Tag Archives: Fragile Things

This Is A Different Thing All Together

Cover of "Skeleton Crew"

Cover of Skeleton Crew

“A short story is a different thing all together – a short story is like a kiss in the dark from a stranger.”
― Stephen KingSkeleton Crew

This is such a wonderful description of a short story.  I could not resist sharing.  Before I discovered Fragile Things and Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman I didn’t own many short story collections.  Sometimes I would stumble upon really good ones online or I’d pour through collections from college for favorites, or maybe I’d borrow an anthology from a friend.  However, I didn’t seek out short stories the way I do novels.  Well, that is just not going to work anymore

 

Cover of "Fragile Things: Short Fictions ...

Cover via Amazon

These days time is the most valuable commodity, and I don’t know about you, but I always seem to come up a little short.  In the wake of things-that-must-be-done, novels go unread, memoirs lie abandoned, and works of art “in progress” gather dust.  I know, the fault is no one’s but my own.  The to-do list is largely voluntary, and I don’t regret doing any of it.  The opportunity for a great experience is hard to pass by, but it comes at a sacrifice of those things that relax, steady, and recharge me.  Short fiction has become a solution to fill my need to read, learn, and continue to increase my skill as a writer.  So, I’m branching out…again.

 

I’m in the middle of Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles, but I’m almost finished reading it.  I’m going to need a little help to keep me going.  Who do you think writes good short stories?  Any favorite collections?

 

‘Til next time,

 

Jessica

 

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He’s Gone and Done It Again – The Ocean at the End of the Lane

TheOceanattheEndoftheLane_Hardcover_1359996597Neil Gaiman has gone and done it again.  I thought I was finished being impressed with him after I finished Fragile Things.  Apparently, I was wrong…like really, really wrong. The Ocean at the End of the Lane is about growing up, wanting to keep some of that childlike wonder, sacrifice, human nature, friendship and family.  It is about … life.  To begin, there’s a pond that’s really an ocean, a farmhouse where the moon is always full on one side, a very “normal” type of family, and the Hemstocks.

The storytelling, oh my gosh, the storytelling in this book.  You just get drawn in and you don’t want to leave.  (Well actually in some of spectacularly creeptastic parts you REALLY want to leave, but you can’t because you absolutely have to know what’s going to happen because the protagonist is seven….SEVEN, and what seven year old actually does what you expect?)  However you don’t leave, because well, you’re reading Neil Gaiman.  If he has a book that doesn’t leave you, at some point, distinctly unsettled and/or deep in thought about something…well….I haven’t found it yet. (Don’t worry.  I’ll keep reading, just in case.)

Me, I like a good fantasy book, so I’m used to suspending reality, for a while, to live in the world the authors create for me.  Usually, I don’t think about the whys or wherefores so much.  I’ve started paying attention though.  Who better than Mr. Neil Gaiman to pay attention to WHY I’m willing to believe that his world is THE world for a while?  The stories I like the best these days are the ones that take the world we live in and twist it just a bit.  Think American Gods here, a whole different world layered over our own, sometimes one that “normal” people never see.  Kim Harrison, with the alternate world that changed because of tomatoes.  Laurell K. Hamilton’s St. Louis where vampires have been given the same rights as humans by the Supreme Court.  They make you think about possibilities long after the book is closed, and real life has intruded again.  The magic of “what if”.

The protagonist in The Ocean at the End of the Lane  is a seven year old boy. (I may have mentioned that earlier…once or twice.)  Children are amazing little people, aren’t they?  Watching them learn about the world is an experience, wonderful, hilarious, and just plain weird in turns…and sometimes all at once.  Everything is … data.  (Have you ever used a…socially unacceptable for a two-year-old word…in front of a two-year-old?  They zoom in on that thing like a heat seeking missile, and they think this is the best word they have ever heard.  It is repeated incessantly…in front of the most inappropriate people…like the pastor, their grandparents, or your boss?  Let me tell you about The List sometime.  My niece and nephew wanted to have a shirt printed for me that said “That’s on The List”) Each bit of information they absorb informs them of what the world is, and I think what makes this book and this particular twist on the world so believable.  This childhood ability to adapt a viewpoint of the world, based on new experience. Some things are still fluid, at seven.  Our protagonist isn’t a little kid anymore, but he doesn’t struggle as much as an adult against a set idea of what is “supposed to be” either.  He sees some pretty wild and crazy stuff, but his friend is there.  She isn’t scared, so it’s okay.  There are some things our protagonist is certain are absolute truths, (I mean, I know a few seven year olds who are convinced they know EVERYTHING, don’t you?),but even these get shaken a bit.  Eventually, he’s just taking things as they come, rolling with the punches… it is all just data.  Your friend shows you an orange sky? Weird, but it is right there in front of you so, okay. Adults struggle more to accept sweeping alterations to their perception of the way things really are.

