A Newberry for Neil!

The Graveyard Book won the Newberry Medal for 2009!

As someone who has read every Newberry Medal winner (and quite a few of the Honor winners), I hope I can say with authority that this book most definitely belongs on this list. It is magical in that Neil way that I'm just ga-ga for! (Oh dear, did I just write "ga-ga"? This must be big news!)

First you should read his description of how he found out the news. He's on a press tour right now promoting Coraline. (Another insanely excellent book, of course.) Right after The Graveyard Book was published, people started saying that it should be the Newberry Medal winner, but there was a problem. One of the chapters of the book was previously published in an anthology of short stories. Did this exclude it from the competition? No one was sure and many thorough readings of the rules ensued. But since the book has won, we can guess how that debate ended up.

The Man and I have been able to hear Neil read only twice. The first time was at this big fancy pants dinner put on by the Plain Dealer. The evening was very posh. We were served a nice dinner along with the other patrons of this event most of whom were... extremely mature. This was ten years ago, so we were mighty young to be there. Luckily, there was a balcony of cheap seats, for those who just came for the readings and dinner. The crowd that started to fill up that balcony made the two of us feel much more comfortable. The balcony scene seemed to have the opposite effect on our table mates though.

There were two other readers, can't remember who they were, and then Neil did a lovely reading. I remember that he read Nicholas Was which made everyone squirm in their seats, but I felt like I was going to float away.

But it was at the book signing part of the evening where the Man and I really made a big impression. Let me set the scene:

Here's the two of us, nervous as can be, creeping up in line, getting closer and closer to an author we admire above all others. As the last person in front of us melts away, there's nothing between Neil and us but a long table. Somehow I was able to hand our copy of Stardust to him.

Who would you like this signed to?

We can't move. Can't talk. We are pathetic. But before he can ask again, The Man blurts out-

Calliope. Sign it to Calliope. Our daughter.

Oh, Calliope! That's one of my favorite names!

Ours too! I think I said that. Maybe we said it together. Did I mention we were a little giddy?

He writes "Calliope" at the top of the page, then stops and looks at us both.

Calliope... Not because of me, is it?

This part I remember embarrassingly clear. We both just start grinning and nodding like complete idiots. I think we also started saying "Yes" over and over again.

Now I really am scared. He said right to our big smiling goofy faces. Then he wrote this:

Congratulations Neil! Keep the wonderfulness coming!

Literary Greatness

Last night the man did his first fiction reading at Cleveland State reading from the novella. You want to read it? Here's the complicated way to get a copy. His book is listed on page 19, order form on page 86. Or I just discovered that it is also for sale over at Amazon which is so thrilling to me that I can barely type this!

The reading was in this little room at Trinity Commons that, if it wasn't for the interesting architecture, one could be a tad bit insulted that you were being asked to read in a room whose everyday use is obviously the storage of sheet music. Anyway, here's the man reading..

Okay, that's really Neil Gaiman and not even a picture I ever took of him. (Any of the pictures I've ever taken of Neil are just a blur of a man in black. Can't imagine why....) The actual man was one very tightly strung banjo before and during the reading and I'm certain the appearance of my camera would have sent him running through the stained glass windows to the street below. While he was all set to read some juicy bits and pieces of the book, the MC of the night caught him off guard with a request of one of his poems. The poor man held it together on the outside, but I could tell he was in tiny little shredded pieces inside. But once he started reading from the new book he did amazing. Funny, smooth and not a person in the room shifted in their seat the whole time. When it was all said and done and everyone had gone home, he posed for this shot, mostly just to show off the windows of said storage closet. He's not going to like that I posted this, but that's how the cookie (and the writer) crumbles!

Congratulations babe! You did great!