Tuesday

[books] "When novel and author stop being polite...

...and start getting real." This is the Real World: Writing. Neil Gaiman is rapidly losing his mind. Recent posts to his online journal center around wrestling imaginary bears, bipolar ups and downs and the following:

"Only...

Only What Happens in the last part of the book is all different now. It feels more like What Happens than what I thought happened in the last half of the book when I started writing this (or, er, this morning). But...

AAARRGH."

He's losing it. The man is losing it. The book sounds to be about 75% done and the honeymoon's well over. At the beginning, when Neil was meeting all his new characters and discovering what they're about, it was all rainbows over a marzipan landscape of smiles and hugs. Now I get the impression he hasn't washed in a while and he's blaming the book. White skin, sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, beard and an insane smile- he looks at himself in a full length mirror, whirls around to face the book and shouts around flecks of spittle flying from his mouth, "How dare you do this to me! I created you and look what you've done! You'll pay for this!" Clackitty clackitty clack on the keyboard (or, scribble scribble on the legal pad as is the case with Neil).

Can't wait for the book, Neil. Hurry up.

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