Showing posts with label Neil Gaiman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neil Gaiman. Show all posts

26 May 2013

Pick-up Lines

If asked, I would probably say my favorite opening line to a book would be from Charlotte's Web. I mean, "Where's Papa going with that ax?" has got to be in a great many top ten lists. It says so much, with so little.

The last few weeks I've been doing a lot of reading about writing and a lot of thinking about the art of storytelling. I'm still working on the opening of my novel and have yet to settle on exactly the right way to start the book. So I keep playing. I keep exploring. I keep dreaming.

After a morning of adventuring and yard work, I decided to settle into the library for an hour or two of reading/writing/thinking. I pulled The Observation Deck by Naomi Epel off the shelf where I keep my books about writing and decided to draw a card and see where it took me.

study opening lines

Ah, a bit timely and appropriate. I was instructed to pull some favorite books of the shelf and look at their opening lines. I pulled five favorites (from childhood to present day) off the shelf. These are their first lines:

"The night before he went to London, Richard Mayhew was not enjoying himself." (from the prologue of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere)

"The circus arrives without warning." (from Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus)

"Walking to school over the snow-muffled cobblestones, Karou had no sinister premonitions about the day." (from Laini Taylor's Daughter of Smoke and Bone)

"Once there were four children named Peter, Susan, Edmond, and Lucy." from (C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe)

"Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde's door without due regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel was sitting in her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof." (from L.M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables)

Looking at first lines all on there own is an interesting adventure, especially when they are from a story that is so familiar you to you it feels like one of your very own. (like Anne or Lucy) Some people argue that the opening line should be, in some way or another, tied in to the story's end, that the essence of what the book is about, from beginning to end, should be represented in that first line. Talk about a lot of weight resting on only a few words!

In addition to looking at some of the opening lines to some of my favorites, The Observation Deck also challenged me to "brainstorm a list of twenty-five spontaneous opening lines."

Here are my unedited opening lines:

1) Recently divorced, Penny sat alone in her new apartment, looking at the blank walls, wondering where and when, exactly, she had taken the wrong path.

2) When Esperanza was twelve years old, she had a dream that one day she would own her own gas station.

3) Paul held his breath and listened to the crowd roaring as loud as the Pacific, waiting for him to make his entrance, wondering if everything had been worth it.

4) After sleeping until noon, I finally woke up and went into the kitchen where I found my grandmother working on yet another puzzle.

5) "Because," my mother said, "and that is the only answer you deserve."

6) "Tell me," Jeremiah said, "how it is you ended up here, at my door in the middle of the night, when you are supposed to be on a plane to the other side of the world."

7) I wanted to say yes, and yet, I couldn't believe it when I heard myself say no.

8) There is a certain freedom that comes from having lost everything.

9)  Allison didn't even know she was nervous until she looked down and saw that she'd chewed her nails all the way down to the quick.

10) Susan sat back in her seat, the air of the plane already stale, and waited for that moment when the wheels left the ground.

11) Nichole hadn't opened the yearbook from her senior year of high school since the day she'd brought it home from school.

12) Sometimes the truth is more ambitious than a lie.

13) After being a parent for 4 years, Andrea was convinced the only purpose she played was to answer the question, "Why?"

14) My grandfather always said, "You go up or you go down, those are the only two choices you get in life or in death."

15) Patricia learned the hard way to never say never.

16) Standing on the edge of cliff, one that was both literal and figurative, Amy thought about the time her father took her to the zoo.

17) As soon as Georgia opened the refrigerator, she knew that there was something she had forgotten long ago.

18) After 12 years of piano lessons, Andy decided he would never play again.

19) There have been many times I have wished for a time machine, a way to go back and make the smarter choice, but never a time when I have wished for it more than the night my best friend married the only boy I had ever loved.

20) "Imagine," I said to Andy, the boy who'd been my neighbor and best friend since we started kindergarten, "Imagine if there actually had been a body inside."

