An Evening with Neil Gaiman in Chicago
On a warm night on Friday the 13th, Neil Gaiman strode on stage in the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago. A packed crowd held their recently purchased signed books close as he settled in at the podium, dark blue and grey cloud shifting on a curtain behind him. He had to ask the crowd to calm down, before noting that Chicago is one of the first places he did readings back in the day.
Over the course of the evening, Gaiman read “Orange,” requested by Cat Mihos, and a poem about Batman dedicated to Neal Adams; to my delight, he read “The October Tale,” one of my favorite short stories; and he read “The Price,” which he described as a Midwestern story, “a story as much about living here as it is about anything else.”
He would finish out the night with a reading of “What You Need to Be Warm,” a poem he wrote in his role as United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees ambassador to usher in a 2019 winter emergency appeal to help refugees. The night held hushed, teary silences, but also many laughs.
@neil-gaiman interspersed readings with answering pre-submitted audience questions—he mentioned early on that our stack of post-its, index cards, and torn-off pieces of paper held the best set of questions he’d seen on his tour.
Here are a couple highlights.
Favorite character to write?
Delirium. “Because she did her own dialogue. And most characters don’t.”
A lot of your works are inspired by religion. How do you do that research?
“I would have loved to have been a practical theologian.” Actually, no, he corrected—he would have liked to be “somebody who professionally made up religions.” The job doesn’t exist, he said. “But it ought to.”
How does he feel about people idolizing his works and teaching them in classrooms?
“Uncomfortable.” Why? “Because I loathe Thomas Hardy.” And he suspects that if he hadn’t been forced to read Hardy at age 12, he maybe could have liked him just fine. So he worries a bit about his works being taught in classrooms.
What advice do you have for working with an artist or illustrator?
He advised asking two questions: What do you like drawing or want to draw that you haven’t gotten to much? and What don’t you like drawing? It can get you into an artist’s good graces, and you also want to be able to try and work with what they’re good at and try to amplify it, push them to be even better. McKean hated drawing big crowds of people—Sam Keith enjoyed it—Jill Thompson doesn’t like cars.
Americans Gods the show gave Laura more personhood (”It did,” he agreed). Will Anansi Boys do the same for its women characters, and how do you feel about updating of your material?
Anansi Boys has wrapped shooting and will be a six-episode miniseries. It will have more of Rosie and Daisy and who they are than in the book, and he’s very proud of this. Neil said at the start that while he would write the first and final episodes, he wanted other writers in the room. Ultimately he worked with four writers of color—two of whom were women—to produce the full product of the Anansi Boys that we’ll get on-screen.
I admit I was personally proud that he answered this one, as it was my question.
What fountain pen and ink are you using right now?
He is using a Pilot 823 and a Namiki Falcon, primarily to sign books. He uses a lot of Pilot inks, because they offer well-packaged, secure sample sizes, which he can buy in a wide variety of wonderful colors, and which then won’t be as much of a liability to the rest of his luggage while traveling on tour.
Who is the coolest person you’ve worked with and why is it Terry Pratchett?
Terry was always certain that he wasn’t cool “and he was terrified that I ‘was.’” But Neil will never forget when Terry called him and said, Do you remember that story you sent me? Are you doing anything with that? And Neil said no, he was very busy with Sandman. “I know what happens next,” Terry said. So they had two options: Neil could sell him the idea, or they could write the book together.
Of course Neil said that they should write it together. “It was like Michelangelo calling you up and saying ‘Do you want to do a ceiling together?’”
Favorite Pratchett story?
One day after Terry’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, he called up Neil, starting the call (as he always did) with, “Hallo. It’s me.” He was writing a memoir and couldn’t remember something. Could Neil help him? Neil felt a flood of emotion. His good friend, his brilliant friend, couldn’t remember something. “I could be your memory, Terry,” he said internally.
Well, Terry said, do you remember in November 1990, we were on a book tour for Good Omens? And we went to that radio interview and the interviewer had read the cover but hadn’t realized it was fiction, and he asked us what was so interesting about Agnes Nutter and her prophecies, and we told him, and he believed us? And we would see the engineers, and they knew, because they were knocking against the glass to get his attention? And we let him go on for 15 minutes before letting him off the hook? (Neil noted here that Terry was the one who did so, and that he did it very gracefully, making it seem like the host had been in on the joke the whole time.) And remember how we left the studio and walked down the street singing “Shoehorn with Teeth” by They Might Be Giants?
Yes, Neil said. But…what did you need me to remember?
“Was it 30th Street, or 34th?”
When is Sandman coming to Netflix?
He doesn’t know. Netflix will tell us, when they figure it out. “They say they have algorithms and plans, but I think they just go into a dark room with a knife and plunge it into the wall” then turn on the lights and see what calendar date they hit.
Where would your secret lair be, if you had one?
“I’m a traditionalist, so in an extinct volcano above a shark pit.”
