Labels: completely abandons the idea of writing lots of labels and goes to bed instead, Magnetic Fields
Labels: a small post that may potentially save you money, ella edmondson, Magnetic Fields
Have you seen the line of footwear supposedly inspired by you?
I've seen it online. I haven't actually obtained it in person. Because...Oh these French people, they haven't sent me anything! If I named an album after their shoe line, I would send them the album.
They haven't sent you a single pair of shoes?
They haven't sent me a single shoelace.
That's despicable.
Yeah. You know, I'm supposed to be honored that they named some shoes—a whole line of shoes—after me, but they don't send me anything? Nuke Europe!
That seems like a great place to stop. Thank you for talking to me...
Sure.
...Unless you care to clarify that latter comment?
Smash the European Union.
Great. Thank you Stephin.
I want my shoes. Destroy the world. Goodbye.
Labels: free book but this time in installments and filmed, Graveyard Book tour, Magnetic Fields, shoes????, Stephin Merritt
Labels: A Walking Tour of the Shambles, American Gods, American Gods Blog, Coraline, Magnetic Fields, sushi
I did a wonderful gig -- two sets -- with the Magnetic Fields. I had a busy day meeting people about the DAY I SWAPPED MY DAD FOR TWO GOLDFISH animated series, and then meeting HarperCollins people and getting to learn all sorts of cool stuff about e-books and soforth...
And in 50 minutes my book is officially published.
You probably won`t get a long and sensible entry here for a few more days, until I stop moving and can think or at least type in peace.
Scott McCloud sent me his Why I`m Not Neil Gaiman cartoon, and it made me laugh very loudly. You get it for free if you donate to his website. And his website is a wonderful thing.
Labels: American Gods, American Gods Blog, computers and gadgets and things, lightweight computers, Magnetic Fields, Scott McCloud, The Day I Swapped My Dad For Two Goldfish, tour
There's a story on Inside.com about the Magnetic Fields gig on Sunday -- I've put a pile of stuff onto the Libretto. Now I need to print out everything I might want to read on Sunday night -- there are two different sets, and I'm very tempted to do two completely different readings.
Labels: American Gods Blog, Magnetic Fields, tour
On the advice of Terry Pratchett, who is a wise road warrior and is the only person I know who has signed for more people, and in more countries, than me, and seeing it's going to be six weeks of living out of hand-luggage (for there may not be time to check luggage, and I can't risk losing all my socks and black tee shirts to the whims of Northwest Airlines), I decided to buy a Toshiba Libretto, for the road.
(That's a very small, full-featured notebook computer that weighs next to nothing, for the non-technically minded among us.)
I take Terry's advice on things like this. He's always right. I still have, and still (once in a blue moon) use, the Atari Portfolio he talked me into buying about 11 years ago. It runs on a cut-down DOS 2.1 -- I wrote MURDER MYSTERIES on it and THE GOLDFISH POOL & OTHER STORIES and more episodes of Sandman than I can count -- and I'd use it more except I feel faintly ashamed of being seen using such antedeluvian technology when in the company of all the cool geek people I know. They have transparent plastic things that are violently green at you, and which take photographs, order take-out, check for the nearest good sushi restaurant, download basketball scores and double as mobile phones, all at the same time. My Portfolio is only good for writing stuff and storing addresses and phone numbers. Which is all I ever use it for, not having much interest in basketball, and being a writer. I think I once managed to prove it was possible to get e-mail on it some time in 1992, and never tried again....
Sorry. Got a bit nostalgic there for a second.
So. Flash new Toshiba Libretto. It's not a palmtop, it's a subcompact notebook, which seemed closer to what I wanted. I checked the web...
They don't retail them anywhere but Japan any more. But there's a company that imports them. And the new Libretto L1 has just been released. Like, a few days ago.
I sent an e-mail to the sales guy at the company yesterday and asked if they could get me one before I left on tour. His e-mail arrived today. Absolutely. Just call and order and they'd overnight it to me.
It seemed so simple. I was thrilled. I called immediately...
Someone answered the phone.
I started to order a Libretto L1, using a corporate credit card.
If you write for Hollywood, you become a corporation whose sole asset is you and whose function consists of lending you out. (Honest. You think I could make that up?) Mine is called The Blank Corporation, because I went blank when they asked me what name I wanted it to be when they were filling in the corporate paperwork. I think the company logo is a blank sheet of paper, roughly 8" by 11". So there is a Blank Corporation credit card that I never use, and I thought, finally, I can buy something that's an honest to goodness business expense with the card.