21) It wasn't until my phone rang that I knew I was going to be in some serious trouble.

22) Once upon a time there was a girl at a party when she should have been home, snuggled beneath the covers of her childhood bed.

23) The room was dark and lined with bookshelf after bookshelf, each one stacked with books both vertically and horizontally.

24) If it weren't for the fireworks, with their booms and cracks, I would not have known that today was the 4th of July.

25) It was unusual for Vivian to be caught by surprise and so I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to make her appear so out of sorts.


The second part of the exercise involves taking one of the 25 opening lines and writing the paragraphs that follow. I'm curious to know which, if any of these opening lines were intriguing to you, dear reader. Are there any that leave you wanting to know the rest of the story? Give me a number in a comment (on the blog or on Facebook) and we'll see what happens!

19 May 2013

When the Sandman Visits

Last night I dreamed of Neil Gaiman. The truth is, I have a lot of Neil Gaiman dreams. He has held more guest appearances in my dreams than any other person. Occasionally Amanda Palmer is in them, but most of the time it's only Neil.

I met Neil Gaiman (in real life) almost 15 years ago, not long after I started working in my first bookstore. He was touring for Stardust and at the time, I had yet to read Sandman or any other of his brilliant works. To me, then, he was simply a nice looking, nice sounding British gentleman. He was kind and witty. And because I wasn't yet a fan, I wasn't nervous or self-conscious.

After that meeting, he began to appear in my dreams. Sometimes I'll go months and months between these nocturnal encounters and other times I'll have several in a single week. They are, without a doubt, some of my favorite dreams and I often wake up feeling inspired. A year and a half ago I had one in which I was taking a writing class with Neil. In it, we didn't talk about writing, we talked about the importance of saying thank you. Odd, and yet somehow it seemed to make complete sense. I ended up writing a thank you email to a former writing professor who had taught me many important things about writing, about life.

Sometimes Neil and I simply hang out and the conversations we have don't have roots deep enough to hold on to the morning's consciousness. Last night, we were in my store. We were all dressed for a wedding and Neil was wearing this amazing black suit. The down escalator had been transformed into a slide. I grabbed my Neil-Obsessed-Co-Worker, and took a picture of him with Neil using one of the teen endcaps for a back-drop.

While I was at work yesterday I picked up the Chip Kidd designed book of Neil Gaiman's, Make Good Art. It is the physical manifestation of the speech he gave last year to Philadelphia's University of the Arts. When I got home, I sat down and read it. If you're on the internet at all, odds are you saw at least bits and pieces of it passing by. There were quotes almost everywhere I wandered. The speech struck a chord me as well as, it seemed, a million other people. (You can actually watch Neil deliver the speech by visiting here.)

Watch the video. Find the written speech online. Buy the brilliantly designed little book. Whether you are a creative type or not, there is something there for everyone. There were words held within those pages that I needed to find, right now and for always.

As I've talked about before, I've been scraping up my shins on the stumbling blocks of fear. The fear of failure, to be specific. Making good art isn't about creating something you know is going to work, something you know is going to be "good." That's boring, and so often misses the mark. Instead, I think Neil Gaiman is right. We should go and "make interesting, amazing, glorious, fantastic mistakes."


15 April 2012

Neil Gaiman (National Poetry Month)

I got to spend my last birthday listening to Neil Gaiman read this poem. It was the first time I was introduced to it despite having possessed the book (Fragile Things) it can be found in since publication. One thing I've learned about books is that they come to you best when you need them the most. As Neil Gaiman says in the introduction of the book, talking about this poem, it really does work when read to an audience. Now it is one of my absolute favorites. I hope you enjoy.



