Luna

There are just some moments when you really know that you should have brought a tape recorder. Saturday was one of them. We saw Neil Gaiman in Charlotte, and he read two poems, one entitled "Crazy Hair", and a story he'd written 20 years ago. He's an amazing reader. And a generally nice guy. They were well over the 344 person capacity in the very scary little theatre they'd booked him into, tho. And by the time we'd gotten to where we could actually see him in the signing line (around an hour and a half), it was down to having only one thing signed. The limited edition of Coraline, of course. And he drew a mouse in it.

Still and all, I think the "organizers" should be chopped into tiny bits and jumped on until they're sorry. He reads, there's some Q&A, and then they announce that he'll be signing things in the lobby. You know, out the back way. So we all sharpened our elbows and made a rush for it into this mad crush of people so densly packed you expected an event horizon on it. By the time it had straightened out to a single-ish line, I felt that I knew the person in front of me _very_ well. His slightly sweaty back, anyway.

This was our first trip to Charlotte, too. The International Newstand bookstore was pretty neat. They had 4 of Karen Taylor's Vampire Legacy series (why is it they can't have 2 and 3 in the series?), which are mostly out of print. That's about it for neat, really. Everything else was pretty disorganized, and the Days Inn on Tryon road was the second worst hotel I've ever been in. Really. You do NOT want to see the place we lovingly dubbed "The Hunter S. Thompson Motel". The Days Inn had a badly-patched hole in the wall, contact paper instead of wall paper, and, my favorite, was apparently BYOSH (bring your own shower head). It gave a mist, not a shower. Great if you're a tree frog, bad if you wanted to wash your hair. Bleh. And a true sign of quality is when the TV guide is from last month and the remote is on a cable.

But seeing Gaiman was pretty well worth most of it. I also learned that it's apparently some hidden city ordinance that all book stores must have a cat, in a basket if possible. Who knew?

Currently Reading: Blood Secrets, by Karen E. Taylor

Recommend: Blood Secrets

Stories out: 1




	Luna My Journal Home Get Email Updates Andreas Black Memory 39 Jason Lundberg Janrae Email Me Admin Password Remember Me 161032 Curiosities served Share on Facebook				2003-10-20 8:23 PM Neil Gaiman Previous Entry :: Next Entry Mood: slightly spiffed Read/Post Comments (0) There are just some moments when you really know that you should have brought a tape recorder. Saturday was one of them. We saw Neil Gaiman in Charlotte, and he read two poems, one entitled "Crazy Hair", and a story he'd written 20 years ago. He's an amazing reader. And a generally nice guy. They were well over the 344 person capacity in the very scary little theatre they'd booked him into, tho. And by the time we'd gotten to where we could actually see him in the signing line (around an hour and a half), it was down to having only one thing signed. The limited edition of Coraline, of course. And he drew a mouse in it. Still and all, I think the "organizers" should be chopped into tiny bits and jumped on until they're sorry. He reads, there's some Q&A, and then they announce that he'll be signing things in the lobby. You know, out the back way. So we all sharpened our elbows and made a rush for it into this mad crush of people so densly packed you expected an event horizon on it. By the time it had straightened out to a single-ish line, I felt that I knew the person in front of me _very_ well. His slightly sweaty back, anyway. This was our first trip to Charlotte, too. The International Newstand bookstore was pretty neat. They had 4 of Karen Taylor's Vampire Legacy series (why is it they can't have 2 and 3 in the series?), which are mostly out of print. That's about it for neat, really. Everything else was pretty disorganized, and the Days Inn on Tryon road was the second worst hotel I've ever been in. Really. You do NOT want to see the place we lovingly dubbed "The Hunter S. Thompson Motel". The Days Inn had a badly-patched hole in the wall, contact paper instead of wall paper, and, my favorite, was apparently BYOSH (bring your own shower head). It gave a mist, not a shower. Great if you're a tree frog, bad if you wanted to wash your hair. Bleh. And a true sign of quality is when the TV guide is from last month and the remote is on a cable. But seeing Gaiman was pretty well worth most of it. I also learned that it's apparently some hidden city ordinance that all book stores must have a cat, in a basket if possible. Who knew? Currently Reading: Blood Secrets, by Karen E. Taylor Recommend: Blood Secrets Stories out: 1 Read/Post Comments (0) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top