Autographed Ocean

The fantastic events that happen in The Ocean at the End of the Lane are not unbelievable because the character believes.  The fantastic is in turns disturbing, creepy, unsettling, and sometimes beautiful.  The truly scary parts, for me, came from the purely human.  It gave me goosebumps.  It still gives me goosebumps.  It takes some of those vital absolutes our protagonist has and … shakes them up, makes them less certain.  One of his absolutes turned to vapor.  Just.  Like.  That.

During my recent opportunity to attending a reading and book signing, where I got my very own copy of The Ocean at the End of the Lane signed, I discovered that Neil Gaiman wrote this novel by accident.  That’s right ladies and gentlemen, this started out to be a short story for his wife, Amanda Palmer.  Then it became a novelette.  As it became longer, he said that he resigned himself to it being a novella.  Finally, he says he had to send an email saying that he had accidentally written a novel.  Maybe this is what they mean by “happy accidents.”

For all this is an “accidental” novel, there isn’t a wasted word in this beauty.  It is filled to the brim with everything that you love about reading Neil Gaiman.  I found no passages, paragraphs, scenes or even sentences that dragged. Everything has weight here.  Everything has meaning.

First Lines:

It was only a duck pond, out at the back of the farm.  It wasn’t very big.

Lettie Hempstock said it was an ocean, but I knew that was silly.  She said they’d come here across the ocean from the old county.

Her mother said that Lettie didn’t remember properly, and it was a long time ago, and anyway, the old country had sunk.

Old Mrs. Hempstock, Lettie’s grandmother, said they were both wrong, and that the place that had sunk wasn’t the really old country.  She said she could remember the really old country.

She said the really old country had blown up.

‘Til Next Time,

Jessica


Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders

photo (78)I bought Fragile Things several months ago and it sat in my to-read pile for a while.  Then I pulled it out and started to slide slowly down into the short stories and poems in this collection.  This is the book that I decided, with your help (Thank you SO much!), to have Mr. Gaiman sign for me.  When I chose this I hadn’t finished reading it.  I’d maybe gotten halfway through when I left it on a plane….yep, I left the sucker on the plane on my way back from Houston.  What’s a girl to do?  Well, this girl will take ANY excuse to go to the bookstore, so I bought another copy.  Fortunately, I had time to read it before the signing, and was exceptionally sure that Fragile Things was the representation of his writing that I needed him to sign.

I know it is already a bit battered (multiple plane rides, states, and bags will do that to you…I mean to a book, right, a book.)  There was a moment of embarrassment over the state of the book that I was asking him to sign for me, but I thought about how I would feel if I were an author. (This not an atypical occurrence for me.)  Worn means read.  Thumbed through, sections underlined, notes in the margin…loved.  Some books are like The Velveteen Rabbit, the love you show them is reflected on the outside.  Now, I can’t say that I know Neil Gaiman, but he seems like the type of guy to understand that.

I can usually skip the introductions, but I really enjoyed the insight the introduction gives the pieces in Fragile Things .  Mr. Gaiman, in his short stories especially, does not only a supremely decent job of creeping me out but also of surprising me.  They are dark, humorous and…twisty.  The poetry though…I do so love a good poem, and this was my first exposure to any written by Neil Gaiman.  The poems in this collection are filled with grace and beauty and a darkness that slowly encompasses you, rather like someone dimming the lights slowly instead of plunging you into the dark all at once.  The flow and the imagery are just gorgeous.

My mother is a true connoisseur of poetry.  If you give her the choice between a novel and a collection of poetry, she’ll pick the poems every time.  She even co-opted my Norton’s Anthology of Poetry from college. (She said she should get to read it too.  She did pay for it after all.  She has a point.  Now, ahem years later, she still has it.)  My Grandma Joye, her mother, wrote poetry, maybe that’s where this love comes from.  Compared to her, I dabble a bit, but I do know what I like.  I like what is in Fragile Things.  I read my Mom a couple of them.  (Isn’t poetry so much better when you read it aloud?)  She thought they were beautiful.  My nephew thought they were weird and creepy, he’s 12….he’s not wrong either.

