My Author is an awesome Author.
He is the one true Author.
His name is Neil Gaiman.
We worship Neil as the creator of all things dark and mythical. Maybe Angela Carter started it, but she rarely writes sex scenes and she uses big words. So we have turned our worship to the more accessible Author. Also the One who does not Require Yon Dictionary.
There are those who refuse to turn into His light. Their heretical words, their speeches about Gaiman’s writing turning hackneyed after Sandman and Neverwhere, their rebuff towards his faction, we who would follow Him to the ends of the earth, much like Shabtai Tsvih’s loyal followers (except that pesky cliff got in the way and everyone went splat).
We of the Gaiman faith must find these non-believers, fight for their hearts, and if they are not given freely then we must take these heartsand spear them upon sharp pointy sticks, crusade style. As it is written, so it shall be.
As David, King of Israel once said, “the fear of the Gaiman is the beginning of knowledge. Shall not thee purchase Coraline?”
Therefore I present my letters, my psalms to Neil and the parish of all things Gaiman. Oh great, oh holy, oh British lover of all things crumpety.
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Dear Neil,
I was re-reading a biography I have of you. It’s a little torn because I like to sleep with it on cold lonely nights–anyways I was thinking about the fact that you live in Minnesota. That brings up an important literary question for you:
Do you think that Mr. and Mrs. Walsh should have moved to Beverley Hills 90210? I know you’re not a native, but I’m sure you have some insight into why Brenda became such a bitch.
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Dear Neil,
Today I picked up American Gods. My delight became short winded, however as the schmuck behind the book counter started reaming in on how you were just overblown and you ripped off other writers. He pounced on the much-loved Smoke and Mirrors and said, “It’s shameful! There are about 5000 references to HP Lovecraft in that book. Not counting the reviewers!”
I leaned in, not to let the reverence of Neil Gaiman be shut out by this pompous twit.
“I’ll have you know,” I hissed. “He only references Lovecraft 399 times!”
I’d do anything for you, Neil!
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Neil,
A lot of writers just aren’t as personable as you. You have your online journal, your friendly interviews, conventions (Marvel press conference, Hawaii Writer’s Conference, Inkwell,.vue, WLA, Big Lots grand opening in Rapid City North Dakota) I love how you mingle with the lower classes. Are you sure you’re British?
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Neil,
They say simplicity is best, and you prove it ten-fold! Take your main character in American Gods who is only the shadow of the man he once was. You name him Shadow! That is so brilliant! Now I can focus on the real excitement in the book. Descriptions of the American Midwest!!!! You’re the best.
———-
Dear Neil,
Wow. Wow! WOW! I just finished American Gods and what a ride!
All I can say is Mad Sweeney is totally awesome!
A seven foot tall leprechaun who doesn’t drink Guinness but prefers Southern Comfort and Coke?! That is so original! Is Mad Sweeney also more akin to snowboarding than making shoes?
Neil you really break the mold when it comes to reinventing mythology. You raise the question “why don’t more people respect Irish culture?”, especially when naming a giant leprechaun after an insane seventh century king who lived the remainder of his life naked in treetops.
I totally think you should have had a Banshee in American Gods. Except instead of representing the triple aspects of the Celtic goddess of war and death, she’d be the lead singer of the heavy metal Goth band The Wailers. Cool!
———-
Neil,
I’m re-reading Stardust because I misplaced the Sunday comics (that Garfield sure loves lasagna!).
My favorite passage so far is, “Through the gap in the wall can be seen a large green meadow; beyond the meadow, a stream; and beyond the stream there are trees.” Redundancy is important in writing a young adult novel, as those in the age rage of 13-16 are exceptionally slow-witted.
Also, thank you for the graphic sex scene on page 38. Kids gotta learn sometime, right?
———-
Dear Neil,
I discovered something momentously disturbing. There are no “I hate Neil Gaiman” websites! What the hell?! As an American I know that ones popularity is only equal to how many people want to disembowel you and use your skin as a lampshade.
People hate Anne Rice, people hate Clive Barker and people hate Stephen King.
Are you not good enough to be hated?
Neil I will give you the worship you so deserve! I will begin immediately in constructing my own “I hate Neil Gaiman” webpage, so that you are once and for all vaulted to the idol status of all those lesser writers.
It is my duty, Neil.
And now, Oh Gaiman of Portchester, let your word take the infidels to Worldcon 2010, where they will buy many things, even MirrorMask…
CELEBRITY REBUTTAL: DAVID, KING OF ISRAEL
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Surely this Gaiman, this man of the Britannia Isles is as great as I, King David! I, who settled in Judah, who tried to rule from Jebus, but was halted in my crusade from those damn jabber jaw Jebusites. I conquered with my might and muscle. And also my lovely tenor voice because also I’m a musician you know. I’m not all hulk and brawn. I have feelings. Didn’t you kids ever read the fucking Bible? I brought down Goliath with my mighty sling way before Bart Simpson ever busted out with his fucking skateboard. What happened to fucking respect for history you asshats?
Screw this; I’m going to go read Good Omens.
———-
Frequent target of fallen angels, Eileen hides from their seductive wrath in the hallowed confines of Defenestration HQ, where she hopes to erect a wall of words between herself and the forces of evil.