The Day the Saucers Came

That day, the saucers landed. Hundreds of them, golden
Silent, coming down from the sky like great snowflakes,
And the people of Earth stood and
    stared as they descended,
Waiting, dry-mouthed, to find what waited inside for us
And none of us knowing if we would be here tomorrow
But you didn't notice because

That day, the day the saucers came, by some coincidence,
Was the day that graves gave up their dead
And the zombies pushed up through soft earth
or erupted, shambling and dull-eyed, unstoppable,
Came towards us, the living, and we screamed and ran,
But you did not notice this because

On the saucer day, which was the zombie day, it was
Ragnarok also, and the television screens showed us
A ship built of dead-men's nails, a serpent, a wolf,
All bigger than the mind could hold,
     and the cameraman could
Not get far enough away, and then the Gods came out
But you did not see them coming because

On the saucer-zombie-battling-gods
     day the floodgates broke
And each of us was engulfed by genies and sprites
Offering us wishes and wonders and eternities
And charm and cleverness and true
     brave hearts and pots of gold
While giants fefofummed across
     the land, and killer bees,
But you had no idea of any of this because

That day, the saucer day the zombie day
The Ragnarok and fairies day, the
     day the great winds came
And snows, and the cities turned to crystal, the day
All plants died, plastics dissolved, the day the
Computers turned, the screens telling
     us we would obey, the day
Angels, drunk and muddled, stumbled from the bars,
And all the bells of London were sounded, the day
Animals spoke to us in Assyrian, the Yeti day,
The fluttering capes and arrival of
     the Time Machine day,
You didn't notice any of this because
you were sitting in your room, not doing anything
not even reading, not really, just
looking at your telephone,
wondering if I was going to call.

01 January 2012

Good Morning, 2012!

I am a fan of round numbers (like zeros and eights with their lovely shapes). I am also a fan of even numbers (2,4,6,8 who do we appreciate? Even numbers!) Maybe this is why (along with a Mayan predicted Apocalypse) I have been so looking forward to the start of 2012. It's one of those years that stands out in the progression of time. Like 1994 (high school graduation) and 1998 (college). 2000 was another such year with all its pretty zeros and the pending doom of Y2K.

It was in the fall of 2000 I went to Guatemala for two weeks. While I was there I visited the Mayan Ruins at Tikal and learned, for the first time about the Mayan calendar. I was fascinated. I spent a few years doing bits of research here and there, but was surprised that there wasn't more mainstream attention/interest. A few years later, that all changed and before I knew it I was seeing book displays for 2012 and movies and horrible documentaries. Has anyone written a song yet? We really should party like it's 2012...and now that I've got my ukulele (and maybe 3-4 chords nailed) I'll get on that.

I'm happy right now. What a lucky place to be. I am looking forward to this year...personally, professionally, hopefully. I started out this day with what I'm thinking will be a new annual tradition (this was year two). David Levithan (editor, writer, inspire-er) takes a photograph every day and then on New Year's he sets the photos to music and puts together a lovely video slideshow (viewed here). I could watch it over and over again. It inspires me.

I've never been one to keep a list of books I've read. I guess I've always felt like that's what my library is for (but then again, I do borrow ever so many books from work). Over the past month, I've been contemplating starting a list of books for 2012, but thinking about the photo diary that David Levithan keeps, I think, instead, I will photograph each book I read and then at the end of the year, I will put together some kind of photo collage/video to celebrate it. What fun! And way cooler than a boring old list...

This past week, I finally had a day (and a half) off. I spent it catching up on life's business (cleaning, laundry, bills, groceries) and I savored it reading and editing. I read an absolutely brilliant book by Portlander Laini Taylor called Daughter of Smoke and Bone. It is honestly, one of the most thrilling (for its language, its characters, its plot) that I have read in a really long time. Though classified by its publishers as Teen/Young Adult, the book transcends such labels (for a variety of reasons). I fell head over heels in love with this book.
"For the way loneliness is worse when you return to it after a reprieve--like the soul's version of putting on a wet bathing suit, clammy and miserable."
The book is just filled with these wonderful thoughts, ideas, feelings, phrasings. I didn't want it to end! And because it literally ends with "To be continued..." it hasn't. Warning: Next book isn't out until the fall of 2012.

