During George Mason University's Fall for the Book festivities last weekend, I got to meet Neil frekin' Gaiman. Granted, it was in a room with 1,500 other people, but there were only four rows between me and the author of Stardust, the creator of The Sandman comic series, the writer on Doctor Who, the bad-most-baddest bad guy on The Simpsons.
"The [books] I enjoy writing the most I also hate writing the most... I ask my agent, 'Why did you let me do this? I could have been a gardener!'"
The week before, I also attended The National Book Festival. I caught bits and pieces of several talks, including Walter Dean Myers, James Dashner and Lois Lowery, but the crowds were insane this year and I couldn't get a seat at anything.
My YA librarian friend came down from Pennsylvania, and we caught the end of Maggie Stiefvater's talk. And because we're both a bit gaga for The Scorpio Races, we bought copies of her new book, The Raven Boys, and spent the rest of the afternoon waiting in line to get the signed.
I guess I'll have to watch the presentations once they're post online. If I go all fangirl in my living room when no one's around to see it, will that still make me a nerd?
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