPAL, sent me three different versions of the scent in question, and let me choose. I picked the version with Raisins and Smoke, but without Beer. For some reason the beer made it smell like coconuts, when applied to skin. Everything Beth does is alchemy and magic as far as I am concerned.)
Over on CBC's Definitely Not the Opera, the wonderful Sook-Yin Lee interviewed me about being a father and being a son, and that's now up in their Father's Day special. (It's a really good interview, much of it stuff I don't recall being asked in interviews before. It starts about 55 minutes in, and ignore the awkward link-edit at the beginning that makes it sound like I'm saying that my small son and I were newlyweds.) The MP3 file is at http://podcast.cbc.ca/mp3/dnto_20090620_17235.mp3
This writer has a list of "Five Things Someone Else Should Do."
(Sorry about the awkward link). Among them is "Ideas in Abundance," taking Madoc's outpouring of ideas in "Calliope" and actually writing stories around them. Have you ever considered authorizing such an anthology?
The writer in question is the remarkably brilliant China Mieville, who is smart and prolific and a nice guy to boot.
And no, I don't think I could officially authorise such an anthology (given that the Sandman is owned by DC Comics.) If someone did it, however, on the web or on paper, I would be delighted.
Hi again I was looking at my new-from-Amazon Crazy Hair book (pretty pictures, lovely rhymes), when something seemed a bit odd. Did you change the second line? I remember you reading it three years ago, and I remember something like "I am thirty, Bonnie's three". Now I see it's "We were standing silently" or something like that. Just out of curiosity, am I right, and why did you change it?
ET
I changed it because, when Dave had finished the illustrations (and it took him many years to do Crazy Hair), Bonnie really did not look like she was three. Not even a little bit. And it seemed much easier, and quicker, for me to change the line than to ask Dave to repaint every page.
Hi Neil, "The native dragons of the British Isles" The term British Isles is a bit of a sore point. I'm an Irish fan of yours. The term British Isles suggests Ireland as part of the Isles. We are no longer part of Britain and up to the point of the vikings you mentioned we were not part of Britain either. I know it might seem like a silly point to you but the term still strokes a lot of old wounds with people here. And I know it was not intentional, so I thought I would clarify for the future.
I hope the writing is flowing and all is well in your world,
Declan
Ah, there. I managed to give offense while just trying to figure out a way of talking about the places that these stamps were sold. If it's any comfort, I wasn't thinking about Ireland while writing that sentence. (And just read the Wikipedia discussion with fascination.)
Hi Neil -
you may want to let your readers know that in addition to the presentation pack you can also purchase postcards of the stamp designs - which will be absolutely perfect for filling the conspicuous Neil Gaiman bumpersticker void. (Seriously, please tell the Neverwear people to get some bumperstickers up - the 'How to talk to girls at parties' art or the 'lil Sandman would be fabulous... If I were creative enough, I'd make a black & white bumpersticker w/the silhouettes of the Endless on it, but alas - my skills are lacking.)
I just ordered both from the US with no problems, btw.
I have a question concerning characters. Most of the writers I respect seem to create autonomous characters inside their own mind. This process sounds mad and delightful and impossible, at the moment.
I feel that my characters are glaring flaws in my stories. I want them to feel real and sovereign to my whims, instead of contrivances.
If you have any time to bestow some advice, I would greatly appreciate it. Just a revelatory aphorism or two.
Also, thank you for so many wonderful stories. Your stuff is guiltless pleasure reading.
Sincerely, Dan Kelly
When I was a young writer I would come up with stories, and then put characters into them. And each of the characters would often feel like, in Thurber's words, "a mere device".
I think the breakthrough for me came when I started writing comics -- because I believed in them. Because sometimes I would be using characters I hadn't created, but simply cared about. And over the next few years I learned that if you cared enough about your characters, what happened to them was interesting.
I'm not sure that's much of an aphorism, but it's important to care about them, about who they are and what they do. And (for me) for them to be people I would want to spend time with -- I don't really care whose side they are on, and they can be monstrous on the outside or, worse, on the inside, but you still have to want to spend time with them. If you met one of these characters socially would you talk to them, or make an excuse and flee?
(As a sidenote, I think the years I spent as a journalist doing interviews for magazines really helped as well. I learned a lot about speech patterns, and ways of describing people, and letting their words describe them. But more importantly, I learned that if you are actually interested, and not faking it, people will tell you anything, and you will take pleasure in their company. So my suggestion for any young writer is, talk to people, especially people you would normally avoid talking to. Find out their stories. Figure out how you would put them into stories, if you would, or just describe them with a few words.)
Hello Mr. Gaiman,
My question, or requested suggestion, is how to properly utilize personal tragedy to fuel writing. For reasons that do not bear explanation, someone that was unhealthily important to me has left, and I have continually tried to use it as inspiration, but it's having quite the contrary effect.
I have the kind of free time any writer would dream about, but none if it is productive, and I would like it to be.
