Tt\here’s nothing quite like watching nearly a thousand people screaming their lungs out for something they love. I don’t get a lot of opportunities to see something like that on a daily basis, but on October 4, I did.
No, I wasn’t at the Browns game or a concert, I was at a book signing. A book signing! There weren’t even that many old people there! Reading is awesome! Okay, but seriously, Neil Gaiman really is a rock star in the literary world, considering he is the master of all genres. His bibliography has its own Wikipedia page.
He started out with comics and graphic novels (“The Sandman Chronicles” was one of the first comic series to receive critical acclaim from big-shots in the literary world, including Norman Mailer). Though he still draws, he quickly moved on to novels like “Neverwhere” and “American Gods.”
Around here, though, he might be more famous for his childrens’ and young adult books. Both “Stardust” and “Coraline” were made into movies within the past few years. One of his latest, “The Graveyard Book” is enjoying its 54th week on the New York Times’ bestseller list and won the Newbery Award. But I wasn’t just there to gape at Neil’s track record in awe (though that might have been one of my reasons). When he got up in front of all those screaming fans, and greeted us all with a quiet little “hallo” (he’s British).
I realized this man I’ve admired since I was ten isn’t some rock god to be idolized. He’s just a regular person who’s very good at making things up. He talked about his childhood and how when he was younger, his parents would frisk him for books before family events so they could make sure he wasn’t reading. He would fantasize about slipping into a parallel universe with a copy of the first Lord of the Rings book and he would publish it and essentially turn himself into J.R.R. Tolkien.
I know it sounds stupid but I had the biggest grin on my face and a couple of tears welled up in my eyes. I’m not going to lie. Replace Tolkien with Rowling and you’ve got my childhood. It felt so amazing to be able to relate to this brilliant writer, that we had so much in common. I never would have dreamed that his family thought his tendency to lose himself in books was strange too. But then again, it made me think that parents need to encourage their kids to read, and praise them when they do, or else where are the next great literary masterpieces going to come from? The only real apprenticeship writers have is reading.