I gave the guy on the other end of the phone the credit card number. He said they could only send it to the Card billing address. I said ow, that wasn't going to work, as that address was in LA, and I'm not, and getting the people who run the corporation in LA to authorise things might take a couple of days -- I wasn't even sure if I knew how to talk to the card issuers.... Still, not to worry. Plan B seemed straightforward enough. I put the card away (still, I think, unused), and pulled out my normal everyday not-corporate-at-all credit card.
Gave him the number of the new card. He asked for the Billing address, and I began "P.O. Box..."
"I'm sorry," he interrupted. "We don't deliver to PO Boxes."
"Not a problem," I said. "I'll give you the house address for FedEx to deliver to..."
"But it's not the billing address?"
"No, the bills go to the PO Box, but FedEx doesn't deliver to PO Boxes, so we get FedEx to deliver to..."
"I'm sorry. We can't do that. We can only send it to the billing address."
"But you've just told me you can't send it to the billing address."
"We don't deliver to PO Boxes."
"So you're saying you can't send me the computer."
"Well, yeah."
"Um. If you don't mind me asking.... Does anyone else in America import Toshiba Librettos?" I figured, if someone else did, I'd call them instead.
"Nope. Just us." He didn't seem perturbed by the question. I guessed he heard it a lot.
"So you're telling me that you won't deliver to PO Boxes, and you can't deliver to the house?"
"Well, how do we know it's your house? You could have stolen a credit card, and this could be a deserted house down the block you want us to deliver to."
"Er, yes, but it's not. It's my house."
"People do it all the time. That's why we only ship to billing addresses."
"Yes, but you won't ship to my billing address, will you? Anyway, you'll have the phone number and the PO Box number. For heaven's sake, I've ordered a thousand things and this is the first time.."
"Hey, this is $3000 of computer equipment you're trying to order! People scam for a lot less than that. You can get phone numbers easy as anything, rent PO Boxes. We don't know this isn't a stolen card."
I thought about pointing out that, for $3000 of computer equipment, I was kind of expecting someone helpful on the other end of the phone. I thought about pointing out that, if it was a brilliant credit card fraud, and the card company approved the transaction, then they won't be out any money. I thought about dusting off the Atari Portfolio and pretending it was a grand retro gesture...
Instead I said "Look, I can't be the first person ever to try and order something who had a PO Box and wanted it shipped to a house address..."
"We can only ship it to a billing address," he said. He had that one down cold. "Or you could do a wire transfer."
I said that that wasn't going to happen. I was getting testy. I've been in the US too long, I suppose -- I'm sort of used to trying to buy goods and services from people who are actively trying to sell them to you. I said there had to be a way for him to sell me a computer and could we please resolve this...
There was a long pause. And then he said, doubtfully, "I guess we could send it by the postal service. They deliver to Post office boxes, don't they?"
I assured him that they did.
And he said, yes, they could do that, he guessed. They couldn't overnight it, but I'd get it by friday, with the US postal service. I said I hoped so. He took the details, said they'd fax me a bill for me to sign and send back to them.
The fax, when it arrived, included a charge for Fedexing the package. I carefully wrote on it "If sending by Fedex please deliver to ... " and the house address, before I faxed it back, not because I was trying to be clever, but because I had a sudden presentiment of the people at the company finding themselves suddenly and unexpectedly unable to get me a little computer, "because Fedex doesn't deliver to PO Boxes".
So I leave on tour in six days. Off to do the Magnetic Fields gigs and then to start signing my way across the States, the UK and Canada. With luck, I'll be keeping up this journal, typing on planes and in cars, and posting it from hotel room phone lines.
Labels: American Gods Blog, Best Of, computers and gadgets and things, lightweight computers, Magnetic Fields, Terry Pratchett, the blank corporation, tour
Got up this morning in a fine mood and wrote a 2,000 word blogger entry in this here journal. It was long, informative, useful and funny. I even wrote an impromptu essay on how to pronounce "Gaiman". I recommended books. I philosophised. It was one of the great Blogger entries.
I set it to post and publish and walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat. Then, like a character in a bad french farce, my daughter Holly (16 in three weeks) walked in to the office, carefully closed the on-screen window with the journal in it (but none of the other windows) -- before it had even posted, let alone published, the entry I'd just written -- and got offline. Then she wandered off, probably vaguely happy to have done something useful.
I ate, cheerfully, crossed the hall to the office, sat down at the computer, saw what had happened, and started to express my feelings.
"You shouldn't say things like that," said Holly, wandering back. "It sets a bad example."
Sigh.
Then we went and watched Mike graduate from High School. Very proud, even if I find something really weird about the spectacle of 17 year olds in caps and gowns. ("Well, you're English," said My Wife. "It's one of those things they don't have there.")
