What a field day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly saying, "hooray for our side"

Friday, May 25, 2012


Last night I had a peculiar dream. I was back in college as an undergraduate (yes, not so weird, I actually am, but this was, in the way dreams can be, my first degree, but I was as old as I am now) and I was assigned to be Neil Gaiman's assistant while he visited the college (I don't know which one, while it looked like the backstreets of Akron U, it most certainly wasn't). So I had picked him up after some event on campus and was attempting to get him to the next event.

Only because people parked as if the stripes were merely suggestions, I could find a way out of a parking lot that seemed to stretch for a few blocks. I cracked a joke that had Neil laughing uproariously. But then still couldn't find a way out to the street. So to get Neil to where he needed to go on time, he got out of the car. A few minutes later I found a way out and went back to look for him. Only I couldn't find him again.

I wish I remembered what that joke was. Also I woke up thinking, "I wonder if I could write like him?" That's what the WWNW is about; what would Neil write? I've certainly read enough of him, and I have his voice on audiobooks so I have his rhythm down. I guess I've never intentionally written in the style of someone else (although I've been compared to Bradburry). My own style is open (I think), so Neil's writing isn't much different, just more chock full of the history of fairy and fantasy. The deep well he draws from. That sounds like there's only a little difference, but it's easy to say and hard to pull off.

Although I have to say my first thought at waking was, "WTF was that?"

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