after eight dollars, two frantic cab rides, dashing up seven escalators (not knowing if i had the right venue), enduring the pee-like smell welling up from the orchard cineleisure floor, dropping the house key and having to kneel on said floor to retrieve it, wiping drippy black gunk off my knees with free wet wipes from some singaporean anti-drug society, fretting over having none of my or my sister's books of his to sign, buying a brand-new coraline, listening to his dry brit humor, watching clips of mirrormask, marveling at a relatively dead crowd and pining for manila, and waiting patiently at the second-to-the-last row of the cinema for two hours, i came face to face the man behind the king of dreams.
neil gaiman was visibly drained from two hours of 'scrawling as if his life depended on it' (his words), but he was absolutely gracious and well-mannered. obviously he's done this many, many times before. he greeted me with a smile and thanked me for waiting for so long. (maybe he should have thanked me for not cutting in line.) i presented him with a slip of cardboard bearing my name, and introduced myself. "what a lovely name," he murmured, and proceeded to scrawl it, using a blue ballpoint pen, onto the first page of my brand-new coraline.
below my name, a loopy, unrecognizable creature began to emerge. "and that is--?" i asked. i was then possessed by the urge to clap my hand over my mouth. i had just made it obvious to this man that he should stick to writing and leave the drawing to artists. to borrow a phrase from rina diva: die, taklesa, die!
he chuckled wryly. "that is a mouse after two hours of signing."
he topped off the whole thing with a large signature, and gamely posed for a photo with me. when i thanked him, he replied, "you're quite welcome."
so, jeline, to confirm reports: yes, he's very nice. no, he's not smelly. i didn't think to sniff while at his side, but if he had any objectionable odors, i would have smelt them from where i was standing.
all hail the king of dreams. i wish i could be at the manila gathering. that would be so much more fun. i can only imagine the raucous cheers when he first emerges, and after every clip of mirrormask. (will they even show this at home, though?)
this entry should be called stalking gaiman, day 1. i'm going back to orchard for his free talk later, and to get more of marlon's books signed.
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so, my slovenian friends. you now outnumber the visitors from my own country. what do i have to say to get you folks to speak up? ;-)