When I was at the book signing for The Ocean at the End of the Lane someone asked me which story was my favorite.  I really hate that question.  TheOceanattheEndoftheLane_Hardcover_1359996597It is like choosing a favorite child or something.  Me, I’m the person that every third song on the radio is a favorite song, and there are too many books that I love…all for different reasons.  Who can choose a favorite?  Actually, I read a quote from Neil Gaiman that I find to be absolutely true,

“Picking five favorite books is like picking the five body parts you’d most like not to lose.”

Some of the pieces in this collection, like A Study in Emerald, I’d read before online on Neil Gaiman’s website.  It is a Sherlock Holmes meets H.P. Lovecraft kind of piece.  What?  Yes, you totally read that right.  Even though I’d already read this online, it was definitely worth a re-read, and it was even more intriguing the second time around because I’d recently read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s A Study in Scarlet and watched the BBC Sherlock episode A Study in Pink…well, I watched it a few times. (There are only six episodes!  This deserves a post all its own, and I promise it will get one…you just have to wait a bit.)  A Study in Emerald definitely had its surprising, creepy, and surprisingly creepy moments, let me assure you.

So, Other People is about a guy that goes to hell and the demon he meets there.  I found it to be absolutely fascinating and thought provoking. October in the Chair is a story inside of another story….just read it.  Instructions is fantastic, and I love the reassurance (or warning?) that is included:

“From the back garden you will be able to see the wild wood.

The deep well you walk past leads down to Winters’ realm;

there is another land at the bottom of it.

If you turn around here,

you can walk back, safely;

you will lose no face.  I will think no less of you.”

How to Talk to Girls at Parties is told from the perspective of a sixteen year old boy who gets dragged to a party that isn’t what either of them think it is.  Every time I read it, I really want to know what happens to upset Vic that way, don’t you?

photo (77)Then there’s the piece that closes the collection, The Monarch of the Glen, that stars Shadow from American Gods.  It was good to see Shadow again.  I didn’t realize until the opening paragraphs that I’d missed him.  Really good characters are like that, you need to visit them every now and again.

I could go on and on about the pieces in this collection.  There are so many things to say! Strange Little Girls, Keepsakes and Treasures, Sunbird (oh, you have to read this one!) and so many others that I didn’t want to leave out and couldn’t find space to describe.  Just read it, and you’ll understand.

Some short stories or short story collections I read and I feel cheated out of a novel.  I’m left wanting more, as if this is only enough to whet my appetite…an appetizer instead of a meal.  Fragile Things is a meal in itself…at least three courses, maybe four, and I certainly didn’t close the cover feeling unsatisfied…maybe a bit disturbed and unsettled.  However, if we wanted puppy dogs and sunshine…of the normal sort, we wouldn’t be reading Mr. Gaiman, now would we?  I’m sure that Neil Gaiman could happily write about puppy dogs and sunshine but the sunshine would be a winter sun, cold and wan, and the puppy….well that wouldn’t be a normal puppy at all.  The last time, it was a Hell-hound trapped in the body/attitude of a little dog … who knows what he’d think of next, and that’s why we love him.

This week’s “first lines” is a little bit different.  I picked two  Feeders and Eaters and Going Wodwo for a bit of a sneak peek.

FIRST LINE:

Feeders and Eaters

“This is a true story, pretty much.  As far as that goes, and whatever good it does anybody.”

Going Wodwo

“Shedding my shirt, my book, my coat, my life

Leaving them, empty husks and fallen leaves

Going in search of food and for a spring

Of sweet water.”

‘Til Next Time,

Jessica


“Fright Hair on Elm Street”: An Evening with Mr. Neil Gaiman…in Dallas, Texas

So I had a bit of time on my hands while waiting for my turn to have books signed by Neil Gaiman.  This is what I wrote, mostly on my iPhone, from the Majestic Theatre on Elm Street in Dallas, Texas.

I think I may be a bit starstruck. Tonight is the night of the Neil Gaiman reading and book signing and can I just say…wow…everything.

This morning everything went smoothly. My plane was on time, I picked up my car without a hitch, and I even found my hotel with a minimum of fuss. (You don’t know this yet, but I get lost…a lot. )

photo (68)

Oh my, the hotel! I’m staying at The Adolphus, and it is phenomenal! (Please enjoy this photo of the lobby, I know my skills as a photographer haven’t gotten any better, but my enthusiasm is exquisite.) My room even had a walk in closet. I’ve never stayed in a hotel that had a walk in closet before. It made me wish I had more to hang in it, but I’m only here for the one night so….I don’t think even a perpetual over packer could fill this closet.

