Neil Gaiman v. 3.0

  • Jul. 7th, 2008 at 8:04 AM
lu: (Default)
Photographic evidence:

The message Neil left on FLIP's guest book.

Picture taken by my dad of Neil on stage reading Other People.

Picture taken by me of Neil and dad.

!!!!!!!!!! (no explanation needed)

The size of the line to get him to sign books. Neil signed from 1 pm to 6:45 pm. I was glad I was able to talk to him before, but, if I hadn't, I would be one of the last people there. This was the size of the line right after the panel finished. I was very much *glares*

And last but not least, my copy of American Gods, and the cutest drawing of Odin by Gaiman (didn't manage to put it on the proper position. My photo editing IQ is the equivalent of that of a blind amoeba).

On a not completely unrelated note, I've started reading David Sedaris' Me Talk Pretty One Day, a book I bought at FLIP after watching some of Sedaris' panel. This book is so hilarious I magnificently failed to prevent myself laughing out loud while inside the car with a French author and her translator on my way back to Rio. They obviously thought I was nuts.

"Nice job."

  • Jul. 5th, 2008 at 9:55 PM
lu: (Ineffable)

Some three weeks ago I found out Neil Gaiman would be at FLIP (Feira Literária Internacional de Paraty), which takes place at the town of Paraty, four hours away from Rio. I called my father to find out whether he could manage to get a ticket for me, since I really wanted to meet Gaiman. Turned out my dad was not only going to be at FLIP, he would me the moderator of Neil Gaiman and Richard Price's panel. Needless to say I freaked out, and found myself on July 5th at Paraty, with a copy of American Gods, a 1992 edition of Dolls House and a VIP pass walking down the streets of Paraty just before the panel started.

[Scene 1:] INT. A tent. Five people inside: my dad, myself, Richard Price, a producer and Gaiman's publisher in Brazil.

Gaiman enters, and looks around. After some days wondering whether I would recognise him, I suddenly have no doubt: he is very much unique. He looked the same way he did on the photos in the books. Maybe a little older, but nonetheless charming as hell.

In turn, Gaiman is introduced to everyone.

Dad: Gaiman, this is my daughter, Luiza.

Neil: Hi. I'm Neil.

Lu: ... *whispers* Hi.

Gaiman talks to some people, and proceeds to sign the guest book of the event. After he's done, a guy comes over and asks him to sign Preludes & Nocturnes. I see my chance, and I seize it.

Lu: Mr. Gaiman, I'm a huge fan of yours. I really admire your work. I think you're brilliant.

Neil Gaiman smiles.

Neil: Thank you. In that case, what can I do for you?

Lu: Would you please sign my book? I brought a copy of my favourite book of yours.

I pick up American Gods. Gaiman proceeds to sign it.

Lu: I actually believe this is your best work, Mr. Gaiman. I did just finish reading Sandman this morning, and I have to congratulate you, for it is also really brilliant.

Gaiman is done signing.

Neil: Thank you. I'm glad you liked it.

Lu: Thank you so much, Mr. Gaiman!

Neil Gaiman: Please, call me Neil.

Lu: Ok, sorry, Gaiman. Neil! Sorry. Listen, I have a favour to ask of you. I have a friend who is a huge fan of yours, and she'd really love it if you'd sign her book. Could you do it?

Neil: Sure.

I pick up the 1992 Dolls House edition. Gaiman stares at it.

Lu: It's a really old edition, back when it was first published in Brazil.

Neil: Yes, I know. You know, I actually have a poster of this Brazilian cover on my bathroom wall.

Lu: Wow! Really? Cool.

Neil: Yeah, I really like it.

Lu: I really love Dolls House. I think it's my favourite Sandman volume, along with The Kindly Ones.

Gaiman asks me my friend's name, signs the book.

Lu: Thank you very much, Neil!

Neil: No problem.

I leave the tent, for the panel is about to start and I need to get a decent place.

[Scene 2:] INT. A bigger tent. Hundreds of people watch Gaiman, my dad and Richard Price talk.

I am sitting on the third row, really close to Neil. For the next hour and a half I am completely mesmerized. Gaiman reads Other People, a short-story from Fragile Things. It's an amazing experience. His tone of voice, the way he pronounces every word. It's brilliant. It's perfect. The whole panel is a lot of fun. Neil makes me fall in love with him with every line, and Price is a happy surprise.

[Scene 3:] OUT. DAY. Backstage. Gaiman and dad are talking.

Neil: Thank you. It was great. Painless.

Dad: It was really good. Amazing.

Dad asks me to take a picture of them. I take it.

Neil: Take a picture of us now.

Gaiman points to me. I almost die of so much happiness. I hug him. He's really tall.

Dad: You know, Luiza prepared me very well for this.

Neil: Really?

He looks at me.

Lu: Yeah, there was some prep talk and all.

Neil extends his right hand. I hold it.

Neil: Nice job.

Lu: Thank you.

Neil Gaiman has to go. He is already being pushed around by anxious producers.

Lu: Thank you, Neil! It was a pleasure.

I'm not sure he heard it. I guess he did. He walks away, surrounded by security guards.

Bloody hell. Time to wake up now.

Post scriptum: No pictures yet, because the internet here is really, really slow. But I'll make new post in the future with photographic evidence! So far, only my father's blog holds a few.

"Hi. I'm Neil."

  • Jul. 5th, 2008 at 4:02 PM
lu: (Ineffable)
Quick post to let you all know that I HAVE MET NEIL GAIMAN. And he's AWESOME.

More details once I get my hands on a decent computer. The BlackBerry isn't practical for all the detail and perfectionism this narrative requires of me.

Pictures at


You like bowling, don't you, Montag?

If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. If the government is inefficient, topheavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel like they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.

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