starDUST, SANDman, what's next? POWDERpeople.....or something.

  I am optimistic that as I progress in writing perhaps the title of my posts will improve? Here's hoping....

 For a long while it had been my secret wish to someday glimpse or even to meet a celebrity. In London there were numerous opportunities. I could have seen Whoopi Goldberg in Sister Act but I couldn't afford theater at the time. I could have gone to Buckingham Palace to see Will and Kate kiss on their wedding day but I really didn't feel like going out at the time. Friends would casually brag of who they saw in a restaurant or who they met at a concert. A friend once showed me video footage of Johnny Depp passing through a crowd of cameras and within two feet of him. At such times all I could do was stare wistfully out the nearest window, wondering when it would at last be my turn and what sort of personality this enigmatic character might have.

 Well, that day has come and gone and I am happy to say that it was not a tabloid skank nor your average run of the mill, dime a dozen celebrity. It was none other than Neil Gaiman author of  Stardust, Coraline, and writer of the brilliantly imaginative Sandman series. And, not only did I see him, I was in the same room as him for at least an hour! AND he made eye contact with me a few times! Oh, AND I heard him read, not his own material, but even so, it was amazing!

 As apart of the International Book Festival, Amnesty International was hosting a free show every day in which different authors would read excerpts from the works of imprisoned writers around the world. I happened to attend the festival on the day in which Neil Gaiman was reading and decided to go.

 Amongst the three other authors in attendance Gaiman was immediately distinguishable. He wore entirely black: baggy black pants tucked into black boots, and a black shirt covered by a black sports jacket. Also a black wristwatch worn on his right hand (Is he left handed? Possibly). All this combined with his black hair made for the same dark, moody effect that his characters are styled by.

 And that hair. Such black hair. While he was sitting, listening to the others read he would frequently run his fingers through those frizzy curls which had such ease in their disarray that this was never to any effect. Was he brooding or being haughty? Was it an indifferent force of habit, or did he perhaps have a slight itch on his scalp? Alas! We can only speculate. 

He was last of all to read his bit which was originally written by an inmate on death row in California. And of all the writers he by far had the best voice and charisma for the task. His voice is strong and silky, but not excessively so ( i was expecting it to be like Alan Rickman's) His perfect pauses and pronunciation heightened the dramatic effect when appropriate. His eyes roamed equally over the crowd and equally between the crowd and his paper. It was narration at its finest.

 As I mentioned before he seemed to make eye contact with me a few times, however, I did not approach him after the show. One reason is that lately if my voice is not in use it tends to issue itself in croaks that would presumably belong to an individual who is either dying or very manly. But besides from that I don't think much would have been accomplished by me meeting him on such unequal footing as a famous writer to a fan. I would hardly have been able to articulate on what levels I appreciate his creativity. I would hardly have been able to articulate anything through sputters, stutters and eyes overflowing with adoration. Had I approached him in this state I imagine that I would have swiftly abandoned hope of an average interview and attempted to detach some souvenir hair from his head before running gleefully from the room. So it was all for the best. I could not have been happier with the experience.

 I found out later though that apparently the day before he had a Q&A show, 1 hour long, hosted by Audrey Niffenegger all about his work, and the tickets were only £4.50! Sigh...