The doorman also told me that Stephen King stays here fairly often when he comes to town and that John Grisham has stayed here as well.  Grisham actually missed his flight to stay and sign autographs for fans in the lobby. When my favorite doorman, Jimmy, tried to help him extricate himself, John Grisham said he’d rather stay. That he loved being able to interact with his fans….I wonder where Neil Gaiman’s staying. I’m not a stalker, but running into him in the lobby would be pretty freaking awesome.

Apparently, this hotel has a reputation for being haunted.  I found this out after I arrived safely home.  That’s probably a good thing, otherwise my imagination would have gotten carried away with me.  This probably explains Stephen King’s frequent stays.  However, there were no sightings of the supernatural during my stay, and I didn’t hear anything weirder than what you normally hear in a hotel. (Trust me, I’ve heard some really odd/disturbing things, too.)

This is where my plans begin to…unravel a bit, but not horribly. My plan was to walk around the Dallas Museum of Art before everything kicked off tonight. I forgot about Monday’s and museums. They’re closed. However, there was a back up plan, sort of…well, I created a Plan B when I discovered my little snafu. A client told me that Half Priced Books has their headquarters here, and there is a fantastic coffee shop attached that serves a German Chocolate Brownie that is amazing. Then I basically found a comfy spot to read until it was time to leave.  The brownie was a bit heavy on the icing, but otherwise excellent.

All would have been well, except…GPS hates me. Not mine in particular, but all of them. It got me lost, twice, before trying to make me exit on a closed ramp. I did find it though, eventually.  However, I was not there when they opened the doors, which was the goal.  I did arrive about thirty minutes later, an hour before the show was scheduled to begin.  That’s when I saw it.  The Will Call line. (dun-dun-duuuuuunh!)

photo (71)

Will Call line Part 1

The Will Call line, oh holy cow, it wrapped all the way around to the back of the building. This did not include the line for people who just needed to pick up their books, that wrapped around the side of the building in the other direction.  What time did people get here to stand in line?  Is this normal?  No, seriously.  This is the first book signing I’ve ever been to.  It was fun.  I plan to go to more of them.  Do I need to camp out or something? (Let’s go with the “or something” because I am SO not the type to camp out to get into a theater for an event in which I’ve already purchased tickets…or to buy tickets….or for Black Friday deals.  Spending the night in a line on the sidewalk is SO not my thing!)  How early do you need to arrive to ensure you don’t spend an hour+ standing in line to get in?

Will Call line Part 2

Will Call line Part 2

Once I walked through those doors though…The Majestic Theatre is gorgeous! I mean seriously beautiful in the way that modern theaters typically aren’t. The design details are so exquisite and the chandelier in the lobby is pure luxury.  Red velvet covers the seats and matches the big curtain on the stage, and the carvings above the stage and on the ceiling are intricate in the way that I’ve seen so often in Europe and not nearly often enough in the US.  I love ornate ceilings and I should have taken a picture of this one.  It was fantastic.

By the time I get inside the building the ushers are turning people away from the Orchestra and Mezzanine seating.  The only seats left are in the balcony, so up the stairs I tread.  While, I wait for the event to begin, I’m flipping through Facebook, Twitter, email.  Whatever, I can do to keep myself occupied.  Then I notice that the ushers are beginning to call out to people coming in the door.  “There’s one here,” someone shouts.  “No there aren’t any seats with four together, but there are still single seats available,” someone else tells a group.  When it is all said and done there is not an empty seat in the house, and this is Dallas, Texas at the end of June. The doors have been open for more than two hours, and as the bodies fill the seats, the temperature, honey, it is a-rising!  People start to fan themselves with the program, and my inner Sheldon Cooper tries to come out.  I know kinetic energy is only going to raise the temperature in here, but I can’t stop myself from joining in because the cool wafting air across my face does feel pretty good.

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Stage…yes, it is empty.

Given the number of people waiting outside when I came through the doors at 6:50, I am seriously impressed that we started only 15 minutes behind schedule. An introduction was made by Will Clarke, the author of The Worthy and Lord Vishnu’s Love Handles. Then Neil Gaiman takes the stage. (Sorry my only picture of the stage is of an empty stage.  They asked for no pictures or recordings, and I listened.  I was good….it was hard.)