I'm going to have to repost all the useful stuff. The rest of it is going to have to wait until I have some time...
So...
One of the essays I did for online places has gone up. It's at http://go.borders.com/features/neilgaiman.xcv
The most immediate note: From the Bottom Line Club website:
SUN
JUNE 17 MAGNETIC FIELDS
Also Appearing:
Author NEIL GAIMAN
Reading From His New Book: American Gods
**General admission tickets for both shows have been sold out. You can still purchase standing room only tickets for the shows right before showtime.**
Doors Open 6PM for 7:30 Show/10PM for 10:30 Show All Seats
$20.00
Labels: American Gods Blog, Holly, Magnetic Fields, Mike
So next week I get my photograph taken for Entertainment Weekly. It looks a lot like it will happen at the House on the Rock, after hours, so I may, like my characters, get to ride The World’s Largest Carousel.
Which, whatever happens or doesn’t happen will probably be more fun, or at least, significantly less smoky, than the author photograph session for American Gods, last December.
Now, every now and again I do something really stupid.
For example, when I started writing American Gods, I swore a mighty oath that I’d not cut my hair or shave my beard until I finished it. By March 2000 I was starting to look like a hassidic terrorist, and somewhere in there I said “Sod it,” and shaved off the beard.
But the hair kept growing. I wasn’t going to get a haircut until I’d finished writing American Gods.
When I tell people about this, they look at me as if I’m really weird, except for the Norwegians who tell me about one of their early kings who didn’t shave or cut his hair until he’d united Norway.( And he didn’t wash either. At least I still bathed.) So the Norwegians don’t think I’m weird.
Anyway, my hair grew and grew (it does that, and whenever I’m tempted to grumble I remember all the people of my generation who would be only too pleased to have hair that grows too fast, or any kind of hair really), and finally it was last October and people who didn’t know me were making Howard Stern jokes when they passed me in the street. And I was going to go on a Comic Book Legal Defense Fund Reading Tour...
So I finished the book. In first draft, anyway. And I went and visited Wendy at Hair Police in Minneapolis, and got my first haircut in 18 months; and then I went off on the CBLDF reading tour and raised many tens of thousands for freedom of speech, and this was a good thing. (Somewhere in there I talked Chris Oarr from the defense fund out of auctioning off my cut-off hair for charity.)
(You know, this would be much more fun if I could illustrate it with photos. Maybe when we put up the neilgaiman.com site I will.)
So I had short hair and nobody made Howard Stern jokes any more.
Now, author photos are weird things. For example, take the Good Omens photo session, in 1989, where Terry Pratchett and I were taken to a graveyard on the coldest day of the year. The expressions on our faces – variously described as brooding, intelligent, and mysterious, and by the Times of London no less, as sinister – are simply cold. (I was relatively okay. I had a leather jacket on. Terry wore an extremely lightweight jacket he’d borrowed from Malcolm Edwards, because the notion of the authors dressed respectively in black and in white. I was black.)
The easiest author photos have been the various Kelli Bickman photos taken over the years, including my favourite, the Smoke and Mirrors back cover photo, with its infinite regression of authors on a TV screen. But Kelli’s taking fewer photos these days, and is concentrating more on her artwork. (She’s MTV Featured Artist currently... you can see some of her artwork at www.kellibickman.net)
The hardest was the one in the UK in 1996 for Wired Magazine. The photo you may have seen from that session is the one of me holding a glowing book. The one you’ve not seen was the one of me, naked and wearing angel wings surrounded by candles. The one that I still remember with loathing was the one that wound up on the cover of Wired: it was me covered in sand. (A visual pun: Sandman. Yes?) And I would like to give a tip for young photographers who may want to attempt this shot.
Do not use builder’s sand. It may be cheap, but it burns the skin.
Trust me on this. I’ve been there. I know.
The American Gods photo session was nowhere near that painful.
I still think I may have messed everything up by having a haircut.
The photographer was a very nice lady named Sigrid Estrada.
(Kelly Notaras, my editor Jennifer Hershey’s right-hand woman took me down there. Jennifer herself, and my literary agent Merrilee Heifetz wandered along during the course of the afternoon.)
Sigrid took one look at me and said “I thought you were going to have longer hair.”
She looked very disappointed.
“No,” I said, apologetically. “I don’t.”
She sighed. She shook her head. I never quite found out why this messed things up as much as it obviously had.
Sigrid had a plan for a photo. The plan involved a lot of smoke. Her assistant held the smoke machine. Kelly Notaras was drafted in to hold a piece of cardboard to waft the smoke. And I stood there while Sigrid shouted “Smoke!” at the assistant holding the smoke machine, and the machine would belch huge gusts of white fog at me, and then she’d call “Waft!” at Kelly and Kelly would wave the paper and try to get the smoke off my face.
