strange and random happenstance

Oh, Lucifer, you devil. Or should I say, oh, Tom Ellis, you devil. Because the number one reason I first turned into Lucifer three seasons ago was because of Tom Ellis. As Gary on Miranda Hart's TV Series Miranda, he was the loveable yet romantically inept cook who won Miranda's heart and hand. Yes I enjoyed him on Merlin as well, but as for The Secret of Crickley Hall, a miniseries with so many of my favorite actors that I thought I would love it, well, it's best avoided, as I realized once again late one night recently catching part of an episode on PBS. But surely, you're thinking, that I MUST have really turned into the show because it's based on Neil Gaiman's interpretation of Lucifer Morningstar in his Sandman comics? Honestly? No. And to now shock you further, while I love Neil Gaiman, and I adored his voicing of God in the season three bonus episode set in an alternate timeline, "Once Upon a Time," I can't stand the Sandman comics. I've tried people, I've really tried. But I just couldn't take anymore after the sixth collection and now it's been six years since I read those six volumes and I'd have to re-read them before finishing the final four volumes, and I'm sorry, there are just too many other books I want to read. Some of them even by Neil! Back to the show. Lucifer is a wonderfully almost wacky reinterpretation of what a procedural show can be, what with Lucifer's brother trying to get him to go back to hell, Lucifer's therapist who after thinking for a very long time that Lucifer was delusional, now gets that this is all too real. There are demons and love interests, and an ex who really loves his pudding. I mean, seriously, Dan loves his pudding. When Netlfix saved the Satan, I don't think my heart could have been happier.      

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Adaptation, Alternate History, And the Emmy Goes To, Comics, Lucifer, Merlin, Miranda, Miranda Hart, Neil Gaiman, Netflix, PBS, Procedural, Pudding, Salvation, Sandman, The Secret of Crickley Hall, Tom Ellis

"Mister Gaiman. You should hear this toast in my flat middle western, slightly southern accent. I speak quite quick. Perhaps even fast. But my first words, Missssssttttteeerrr Gaaaaaaaimannn are slow and deliberate.

Quite odd indeed.

I should, from the start, say that I met you in graphic novels. That I was a nerdy girl pretending to be a cool nerdy girl and I wanted a comic because I am a painter and yet nothing ever appealed to me. Until Sandman.

And many hundreds of hours and mugs of strong tea and thick lattes later, you became one of my top five.

But many more eloquent writers and readers than me will talk about Sandman.

I should say I’ve read and listened to both versions of American Gods, and while I enjoy Coraline and Neverworld and The Ocean at the End of the Lane better, American Gods is a perfect book. And yet I am sure one of my friends will toast you with some little known mead and the perfect synopsis of why the tenth anniversary is indeed a better choice.

Best leave it.

Instead I want to celebrate the fact that as I write this, it is not my own voice I hear in my head (as usually I do when I write) but yours. I should find this curious but I do not. While I have read practically everything you’ve written (with the exception of the sneezing Panda books that I am saving for my soon to be niece or nephew), I have also listened to everything you’ve written.

For example, at this moment, both “A Study in Emerald,” “Wolves in the Walls,” and “Coraline,” are all downloaded in my phone. For that matter, so is “The View from the Cheap Seats.” I pick a chapter when I want to think about a writer or an idea. I pick a story when I want to be scared or entertained or frankly soothed.

But most of all?

It’s the way you tell your stories aloud. Neither reading nor performing, but telling.

I feel small and unaccountable excited as you spin out anything - interviewing Stephen King, introducing me to Dianna Wynn Jones (for which I will be always grateful), the kittens! that appear like Capra’s crows in so many books, although I did cry when the Opal Miner killed the narrator’s kitten in Ocean - and it reminds my of why books are magic. Of how hearing something I love makes my chest tight and my breath fast. How there can always be new worlds, even in the most boring of places. How books can be stories and stories are told.