Of course, he is dressed in solid black from the top of his curly mop of hair to the toes of his shoes. As he begins to speak, he clasps his hands behind his back and swings his shoulders back and forth, and the motion is so very childlike and a bit unexpected from this rather seriously dressed man. This is when it finally dawns on me that this is really happening. This isn’t some video online or a DVD, this is live and real and when it is over, I’ll be standing in front of Neil Gaiman and he’ll be signing my books.

He talking about writing the opening pages of The Ocean at the End of the Lane while sitting in a coffee shop here in DallasTheOceanattheEndoftheLane_Hardcover_1359996597while his wife, Amanda Palmer, is in Melbourne making an album. (Seriously, she is an amazing musician and that album, Theatre is Evil is freaking awesome! They all are, but Theatre is Evil is the one that she made while he wrote this book.) Then he’s talking about typing it, and I realize that I’ve read the tweets and blog posts they both wrote during this process. Before he says it, I know that he read whatever he’d done that day to her every night. No lie, I feel a bit like an insider now, even though I’m nothing of the sort.

Neil starts the reading, what will be the first of two readings tonight. This isn’t the plan, but this theater is just so beautiful and he wants to take Autographed Oceanadvantage of it. The Ocean at the End of the Lane is compelling from the first lines Mr. Gaiman reads, and the protagonist is so authentic. I can’t wait to read this book, and damn the crappy lighting above my seat that makes it impossible to read while I wait for my books to be signed.

Then comes the question and answer session. The crowd had a chance to write questions as they waited to begin, and that is even better because there are questions about Doctor Who, his body of work, and connections between pieces. Some of them are written by kids that are in the audience, which is fantastic. One question asked if he could do an Oprah type giveaway, what would he give us.  He said his pilot fountain pen because it hadn’t skipped in more than 27,000 books signed and some ridiculously named ink he uses because it looks like blood.

9780062224071_p0_v2_s114x166The second reading he did was from his children’s book, Fortunately, the Milk that will be released in September. Now, this is a book that I’ve gotten to read a bit about online, I’ve seen some of the gorgeous illustrations, and I have a basic idea of the plot line. The reading though, oh, it was great! It felt like a bedtime story told to a bunch of kids. (It is almost midnight now, and truthfully, my bedtime passed me by a while ago.) I didn’t want him to stop reading, but I also knew he couldn’t read forever.

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There are a boatload, several dozen boatloads, of people to have books signed and it will take hours as it is.  Seriously, it is a hell of a wait. They figured 1,500 people were here tonight, and at least 90% of them have stayed for the signing.  They keep asking if people would like to trade their unsigned copy of The Ocean at the End of the Lane for a pre-signed copy, and no one is taking them up on their offer.  Well, I think I saw a handful trade in their copies for pre-signed and leave.  Thank you for your feedback!  Fragile Things is now personalized and signed by Mr. Neil Gaiman!

photo (66)As we wait to have our books signed, I try to think of something witty and memorable to say when I finally get to the front of the line. I’ll give you three guesses to figure out if I accomplished this…the first two don’t count. In my defense, who is mentally on their toes at 1:30 in the morning? About midnight, I started to really feel bad for him. I mean, he’d been signing books since like 8:45. His hand had to be ready to fall off, or he was almost ready to wish it would just go completely numb at the very least! What did I end up saying, you ask? I ended up thanking him for hanging in there with us so late into the night. He said that he could say the same for us and I took my books and left. Of course, this morning I awoke with the perfect thing on the tip of my tongue, and a story plot swimming in my mind. (No, I’m not telling you what they were. On only about three hours of sleep, I may have been delusional and they suck.)  Maybe, the evening just sparked the creative juices.

I made some new friends last night. When you’re waiting for five hours and you can’t see to read, you have to pass the time. It is a bonus to know, for a fact, that you have at least one thing in common. Most of the wait, I talked with Kate.  She works in a comic book store and is working to go to college to go into film writing. Kate has done quite a bit of stage work as well. She’s going into rehearsals this week for a musical version of  Carrie and she’s playing the lead. She also has a first edition of Good Omens.  I was suitably impressed.  I have no first editions.  Well, I have first editions of ….nope, that is in my imaginary, if-i-was-a-rich-girl library.  Kate gave me some great recommendations for books and comic books to check out, so they went on the list. I’ll be sure to let you know what I find.

If you could meet any author, alive or…not who would you like to talk with?  Wait, have you already gotten to meet them?  How did that go?

