I haven’t written in ages. Years. Decades. Clearly, my hyperbole is still intact, so I think it is safe to proceed.
Neil Gaiman. That’s the name of the guy getting credit for this post. Neil Gaiman and OverDrive. OverDrive is also getting credit for this post, because OverDrive, a free app that enables you to check out books from your local library and read or hear on your phone, tablet, etc., introduced me to Mr. Gaiman. Mr. Gaiman. That’s too formal. Going forward, I’m going to refer to Mr. Gaiman by his first name. I don’t think he’ll mind.
Whenever I visit my local Barnes and Noble Bookseller, I typically head straight to the Children’s section to find books for my boys. On more than one occasion, I’ve found myself spending several minutes starring at Neil’s novel, The Graveyard Book. I’ve yet to buy the book, but I might. One day. Or, I will listen to it online through OverDrive. Still, though I’ve not bought the book, I have his name in my head. And recently, while searching through my library’s electronic card catalog of the 21st Century via OverDrive, I came across Neil’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane. Once I started listening to the book, narrated by Neil himself, I was smitten.
Quite simply, I have fallen in love with Neil and his writing style. Even as I type this, I am reading it in his voice.
Those who know me in real life, as opposed to this digital life made up of 0s and 1s, tell me I write like I speak. They tell me they read my posts, hearing my voice as they read. I’ve not actually read one of Neil’s books – only listened. And, I’ve only completely listened to one book. (Though yesterday, I started another one of his books, Trigger Warning. I was drawn to it because it reference The Ocean, so it seemed the logical choice.)
Because I’ve not yet read one of his books, I don’t know if Neil’s books read like he speaks. And, I suppose it is safe to say I will never know if his books read like he speaks; because, well, after hearing Neil read his own books, I can only assume if/when I actually read one of his books, I will read it in his voice, trying to emulate the inflections and tones I’ve heard him make, much like I am doing now as I share this story with you.
And, with that, I think I’ve come to the end of this story. That is to say, I’ve scratched my ‘itch to write’ enough to satisfy it for another day or two – or 365 or more. But, I feel it necessary to let you know that I quite enjoyed The Ocean at the End of the Lane, though the ending wasn’t as exciting as I had hoped. (The description of the worm in the foot and the visual triggered by the said description will live with me forever. Thanks for that, Neil.) I am also enjoying Trigger Warning. My Cassandra was George Robinson. Fortunately for me, he stayed a work of fiction.
I’m pleased to finally meet your creations, Mr. Gaiman.* Formalities feel necessary at this point. It may take me awhile to get up to speed with the hip and happening, but I like to think I make it eventually. If only for a moment.
* Please know, though I’ve not read Coraline, I’ve seen the movie. (I realize that disclosure could be considered sacrilegious.) And no, I did not realize Coraline was a work of Gaiman. See post reference about my struggle to be hip and happening.