Still it is your voice in my head and I think of this idea of the story. A tale you can tell for the simple and complex enjoyment of hearing it. And then I hear you read Neverwhere, and I believe, absolutely believe, that possibly this story is at least a teensy bit real. “I mean, maybe I am crazy. I mean, maybe. But if this is all there is, then I don't want to be sane.” I wanted to live in the London of two Londons. Of Ming China eating terrible scary men and bumbling heroes making it up as they go along. I never wanted it to end.

Except I definitely wanted to find out how it would end up.

So as I toast you, mug of hot chocolate in my hand, I imagine you sitting on a chair next to my bed or at the other end of the couch from me, and I know I need only wait for you to take a breath.

Then you will tell me a story.

And I will listen with a kitten on my lap.

Gaiman readers one and all, be upstanding, raise your mugs of cocoa and give thanks one and all to Mr. Gaiman’s telling of the story.

Which absolutely beats toasting the Haggis in Gaelic." - Courtney

Courtney and I have actually never met in person, but in this day and age what does that really mean? Like many of my book loving friends I first became aware of Courtney through The Rory Gilmore Book Club on Goodreads, but it wasn't until one of our mutual friends insisted we get to know each other better that we noticed a similar taste in books and television. In fact just in requesting this Gaiman toast from her I might have reignited her addiction to Helen Fielding which I also suffer from. But it is her love of the mystical and magical and Gothic that made me know my Gaiman Gala wouldn't be the same without her.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Study in Emerald, American Gods, Cats, Coraline, Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Toast, Goodreads, Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere, Sandman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, The View from the Cheap Seats, Wolves in the Walls

"Neil Gaiman is such a cultural badass that an entire race on Babylon 5 was named after him. The Gaim Intelligence* was the collective name for the monarchy made up of the six Gaim Queens, each of which control their own specific territories on their homeworld of N'chak'fah. I think we can all read between the lines on that one! Well played, Neil." - Aaron

*The masks of The Gaim Intelligence were designed to strongly resemble the mask of Dream, the titular character in Gaiman's graphic novel The Sandman. 

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Clockwork Iris, Babylon 5, Book Clubs, Dream, Gaim Intelligence, Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Toast, George Mann, MKUltra, Neil Gaiman, Obverse Books, Paul Magrs, Sandman, The Last Word, The Woman Who Sold the Moon

 
"I would like to toast the author that brought something magical and fantastic to the comic book industry! I remember the first time I picked up a Sandman comic. It was the early 90’s, I was a teen in high school, with a growing obsession with comic books and comic book artists. Sandman was like nothing I had ever read before. Instead of panels of beefed up heroes duking it out, it was filled with stories of fantasy, and magic. There were also these beautiful insights into the character’s relationships with each other, their own personal discoveries and trials. I was hooked! Neil Gaiman, thank you for bringing that to the world." - Janice

You'd think meeting two of my favorite authors at a reading at TeslaCon would have been the highlight of that weekend, but really it was meeting Janice. Since we met all those years ago Janice continually astounds me by being quite literally the sweetest, kindest, and most generous person I have ever met and I am lucky to call her my friend. A consummate host who welcomes you into her home with open arms. As if that weren't enough she is also one of the most talented and creative people I know. From creating costumes to doing faceups to making the most amazing monsters for her company Sew Sweet Monsters. A true artist working with felt and fur.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Artist, Comics, Fantasy, Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Toast, Magic, Neil Gaiman, Sandman, Sew Sweet Monsters, Superhero, Teslacon

Stardust was the second book by Neil Gaiman that I read. It's probably not his most well known piece, people tending to favor his more popular works from American Gods to The Sandman. Stardust is kind of somewhere inbetween with fairies and stars fallen to earth. And the truth is, I can see why people just aren't as engaged with it because I spent the entire afternoon one dark and dreary December 31st trying to finish it so that I could start the new year with a fresh new book, something miles away from Stardust. I couldn't bear the thought of having this book hanging over me at the start of another year. Yet I'm not here to talk about my dissatisfaction with the book, I'm here to talk about the movie that came out over two years later in the summer of 2007. Because I had disliked the book so thoroughly I oddly had no expectations of the movie. I literally was just excited to see so many British actors I loved from television on the big screen, from Henry Cavill to Nathaniel Parker, Jason Flemyng to Mark Heap, and especially Julian Rhind-Tutt to Mark Williams! Also, never forget Ricky Gervais is in this movie fresh off the success of Extras.