‘Til Next Time,
Jessica


Allow Me To Introduce Myself…

Allow Me To Introduce Myself…

 

I just love the Rolling Stones.  Don’t you?  Every time I hear or even read that line, Mic Jagger’s voice slides through my mind and the Sympathy for the Devil plays in the background of my thoughts for a while.   So, moving right along, my name is Jessica and I have a book…addiction, we’ll say.  Well, it is really more stories than anything else.  My long standing love affair with stories began before I could even walk. (My Dad is a consummate storyteller.  So good, that it is hard to tell story from truth sometimes.) I was raised on fairy tale and myth with a splash of good old fashioned yarn thrown in for good measure.  The seductive power of a well told story is just….well, there’s nothing else quite like it, is there?  A well-constructed story that can convincingly draw me so deeply into fantasy that when I emerge the real world seems a bit dull or unreal by comparison is the ultimate prize. My quest for great stories has led me to find them in all sorts of places: books, history (it’s not JUST facts and dates, kids), letters, movies, television…. This love of discovering the worlds of others’ imaginations (often fantastical worlds at that) labeled me a “geek” long before it was cool, but I never really minded much.

 

So why “Geekology”?  The internet has made the world an amazing and amazingly weird place.  It has also opened up all kinds of doors to show me that there are A LOT of mediums for storytelling and even more stories that I really know absolutely nothing about.  Some of these stories are the ones that others have called “iconic” as a matter of fact.  Seriously, I’ve been missing out.  So, I’m learning here.  The 101 is because I’ve realized that I really am a novice.  There is so much that I know that I don’t know…right that sentence kind of got away from me. I’m at the freshman level here, so to speak.  Hopefully we can learn together.

 

So, what am I going to be doing with this whole blog thing?  That is a really excellent question, ladies and gentlemen, and I’m sure we’ll figure it out together.  To begin, I thought I’d share some of the awesome stuff I’m finding (because it is REALLY awesome!) Some of it’s new, some of it not so much. (I’ve missed out on a lot, I’m telling you!) Please, comment, send me emails you can follow me on twitter @ilovegeekology101, and that way you can see how I’m discovering some of this cool stuff.

 

Now you have to be asking yourself, what has she missed out on that started this? (Another excellent question!) Okay, ready? Neil Gaiman.

 

Taken from Mr. Gaiman's Facebook Page

Taken from Mr. Gaiman’s Facebook Page

 

 

 

I I found him on twitter because he replied to a tweet posted by a favorite author of mine, the amazing, Laurell K Hamilton.  It was funny.  I followed him, never heard of him before though.  Then there was this commencement speech that he did, here.  It has even been made into a book Make Good Art.

 

 MakeGoodArt_Hardback_1359996371

 

Wow, I thought, I really like what he’s saying.  He’s a writer?  What has he written? (Seriously, if you smack your head like that every time I’ve missed out on something obvious, it is going to hurt…and maybe leave a mark.)  So I asked around, looked on the web and found out about The Sandman comic books.  This was my first comic book purchase ever. (I know, and I call myself a geek!) Boom!  Hooked!  Now I’m working my way through…well, pretty much everything else he’s ever written.  I am even going to be able to attend a book signing next month in Dallas for The Ocean at the End of the Lane, which will be released June 18, 2013.

 

 TheOceanattheEndoftheLane_Hardcover_1359996597

 

(Don’t even try to imagine that I’m NOT jumping up and down with glee here.)  Now I just have to choose ONE item for him to sign for me.  How can I pick?  Neverwhere, Good Omens, Sandman? What about Fragile ThingsI have until June 24th to choose.  (Last I checked there were still some tickets available, you can get them here.) Dear reader, help me choose!!!

 

 

Okay, so I got a bit distracted in my excitement. (it is easy to do Neil Gaiman, for crying out loud!) Since I’m finding all this amazing new/old stuff or rather new to me stuff or sometimes just plain new stuff, I want to share.  Kind of like a review.  Books, movies, shows, even games (Maybe games, I suck at games!) I like games, but I’m not very good at competitive events I know I won’t win…yeah, I know.  I just got a PS3 so I’m trying it out though.  Right now I’m playing Assassin’s Creed III and Call of Duty: Black Ops.  My 12 year old nephew kicks my butt at Black Ops… and laughs…every time.  Does he have to laugh?  He says yes, but he’ll try to laugh more quietly.  Then he asks what level I made it to before the zombies got me…zombies suck.   Any ideas on how to beat the 12 year old…or the zombies are helpful….it’s embarrassing!

 

‘Til next time!
Love,

 

Jessica