Neil Gaiman: The Ocean at the End of the [Majestic Theatre]

My phone died, so I never managed to get any pictures of
my own. So I borrowed this one from Google Images.

When I heard that Neil Gaiman was going to be making a stop in Dallas on his "Last U.S. Book Tour," you had better believe I was scrambling to get myself a ticket. I talked to all of my friends, trying to see if one of them would come with me, but only my Whovian friends were very familiar with him and even then, didn't really care to see the guy who had written a few of the episodes, no matter how fabulously done they agreed those episodes were.

So I went by myself. It was worth it to me and it wasn't like it would make much difference. Besides, this meant I could stay as long as I wanted afterward and not inconvenience anyone but myself. (This turned out to be incredibly valid, as I  actually waited 5 1/2 hour to get my book signed. More on that later.) However, this also made it incredibly difficult when I had no one to talk me down when the panic attack started. After all, it's usually not the greatest idea to set a single claustrophobic girl who battles social anxiety pretty regularly in the midst of over 1500 people. I've battled enough public panic attacks that I did manage to calm myself before making a scene. I regulated my breathing and did myself to lose myself in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (a reread), which are two things that I've found immensely helpful in calming my anxiety. By the time the event began, I was chill enough to focus and stop freaking out, so I'd say I was pretty successful.

Neil started out the event with a reading from the second chapter of his new book, The Ocean at the End of the Lane. It was beautiful and masterfully written, as every work I've ever seen (or heard) of his usually manages to be. He told us the book had started off as a short story he had decided to write for his wife, Amanda Palmer, who was recording an album. However, the more he worked on it, the longer it managed to become. Soon he was calling his agent to let them know that he had somehow managed to write a surprise novel and they would probably want to take a look at it. Thus The Ocean at the End of the Lane was born.

Next, he brought out a stack of cards about four inches thick, each bearing a question a member of the audience had written for them. He joked that he had taken a larger stack out of it that was all the same question: "What was it like to work on Doctor Who?" By the loud cheering that came from the audience (as well as the fabulous array of Doctor Who shirts I saw on my way in), I'd say it wasn't much of an exaggeration. 

While he only managed to answer a few of the questions posed to him, there were some pretty fun and interesting ones among those he did get to. One person asked why he always wore black. His answer?: "Because I have no imagination." I'm sure you can imagine the chortling response of the thousand attendees who were all there because of how deeply they idolize his creativity and imagination. 

One father asked what advice he had for raising a daughter. Neil has three children, two of them girls. His answer was that he always thought that as long as he didn't do anything majorly wrong (ie. beat them with coat hangers or lock them in closets), then they would probably turn out alright. He also suggested that fathers read to their children. And always do all the voices.

One of my favorite bits was when a ten year-old girl asked him just how many books he had written. "This is a horrible example of adult fallibility," he answered, "But I don't actually know." He went on to explain that he had lost track and, besides, he couldn't really pin down what exactly counted and what didn't. 

Closing with an impromptu reading from his upcoming children's book, Fortunately the Milk, he claimed he had only decided to read it when he saw how beautiful the Majestic Theatre was. He thought it was so beautiful that it required a second reading. As you can imagine, the audience was ecstatic. I, for one, cannot wait for its release. You had better believe I will be shelling out my hard-earned money for that gem.

When the reading ended, the signing commenced. Mr. Gaiman had previously pointed out that, though this particular tour has been deemed his "Last U.S. Book Tour," he imagines he will probably have plenty of other tours in the U.S. After all, he does live here. This just happens to be the last book tour where there will be signing. This is because of how late into the night they go. Admittedly, I had originally thought this was an exaggeration. However, when I ended up in the last row for the signing and didn't actually make it out of the Majestic Theatre until 2:15am, I fully understood what he meant. He looked ready to drop. I know I sure was, and I hadn't been signing 2+ books per person for the past five hours.

My signed copy of Stardust! :)

I'm deeply thankful I had the chance to see Neil Gaiman and have my copy of Stardust signed, though it did take a while. It was worth the wait (and, of course, I did get a good chunk of reading done). It was fun to spend the time watching 4/5ths of a packed theatre pull out books and spend hours reading together in silence or talking about everything they admired about one of their favorite authors. And how could I resist the fact that standing in the lobby of the balcony, one could overlook where he was signing. 

I'm sure I wasn't the only aspiring author who leaned over the railing, picturing what it would be like to be in his place, having created worlds that had so perfectly impacted the lives of so many wonderful people.