My friends thought I might have been a little too excited, I got lots of the "yes yes of course we'll see it" responses with the underlying message being "will you be quiet about it if we agree to go?" It came out the weekend before my birthday and it really was an early gift, despite the grumbling company.  

Stardust is literally one of my favorite movies. A stellar cast, a wonderful love story, magic, humor, a flying ship, oh, and the realization that I actually like Mark Strong. The movie captures that same ephemeral quality that is in The Princess Bride that you can't quite capture if you set out to replicate it. Just look to Neil's own flop MirrorMask which was deliberately meant to be Labyrinth for a new generation. MirrorMask is best forgotten, unlike Stardust. Stardust showed me that you really never can tell about books and their adaptations. They just might surprise you. Just as a great book can make a horrible movie, so can a mediocre book make a fabulous movie. Preconceptions get us nowhere and if we leave them at the door we might be surprised. Though I do think it's time for me to give the book another chance. I've only journeyed back to Wall in the delightful short story that Susanna Clarke set in Gaiman's universe, but you never know, Stardust might end up like The Princess Bride for me, the book and the movie being equally good for entirely different reasons.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 2 comments  

Labels: American Gods, Birthday, Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Reminiscence, Labyrinth, MirrorMask, Nathaniel Parker, Neil Gaiman, Ricky Gervais, Sandman, Stardust, Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu, The Princess Bride, Wall

 
"I read Sandman when I was thirteen, in the wrong order, snuck out from the library out of sight of my mother. I didn't understand a bit of it, but it all merged together into some kind of wild-magic-soup in my head, thrilling and strange. I became a fan, and devoured everything he'd ever written, and at some point I even returned to Sandman and discovered that if you read it in order it actually makes a bit more sense.

But if you say 'Neil Gaiman' to me, the first thing that pops into my mind is a day three years ago. I had traveled to London with a childhood friend of mine; we had tickets to see Neil Gaiman do a talk at the Royal Society of Literature. Only it turned out, upon arriving there, that that was not the place it was actually being held. But we weren't the only ones to make that mistake--and so we found ourselves swept up in the wake of three others fans, equally lost. We christened ourselves the Gaimanites, and we set off on a quest across London to find the venue (which we did, with minutes to spare.) And as usual, Neil was spellbinding, inspiring and acerbic, and we left with the feeling of being able to put pen to paper. Our little handful of strangers reunited, and wandered into the dark together, with a night that took in London's oldest pub, climbing stone lions, mysterious street food, and a set of six foot tall M and Ms, amongst other wonders.

It felt for all the world like we'd fallen through the cracks into London Below, wandering the Neverwhere. But then that's always been Neil Gaiman's particular talent, to conjure that feeling of mystery and magic, following just behind at your heels, waiting for you to turn and follow it." - Matt

Matt and I were introduced on Facebook through our mutual friend, the author Paul Magrs. Paul was right in that we'd get along, both of us being graphic designers we have endless things to say to each other from the use of stock photography to why there's so much bad cover art on NetGalley. Though oddly we disagree on almost every single book out there, so I'm sure if you lined up my favorite Neil Gaiman books and Matt's they would be diametrically opposed. There's a podcast in there somewhere. Matt is also an editor and writer, if being a graphic designer wasn't cool enough, in fact there's a Kickstarter campaign right now for a Steampunk Anthology that has a story of Matt's in it! 