And that’s what we did for the next four or five hours. We did it with my leather jacket on. We did it with my leather jacket off. We did it with me standing up. We did it with me sitting down. We did it with me peering coyly from around the side of a huge sheet of paper. And all through this, the smoke was belched, and then the smoke was wafted. (Jennifer did some fine smoke wafting, too.)
Merrilee exerted an agent’s traditional prerogative and ran up between smoke belches and tried to tame the hair on my forehead. It didn’t tame, but she did her best.
And I began to understand what a kipper must feel like, at the precise moment it stops just being a herring, and realises that it has been smoked. For me that moment occurred at the point where Sigrid decided that it might be more... more whatever she was going for... if the smoke was splurted directly at my head, rather than just generally belched out around waist level.
I’d hold my breath and smile and be told that I shouldn’t smile, not for the kind of photo that Sigrid had in mind. So I’d stop smiling, and the smoke would splurt and Kelly or Jennifer would waft it and Sigrid would click away.
Days would pass before the taste of the smoke machine finally left the back of my throat. Still, it could have been much worse. There was no builder’s sand involved, nor was I being warned not to get too close to the candles or my wings would go up like tinder and burn my bare skin.
So a few weeks passed, and one day the contact sheets arrived. Lots and lots of photos of me. And smoke.
My son took one look at the contact sheet and said “Was your head on fire?”
“No,” I said.
“It just looked like it was, that was all.”
And he was right. All the smoke being let off at head level had managed to create a set of photos in which it was perfectly obvious that my head was indeed on fire.
Claudia Gonson (of the Magnetic Fields) was staying with us over Christmas. I showed her the contact sheet.
“They make you look like your head’s on fire,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “It’s a special effect.”
“And all the ones of you not wearing the leather jacket make you look like David Copperfield.”
“Yes. That’s a special effect too.”
“You don’t want to look like David Copperfield, do you?”
“No, thank you. Let’s stick with the ones with me with a jacket on.”
We picked one black and white photo, and one colour picture. The best thing about the black and white photo was the smoke in the background, which, far from looking like my head (or indeed any part of me) was on fire, looked instead like a mysterious sort of background, which might be clouds or mountains or, well, anything really.
(You can see one at http://www.codysbooks.com/index.jsp, while the figure of me from that picture, much photoshopped, is up on the front page of this website.)
I think they’re pretty good photos. I still feel vaguely guilty about getting the haircut, though. I just wonder what Ingrid could have done, if my hair had been longer. And whether whatever it was would have required quite so much smoke.
............................
Labels: American Gods, American Gods Blog, author photos, beards, Best Of, CBLDF, Hair, Kelli Bickman photographs, Magnetic Fields, Wired
Oh, and it looks like the 17th of June I'll be doing a reading, along with the Magnetic Fields (who will be making music, not reading) at the Bottom Line in New York. More details as they become available (including where you call for tickets).
I'm not sure how often authors and bands do gigs together out there, but it seems like something that should happen more often. I mean, I'd love to see Hubert Selby supporting Lou Reed... (And I did once see Nico supporting John Cooper Clarke.)
Labels: American Gods Blog, Greg Brown, Magnetic Fields, quotes
Went to England for four days. Heard some wonderful music. Came back. Spent a day at home (a whole day!) and then flew to LA where I am to be Master of Ceremonies at the Nebula Award banquet Saturday night.
I’ll be doing a signing Saturday 28th of April (tomorrow, or later today, depending on when you read this) (unless you read this after Saturday, of course), at the LA book fair at UCLA at 1:00pm, at the Dangerous Visions/SFWA area. Come and say hullo if you’re in the area.
Lots of interesting things happening – the permissions were all gathered in in a manic last-minute flurry which owed an awful lot to Kelly Notaras at Harper Collins US; the Canadian signings seem to have edged earlier and the UK signings have continued later and I’m not sure at this point I get a single day off (excluding transatlantic travel days) between June 18th and July 20th; I may be doing a reading in tandem with a Magnetic Fields concert in June in New York; various interesting media things happening – lots of magazines and periodicals doing reviews and features on the book.
And I am not writing about any of these things because, with the writers strike looming, I am madly trying to finish writing some additional material for a very cool Polish/Japanese film called AVALON, so am spending all my time in my hotel room playing and replaying the video of the film and making notes and writing bits.
Labels: American Gods Blog, Avalon, Magnetic Fields, Nebula Awards, signings, writer's strike