Meeting & Fleeting

So much for my exclusive revelations of Jossean genius in this little blog. Part One of the complete transcript of his Melbourne Q & A is available at the Australian Serenity website, and it's virtually verbatim. Of course, don't go there if you haven't seen the film, it's a SPOILER UNIVERSE. But if you have, go to the "I've Seen Serenity" thread in the forums.

Yes, I'm still basking in post-Joss afterglow. Good grief.

In other news:
* according to (hopefully) reliable sources, Tanya Donelly is pregnant. Yay, Tan!
* vale Sainters, when will your time come?
* Desolation Jones 3 ... frigging fantastic

In my last post I mentioned my encounter with Neil Gaiman. I posted the following tale on my website, but do you have the time to go wandering the internet? I don't think so ...

Monday, 18th July 2005
Neil where I stood

Tonight, Neil Gaiman was in Melbourne and I was lucky enough to attend his talkerama at the State Library of Victoria. Neil, as you probably know, is a "writer and storyteller" (his words) of extraordinary repute. He's written the comics that made comics readable, novels and children's books that have won dozens of awards, and TV episodes, film scripts and (presumably) shopping lists of profound wit and imagination, too. He is a Great.

Listening to him recount his career was glorious and savage. So much direction, bravery, dedication and synchronicity. He deserves everything he has, and he does what he does brilliantly and graciously. I was seeing/hearing a great writer, but more importantly I was experiencing a living conduit.

Neil is at the hub of many universes. He talked about Terry Pratchett, Roger Avery and his years of interviewing, and he answered questions about Tori Amos, Alice Cooper and Doctor Who. Personally, his links to Douglas Adams (who he interviewed as a lad) and his English comic-writing contemporaries speak the loudest, but he's everywhere, in everything, at the hub. It's almost incomprehensible. I'm not mentioning much about his writing because his writing doesn't do much for me. But the man's station is profound.

Chamali, my companion for the evening, and I lined up for almost two hours to get his autograph and say hi. I asked a question which got away from me:

"Neil, magic. In an interview Kevin Smith called you, Alan Moore and Grant Morrison the three European gods of comic writing. Alan has his magic, Grant has his Chaos Magic, I was just wondering what magic means to you?"

Yep, I think that's what I asked. Only faster than you can imagine, and in gibberish.

Neil, to his credit, answered me politely. He said something like this:

"Alan hit forty and had his mid-life crisis. Grant's always been like that. Maybe I'll turn fifty and make a change (I can't remember his exact words, but you get the gist). I still remember Alan calling me up and declaring (in Alan's deep voice) 'Neil, I'm becoming a warlock' (very amusing this was). But, you see, Alan has his beard, and Neil has his shaved head, and there's nothing else left. All I do is try to be myself."

No, it's not the answer I wanted, but I didn't ask the question I wanted, either. I think I was trying to say "You write about a magical universe, just like Alan and Grant, but they're writing about what they believe in. What do you believe in?" This still might have imploded, but at least I wouldn't have scored the twee 'be yourself' platitude. I don't know why I cared about Neil's personal feelings about magic but I did, and do. Maybe I still deeply wonder about motivation and faith, and what gets a successful writer out of their bedroom.

Despite the general thrill of the evening, and the delightfulness of Chamali's company, I felt a little flat on the way home. I was utterly dehydrated ten minutes into the evening, and halfway home, waiting for a tram or bus at my very familiar Alfred Hospital stop, I thought I was going to collapse. Then, to my amazement, I was drinking. There, next to the stop, was a drinking fountain, and there I was, drinking from it. I've been at this stop hundreds of times and never seen the fountain. Tonight I didn't see it. But I drank from it.

Everything ...