2011 wasn't so bad, looking back. Three highlights I saw/did/loved from various categories:

Live Music: Neil Gaiman/Amanda Palmer, TMBG, Josh Ritter
Bookish Events: Neil Gaiman/Amanda Palmer, Josh Ritter, David Levithan
Television: Doctor Who (seriously, what took me so long!), Downton Abbey, Glee
Books: Domestic Violets, The Night Circus, Daughter of Smoke and Bone
Albums: Iron & Wine's Kiss Each Other Clean, My Morning Jacket's Circuital and The Decemberists The King is Dead

Lucky for me, 2012 has some things I'm very much looking forward to and fortunately, I don't have to wait long for them...January is already filled with such wonderful things! What I'm looking forward to most? My extended weekend (in one week!) to my most favorite place on the Oregon Coast, John Green's new book on the 10th (officially) The Fault in Our Stars, Thanksgiving in January, and getting to see John Green on the 29th!

More than anything though, what I'm appreciating most about this new month in this new year, is time. 2011 taught me a very important lesson in how much can be done with the time you have. In 2012 I hope to put that lesson into practice. I am looking forward to seeing all that I can accomplish.

The first book I will finish in 2012

21 November 2011

Occupy NaNoWriMo 2011 (Day 21, 42339 Words)

This morning there is an aggressive wind whipping the trees and the wind chimes. Occasionally it picks up some rain and slaps it against the windows. I feel lucky to be inside, where it is warm and dry and I am wrapped in a blanket and surrounded by books and music. I have a hot cup of coffee and my stomach isn't hungry. I recognize how fortunate I am. I have much to be thankful for.

I read an article that Neil Gaiman had linked on twitter earlier this morning regarding the recent confrontation between the police and the students at UC Davis. (find it here) Regardless of where you stand on the Occupy Movement, it is a smart article that brings up some interesting points about how the protesters are being treated by the police and how this is different than what has worked for decades. I am left wondering what the hell is going on and why.

This has caused me to think a great deal about my book. I already have a pretty big social/political issue that has worked its way into this draft (and will have to be integrated into the first part from last year), but as I think about my characters, who they are, where they are, when they are, and how old they are...well, I am finding it harder and harder to imagine that they wouldn't at least be talking about what's going on in the world and on campuses nationwide.

I think about Matthew Norman's Domestic Violets (just buy it already) and how the economic crisis wasn't in the first draft. I think about how much it shaped the story, how different it would have been without it. The book would have been completely different and well, frankly, not as good.

There is much that comes out of the editing process (the ever lovely Maureen Johnson has a few words to say about this) and I am really looking forward to January, after some time away, to really sit down and see what comes of the next draft.

"One day I left my room, in the evening. It was freezing, the sidewalk shining. But it was okay. I wasn't lonely. I wasn't no one. I was just hoping for a bookstore like the one I prayed for and the music they play there would be Dinosaur Jr. and the people who worked there would be super skinny and super unfriendly and that would make me happy. That would make me happy."
          from Myopic Books by American Music Club

09 November 2011

NaNoWriMo 2011: Influences (Day 9, 15,222 Words)

Apparently it doesn't matter if I go to bed at 10pm or 1am, I can't sleep past The New 6am.

It's painful and it's going to make this an even longer day...though the possibility of a nap exists in my peripheral view...I just need to get some words out first and spend time with a good friend and her beautiful new daughter.

Yesterday was definitely one of those exceptional days, one of those days that don't come often. It is an evening, short of a mental disorder, that I will never, ever forget.

I'm not certain if I'm yet equipped with words to describe what made the night so exceptional, what made the morning such a brilliant prelude, but I feel the pull to at least attempt something.