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Toast, Gaimanites, Graphic Designer, Kickstarter, London Below, Neil Gaiman, Netgalley, Neverwhere, Paul Magrs, Podcast, Royal Society of Literature, Sandman, Steampunk, Writer

"I never really liked sunny days.
When the skies were gloomy with heavy dark clouds... that's when I felt the happiest.
Mom never allowed me to dress in black, and I knew that that was the protection I needed.
Father always yelled at me to put down the volume, but I needed loud rock and roll.
I was sheltered for most of my life.

But then, The Sandman came.

My cousin, who I really admired (still do), would draw these very goth and interesting looking characters and I loved them! She then handed me DEATH: THE HIGH COST OF LIVING, and it changed everything. I was 13. I didn't know someone could write like that. I didn't know there was someone out there who thought like I did.

It sounds melodic and over the top, but I was a very sheltered child, 13 years old, living in a 3rd world country, in a city that did not have a single library. It was very hard, but one by one, I started reading all of his works that I could find throughout the years. But definitely, The Sandman series are special to me.

Neil Gaiman's writing touches that delicate line in between life and death with such gracefulness that the reader barely notices how fragile existence is. That is what I enjoy the most in his works. There's no death for the mind - that's what his work taught me.

I briefly "met" him once and got my books signed. He looked into my eyes and smiled. Little he knew how far I traveled to be there that day and smile back at him.

My "estranged" friend... soul as gloomy as mine, mind as endless as the sky.

Cheers!" - Flávia

Flávia and I met at MATC. For many semesters I'd seen this amazing work credited to a "Fly" and then one semester there was this girl in the back of my two classes named Flávia, easy to remember because I'd just read The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie for the first time, and I realized she was the "Fly" I'd been admiring for so long. Since then we've remained friends, getting to meet Neil Gaiman together, talking over books once a month a book club. I'm forever in awe of her talent as an artist and a mother, and after this toast, as a writer too.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Book Clubs, Death: The High Cost of Living, Flavia, Fly, Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Toast, Library, Neil Gaiman, Sandman, School, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

Of course I'd heard of The Sandman. Anyone with a passing interest in comics or who had visited a comic book shop knew what he looked like from comic covers to posters to statues. So I was obviously familiar with the iconography if not the story. Because, strange as it seems, at the time my story takes place I wasn't really into graphic novels. Nowadays I read a lot of them but am very particular as to what makes it into my permanent collection. But thanks to a well stocked public library I'm able to have a wide range of options, The Sandman included. At the time being fairly recently introduced to Neil's writing I hadn't yet made the leap from his prose when this story takes place. The year was 2005 and I had beyond all logic secured four tickets to a special sneak peek of Serenity in Chicago. The movie wasn't even done! Just a temporary score lifted straight off The Fifth Element. But that didn't matter, because Firefly lived again! The question was, which of my friends to take? Matt was my best friend and fellow Joss Whedon aficionado, so one ticket went to him. Another went to my friend Ann who tried to get one for her husband Bill but the show was already sold out.

The final ticket was obvious. My friend Orelia was shipping off to Africa to join the Peace Corps in a few short months and wouldn't get a chance to see the movie when it was released in the fall. After all those years spent in Rivendell co-op watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and later Angel I had my posse back for one last glorious adventure. Matt gets extremely car sick so for once I was ensconced in the back seat with Orelia, driving duties handed over to Ann. Orelia was in the process of re-reading all The Sandman comics before Africa and spent the afternoon while Ann drove us to Chicago telling me all about the series and in particular the volume she had brought along, The Sandman: The Doll's House. Even if I hadn't been familiar with Neil's work his sense of humor of having a Serial Killer Convention disguised as a "Cereal" Convention made me know that he was my kind of writer. I always look back on that day not as the day Joss callously killed off Wash, but of those quite moments in the backseat with Orelia talking about comics, or the amazing lightning storm we witnessed on the return journey. It was one of those days that I will always remember.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Chicago, Comics, Firefly, Gaiman Gala, Gaiman Reminiscence, Graphic Novels, Joss Whedon, Lightning, Neil Gaiman, Peace Corps, Sandman, Serenity, The Sandman: The Doll's House, Wash

Fortunately, the Milk by Neil Gaiman
Published by: HarperCollins
Publication Date: September 17th, 2013
Format: Hardcover, 128 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

There is no milk for the cereal. Fortunately Dad has gone to the corner shop. But he has been gone awhile... he probably ran into someone he knows. When he does show up though apparently it was running into a whole bunch of people he didn't know that detained him. Aliens set on redecorating the planet, pirates who don't know about walking the plank, and dinosaurs who have invented time machines that look like hot air balloons, but are NOT called that. Sure Dad claims to have messed with the space time continuum and is a little late and unbelievable, but fortunately, he has the milk.

For some reason, while I really really love Neil Gaiman I am very choosy about his books. I've never really bothered with his books for really young audiences and in a confession I am sure will shock some of you, I've never been a fan of The Sandman Comics, and I tried, I seriously tried to like those. I was likewise planning on giving Fortunately, the Milk a pass as well, even though this is one of his books that straddles the age gaps, much like The Graveyard Book, which is quite possibly my favorite of his books. I am very glad I didn't. The truth of things is that while books are put in genres and recommended to certain demographics, all books are for everyone and we shouldn't prejudge based on a kooky cover or a bad blurb foisted on the book by the publisher.

I have Neil himself to thank for making me want to read this book, more then just his writing it that is. Back in July of 2013 when I went to his "final ever book tour" he read a bit from this book. While he bemoaned about the hardship of trying to sell a kids book at the same time as an adults book, something James Patterson has mastered with ease, it was his reading of Fortunately, the Milk that made me realize that yes, I need to stop this prejudging of books. So very quickly, in a matter of seconds, I went from not wanting to read this book in the least to wanting to read it immediately. I was put in a situation in which I was exposed to something that I wasn't keen on and it opened my choosy little heart to enjoy this wacky and weird little book.

How can I explain what appeals to me about a book where a dad goes out for milk and ends up encountering pirates, dinosaurs, time-travel, volcano gods, and what have you in his quest for his children's breakfast? It's what would happen if The Doctor did your grocery shopping for you. Now, as you probably know, I'm not just plucking Doctor Who out of thin air or making some sort of weird connection out of nowhere, Neil has written two episode of Doctor Who so far and is a lifelong fan, so this isn't a stretch of the imagination. Add to that the illustrations by Skottie Young... well, the father is depicted as kind of a mash up of Tom Baker and David Tennant, Tennant's hair as it were with Baker's scarf. So Skottie obviously picked up on this Who vibe as well. But it's also the balancing of the totally absurd, Proffesor Steg and the Floaty-Ball-Person-Carrier, versus the totally mundane, picking up milk at the local shop, that is the hallmark of a great episode of Doctor Who.

I kept relating it to the two episodes of Doctor Who with Craig Owens played by the awesome James Corden, where we have the relatable world of Craig and the weird world of The Doctor that keeps seeping in despite him trying to live a life that's more human. But more importantly then all that is that this book is a celebration of dad's who are great storytellers and never let your refrigerator run out of milk so that you can always have your cereal. Thanks to my Dad who fits this unique mold and I am sure has probably referred to coconuts at some point as hard-hairy-wet-white-crunchers, but most likely because he forgot they were called coconuts.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Craig Owens, Dads, David Tennant, Doctor Who, Fortunately the Milk, James Corden, Neil Gaiman, Sandman, Skottie Young, The 10th Doctor, The 4th Doctor, The Graveyard Book, Tom Baker

Sandman: The Dream Hunters by Neil Gaiman
Published by: DC Comics
Publication Date: November 3rd, 2009
Format: Hardcover, 144 Pages
To Buy

The official patter:

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:08 AM 1 comments  

Labels: Chagall, Neil Gaiman, Sandman, The Graveyard Book, The Hunter's Dream, Tuesday Tomorrow