So, again, any words of wisdom would be very appreciated. And if not, I understand given your busy schedule.
Thank you either way.
I don't think immediate tragedy is a very good source of art. It can be, but too often it's raw and painful and un-dealt-with. Sometimes art can be a really good escape from the intolerable, and a good place to go when things are bad, but that doesn't mean you have to write directly about the bad thing; sometimes you need to let time pass, and allow the thing that hurts to get covered with layers, and then you take it out, like a pearl, and you make art out of it.
When my father died, on the plane from his funeral in the UK back to New York, still in shock, I got out my notebook and wrote a script. It was a good place to go, the place that script was, and I went there so deeply and so far that when we landed Maddy had to tap me on the arm to remind me that I had to get off the plane now. (She says I looked up at her, puzzled, and said "But I want to find out what happens next.") It was where I went and what I did to cope, and I was amazed, some weeks later when I pulled out that notebook to start typing, to find that I'd written pretty much the entire script in that six hour journey.
So my suggestion is, stop trying to use it and do something else. (Which sounds a bit dim and simple when I put it like that. "Doctor. It hurts when I do this. What should I do?' "Stop doing this." But you know what I mean.)
Right. Girls are stirring in rooms above. I shall make them pancakes with sliced strawberries in them.*
*When I am king I shall make out of season non-local strawberries illegal. They don't taste like strawberries. Every year in June I have to remind myself that actually, I like these things, and that sun-warmed strawberries fresh-picked in season are one of the heavenly delights of the world. It's those big red faintly starberry-flavoured things called strawberries that turn up the rest of the year I dislike.
I know there are lots of things I should be blogging about, like the Oracular Orb Android App and being taken kayaking by my trainer and the poor bee who got stuck in my hair, and the strangeness of spending days with a New Yorker writer, and potato salad recipes, but they can all wait.
I took the dog out for a walk tonight, and together we wandered across the meadow next door. It was a warm summer's night, dark, and moonless. There were a handful of fireflies flickering intermittently, some so close to me I could see they were burning green as they flew, and some further away, who seemed to be flashing white.
And in the sky above them a continual roil of distant summer lightning (the storm distant enough that it was silent) burned and flashed and illuminated the clouds. It seemed as if the lightning bugs were talking to the lightning, in a perfect call and response of flash and counterflash. I watched the sky and the meadow flash and flash while the dog walked ahead of me, and realised that I was perfectly happy...
(And before anyone from the West Country grumbles, it was piskies not pixies in my original draft.)
There's also a delightfully dim blog over at the Telegraph from someone who read, but seemed to miss the point of, my Mab story. (And to have also failed to notice that a 500 year old tradition is, well, by now, a tradition.) (But for whatever it's worth, as the person blogging dimly is the Obituaries editor, I do love the Daily Telegraph Obituaries.)
And I noticed this morning Dave McKean grumbled that he didn't say the innocuous things the BBC attribute to him in this one.
...
And these two follow up from the Wisconsin would-be librarybookburners who feel that the existence of Francesa Lia Block books threatens their health and safety...
Hi Neil,
Just wanted to thank you for bringing attention to the latest censorship situation at the West Bend Community Library. I'm not sure if you (and your readers) are aware, but the librarians in West Bend have been dealing with a similar issue for the last several months, regarding a request for the removal of some - for lack of a better way to put it - not-anti-gay material in the young adult section of the library. Two weeks ago, the issue was finally resolved in favor of library policies, leaving the challenged books in the young adult section of the library. (A very brief overview of the ordeal is here: http://www.jsonline.com/news/ozwash/46772872.html ) A victory for sure, but this new challenge suggests that a pocket of the West Bend community is hell-bent on removing homosexual material from the public library - an action which would be a major loss for the community.
Thank you for bringing attention to the issue, for always being a voice against censorship, and for your continued support of librarians in situations like this (I know you know we adore you, but really, you're a hero).
- A Wisconsin librarian
and
Hello Neil, I recently read in your blog about the group of "Christians in Wisconsin" who are taking legal action for the right to burn a book (and payment for the "damages" it did to them).
Speaking as a Christian (and a Wisconsin resident), I am appalled that any Christian would assume they have the right to publicly deface/destroy another's ideas (in this case in the form of literature). Although throughout history all sorts of atrocities have been committed in the name of Christianity, I naively like to think we have learned from that past. There's also a part of me that imagines things like this only happen in some faraway land, but I guess they happen right in your backyard just the same.
Thank you for, in the very least, reminding your readers that there are "sane" Christians (if any of us humans really are sane at all), and not to let one group's actions speak for the whole. Just as the actions of Muslim terrorists should not allow us to judge any Muslim a terrorist, or genocide in Africa shouldn't lead us to deem Africans as savage.
Anyway... I digress. Thank you for bringing attention to this.
You're welcome. Right. Back to work.
Oh, and last night I saw the first firefly of the year last night. So you know, and in case you were wondering.