There was one point I was standing in the Body Worlds exhibit, observing this library of our physicality, our humanity, and I literally read the writing on the wall. It was an explanation of some of the ways music affects the brain. This is something that has always fascinated me, having always been drawn so completely into the world of music.

Music has saved my life, my sanity, my hope, so many times and in so many ways. It assures and comforts me, knowing there is a scientific explanation for this, though I'm not certain why.

To say there was an unhappy period of my childhood, does not really do it justice. When I was young, to drown out the sounds of adults fighting, I would crawl under the covers with my Walkman and put on my headphones, turning the volume dial up until I could no longer hear the shouting.

Last night Amanda Palmer talked about Influences. It's a question musicians (and writers and other artists) get asked often during interviews. She talked about how she had recently realized there was someone she had left out of her list, Judy Blume. She sang us a song she had written about Judy Blume that sent shivers through my body and welled tears in my eyes.

I would not be the person, the writer I am today, without the influences of Madonna and Amy Grant. I know that those two don't often end up often listed together, but there it is. It's who I am.

I have been influenced as much by music as I have by books and it's always fascinating for me when one artist crosses over from one side to the other...like Josh Ritter writing a novel or Neil Gaiman singing (and writing) songs.

When I was a senior in college, I was approached by a student in a Music Composition class, asking if they could use a poem I had published in the Literary Arts magazine the year before. I said yes, feeling quite proud. When I went to the recital to hear it performed I was quite surprised to find there was another student who had also chosen the same poem to write music for. Having never possessed the ability to compose myself, I was fascinated to hear how two different people interpreted my words.

As a child, I always felt drawn to the piano keyboard, even though I played the violin and sang in choirs. By the time I reached high school, I had abandoned both the violin and singing, but I still felt drawn to the piano. It wasn't until college that I fully realized that the keyboard I was meant to play was a QWERTY one.

I adore the rhythm, the tapping of my fingers on the keys, as I attempt to write my own music. It feels like home.

"I want you and I want you to want me to want you. But I don't need you, don't need you to need me to need you. That's just me, so take me or leave me, but please don't need me, don't need me to need you to need me. 'Cause we're here one minute, the next we're dead, so love me and leave me, but try not to need me, enough said. I want you, but I don't need you."
                      from I Want You, But I Don't Need You, Amanda Palmer (cover of song by Momus)

Amanda Palmer and (a faceless) Neil Gaiman at The Aladdin, November 8th, 2011


08 November 2011

NaNoWriMo 2011 (Day 7 and into Day 8, 14,465)


The writing has been going well. Really well. I can't believe how lucky I have been. Each day I sit down at the computer and open up my Word document and begin. Sometimes, it's very slow going at first and sometimes my fingers (and I'm a pretty decent typist) can barely keep up with the words springing forth.



I love, love, love how this story is slowly revealing itself to me. Each day, something new happens, something that I didn't plan, something I didn't know was coming. Sometimes it's a big something (I have a great deal of rewrites to do and integrate into the previous book!) and sometimes it's just a smaller insight into a character. I am enjoying it all so much that I don't even mind waking up at 6am (on vacation, no less!) so I can start my writing day.


Today is an exceptionally full (birth)day. In a few hours there will be breakfast with friends followed by a tour of the visiting Body Worlds exhibit and then later there is An Evening with Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer at the Aladdin. I am so looking forward to these events and am curious to see how they inspire me in the coming days.


I am a lucky girl indeed.




Behind That Locked Door

Why are you still crying?
Your pain is now through
Please forget those teardrops
Let me take them from you

The love you are blessed with

This world's waiting for
So let out your heart, please, please
From behind that locked door

It's time we start smiling

What else should we do?
With only this short time
I'm gonna be here with you

And the tales you have taught me

From the things that you saw
Makes me want out your heart, please, please
From behind that locked door

And if ever my love goes

If I'm rich or I'm poor
Please let out my heart, please, please
From behind that locked door

From behind that locked door


-George Harrison

Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman