Broken Frontier

Luckily, no one was sitting opposite me at the breakfast table on Sunday January 22, when I read in the Philadelphia Inquirer that Neil Gaiman was going to be reading at Temple University on that Thursday. It would have been embarrassing to have to explain to someone that they got a face full of orange juice because the guy that wrote Sandman was coming to town, but I’m fairly certain that I’m not the only one that this could have happened to. And I’m fairly certain that I’m not the only one who would immediately make plans to attend. I called and asked around to see if anyone else would like to go, and finalized plans.

So Thursday after work, after a quick stop at my local comic shop Brave New Worlds to pick up my buddy Rob, we headed down to check it out. After arriving about an hour and a half early, we decided to take a look at the venue to see how the seating arrangement was and to make sure that there was no line. We’ve both been to conventions before and knew how someone like Gaiman would command a big audience. Upon peeking in we saw just a few people in the front with a great availability of chairs. It was at that point we both realized that we hadn't eaten and might not get out of the event until much later, so we headed down the street to the Draught Horse, one of Temple's main eating and drinking establishments. Since I was going to see famous Brit Neil Gaiman, I decided that the only thing for me to do was to get a pint or two of Guinness with my meal. (Note for everyone, I just admitted to my editors that a mere hour before covering an event, I was in a bar drinking.)

The Draught Horse is a nice little college bar, clean, with an ample supply of entertainment. In fact, it became increasingly harder to leave the bar once we discovered that a classic Nintendo tournament was taking place in that same bar at 9PM. But with Mr. Gaiman scheduled to go on at 8PM, it was going to be really hard to get to both events. And since Neil Gaiman may not do another of these in such close proximity to myself, I decided to put away my Video Game Geek Hat in favor of remaining in my Comic Book Geek garb. So, after finishing up my meal and somehow surviving some of the best (worst?) karaoke singers ever (note to Karaoke singers, if you’re going to sing Superstar, sing the old Carpenters version and not the newer Luthor Vandross version), I headed down to Mitten Hall to see one of the greats talk.

Now up until this point the only thing I knew for sure is that Neil Gaiman was going to be there. There was no real schedule of events. No one could tell me for sure what he was reading, if he was going to take questions, and most importantly for the fanboy inside of me, whether or not he would be signing anything. But just to be prepared, I brought along a camera, a notepad, and 2 of my favorite Gaiman books (P. Craig Russell's adaptation of Murder Mysteries and Sandman Volume 7, Brief Lives). Upon arriving back in the lecture hall, still about a half hour before the scheduled speaking, people finally had started to arrive. Rob and I argued a bit about what would be the prominent crowd. Being someone who works in a comic book store, he made an interesting point about the “Gothic Crowd” not being as prominent anymore. 

“They’ve all grown up man. They can’t leave work and quickly get back into Goth-Gear before coming down. They’d have to leave early to have enough time to put on their eyeliner… Well, either that or it’s just not Goth-Cool to read comics anymore.”

He made a good point. Not that I knew anybody who considered themselves “Goth” anymore, so I just began checking people as they came in. And to Rob’s credit, there were no real “Goth’s” there. In fact, you were just as likely to turn around and see a button down shirt as you were to see a nose piercing. I scanned the crowd to see who else had brought books. Rob decided that all of his Gaiman books were too used to matter if they were signed, but it looked like the majority of the crowd had thought the same as me. There were some issues of Sandman, a few trades, but the majority of the people in the audience had copies of Anansi Boys (it wasn’t until later that I learned they were selling copies of the book at the front). By 8:00 all the seats in the house were full and all the conversations died down when everyone noticed Gaiman walk in with some of the temple hosts and sit down in the front row. It’s fairly impressive actually, when Joe Quesada walks into a room everyone cheers. It’s as if Joe is one of us who made it and we cheer him on. Most other comic professionals working for the Big 2 would elicit a similar response. But when Neil Gaiman walks into a room, everyone gets quiet. Not simply out of respect, but more as a sense of awe. And we all sat in silence waiting to see just what this master storyteller would be blessing us with tonight.

After the silence went on for a bit, a female member of the Temple faculty stepped to the podium.

“Welcome to the first of Temple’s Poets and Writers Spring series of readings by recognized and emerging authors…” She then read through more of the promotional material. I was impressed at the wherewithal of the Temple Creative Writing department to get someone like Gaiman, who isn’t too famous as to be unattainable, yet is popular enough to generate a good turnout for their first reading of the semester. “First, as is tradition, there will be a reading by an emerging Temple Creative Writing student, then Mr. Gaiman will read a piece of poetry and a short story, followed by a Q&A period, and a signing. Due to the amount of people in attendance, Mr. Gaiman will only be signing one item per person.”

 “Good thing I brought you then.” I leaned over and said to Rob. Happy that he was nice enough to agree to get my other book signed for me. We agreed that he would get Brief Lives signed since he had yet to read the adaptation of Murder Mysteries. And then we watched as Temple Professor and noted novelist Samuel Delaney walked to the podium to introduce the readers.

Delaney went about introducing Dylan Parrotta, a 2nd year graduate student in the Temple Creative Writing department. Delaney introduced his writing style as one that used setting to help define his characters, and had become known throughout the department for his “over the top horror.” This seemed to embarrass Dylan a bit, as the first thing he did when he stepped to the podium was to explain how this particular story was highlighted by neither setting nor over the top horror. His nerves were shown very early, as he began to rush through his reading. It was a fairly cliché piece of student fiction, one that began with “8AM, the alarm went off…” and you could immediately guess what the ending was going to be. But Parrotta showed some of the promise that would lead Temple to have him read before Neil Gaiman, as he included some humorous observations within the story. He never did seem to catch his pacing though and he seemed to run through his given story in well under the time he was given. The crowd applauded as Parratto finished and left the stage. And then it was time for Samuel Delaney to come up the podium and introduce the man we all came to see.

Delaney once again gave an excellent introduction. He spoke of how Neil Gaiman was one of the authors that people need to read. How once someone reads one Gaiman story, they have to read everything else he’s written. Delaney even showed some surprising comic book knowledge, moving past simply crediting The Sandman for Gaiman’s success, and saying that all it took was his first few issues of Miracleman, the famed Golden Age arc, to know how great he was. Delaney spoke about how the story existed in a world where one man had made anything and everything possible, and yet Gaiman still managed to make it mesmerizing. And after he was done saying all these things, Neil Gaiman stood up from his chair, walked to the podium, poured himself a glass of water, and prepared to speak.

The difference between Dylan Parrotta and Neil Gaiman’s experience was evident immediately. Gaiman was sure and confident. His timing was excellent. He spoke quickly about the two pieces he was going to read. One was a poem he had recently been asked to write for a website, it was only written a few weeks ago and I felt a selfish smile creep over my face when I learned that I was to be one of the first people who would hear it. The second piece he planned on reading was a short story, which enabled him to make a joke about publishing schedules. The poem was written a few weeks ago and would be published in a month’s time, and the story, written a few months ago, was not to be published until 2007.

“I’ll be reading the poem first, because my daughter, who is in attendance, has already heard the short story and I don’t want her to miss anything new if she falls asleep.”

(Note – I’m doing whatever I can to discuss the stories without giving them away. I know how much I hate unwanted spoilers and wouldn’t want to do that to anyone else.)

Only someone like Neil Gaiman could make a comment like that and still have the entire audience in the palm of his hand. He began reading his poem, “The Day the Saucers Came” and once again, his sense of timing and enunciation proved that he was someone who had done this before and was confident in his abilities. His accent added a sense of charm and regality; it highlighted a sense of wit and whimsy; and it seemed impossible not to smile while listening to him talk. Of course, it was also easy to smile because the poem showcased his wit. He would build a theme to the detailed and satirical extreme, then turnaround and build another one out to the same levels. And when he had finally built through enough of them he flipped it completely around and gave an ending completely unrelated but exceptionally acceptable as a response. Hearing this poem reminded me of the comedic timing of the poems I read as a youth. Sort of like a non-rhyming, adult version of a Shel Silverstein poem. With a poem that was funny and filled with wonderful descriptions, Gaiman quickly reminded his audience just why he held them so firmly in the palm of his hand.

After the applause died down after he finished his poem, Gaiman started on with his short story. He claimed that, like his poem, this one was also a science fiction story. Based simply on the title, “How to Talk to Girls at Parties” many men would agree. It was a funny anecdotal tale, one told as a sense of flashback, as the narrator was reminiscing about attending a party in his youth. It was told with a cynical narrator, one who was as pessimistic as he was unwilling to really make his own decisions. He paired the narrator with one who was his exact opposite, which only served to highlight the differences and humor in their contrast. Gaiman was enthusiastic without going overboard, and he remained stationary at the podium, aside from a few instances where a hand motion would accentuate the reading.

The story itself was vintage Gaiman. It was a science fiction story in which the characters couldn’t tell it was anything less than real. He somehow managed to capture real boy/girl interactions, even in a story where they weren’t exactly real. His descriptions were brilliant and once again he had everyone waiting on his every word. You could feel everything that was happening in the story. And possibly most impressive, Gaiman showed a real sense of professionalism and did not stall at all when a nearby room let out and some discussion threatened to overpower the famous speaker.

When he came to the end of his story, leaving everyone in the audience in awe, and enthralled with this British man who had been reading to us, we all showed our appreciation with a loud sustained applause. But this is a man who lives up to his modest reputation, and he announced to the audience that he would be answering some questions after he refilled his glass of water.

If Gaiman’s accent and oratory skills helped to showcase his stories, it was even more effective in creating a real sense of honesty and almost family in the way he dealt one on one with the members of the audience. The questions also highlighted the contrast in the people who were present, ranging from comic books and film to the creative process itself.

The first question asked him to describe his memory, which he best described as “bloody worthless for game shows and anything other than writing fiction.” He explained how he normally has to answer “it was from that book with a red cover” or more accurately nowadays “it was the website with the gray border,” when asked where he saw something, only to finally remember the actual answer in bed at 2AM.

The next two questions were comic book related questions, that, in a sense, showed how different some fans were as one showed a great deal of knowledge of the “rumor mill” while the other one showed a lack of it. First he was asked about his next project with Marvel, and as Rob and myself wondered how no one could know this (and even Gaiman himself showed some surprise), Neil explained that his next work would be the already announced Eternals project. Although he still could not announce the artist, Gaiman did tell a funny anecdote about how he had originally come up with a complete plot for the story, only to then read through what Marvel has done with the character since Jack Kirby (“The made Cerci an Avenger?!?”), causing him to have to start all over in story preparations. The second comic book related question caused Gaiman to comment aloud about how fast the rumor mill works sometimes, as he did confirm he and Roger Avery were meeting with some Hollywood producers to talk about adapting Charles Burns’ Black Hole.

Next Gaiman was asked what the favorite story he had written was. This was the one question that actually seemed to give him trouble as he attempted to come up with an answer that pleased him. He spoke about how it was normally the stories that didn’t become popular; the small ones that didn’t make it that he loved the most. He did credit Mr. Punch as his best Graphic Novel, Sandman #50 as his best single story, and a small forgotten story entitled Bitter Grounds, from a Mojo Conjure Stories Anthology as his favorite short story.

Then, just as he answered to comic book specific questions, Gaiman took 2 questions that concerned his prose work. One member of the audience asked why he named a character in Neverwhere after one from Puss N Boots. He replied that it fit the character well; he was a self made man, so he should be self named, and the only name he would chose would be something like the Marquis de Carabas. The next question was one that was not only specific to a book, but also specific to the location that he was speaking, as someone asked “In American Gods, why did Thor kill himself in a hotel in Philadelphia in 1932?” Gaiman laughed at this question and said that to really answer it he would have to write another book.

As if continuing to luck out and answer questions that worked in pairs, the net two questions dealt with working solo vs. working in collaboration and how he decides the format that is best for each story idea. Gaiman said that working solo “was always fun until it stops working… Because then nothing happens.” He compared that to working in collaboration, where he could write until he ran out of ideas, but then got to hand the work off to someone else. In terms of deciding on format, Gaiman said it was just however he visualized the story and that he wasn’t always good at deciding, pointing out the example that Anansi Boys started out as a film.

Finally, Gaiman answered 2 questions about working with characters that he had not created. He said that it was fun, but that respect must always be paid to where the characters came from. He shared an anecdote about when Dreamworks asked him to change the ending of the Rama & Sita story, something that is very important to the Hindu religion, and he would not do it. He also compared working in someone else’s universe as being allowed to play in someone’s sandbox. You get to play with their toys, but you must follow the rules and not leave them in an unexpected position. Some you take and shine up, some you can dirty, some you can even break, and some you can fix, but you always have to follow the rules.

And with that, Gaiman has finished his lecture and got ready to sign autographs, as I took off my intellectual hat and went into complete fanboy mode.

Coming Soon: Part 2 – Fanboy Moments

For information about Temple’s Poets and Writers Series as well as any information about the Creative Writing Department, contact: Temple University, Creative Writing Program - 215.204.1796; creatwrt@temple.edu; www.temple.edu/creativewriting/events