Fragile Things

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One thing that puzzles me (and I use puzzle here in the technical sense of really, really irritates me) is reading, as from time to time I have, learned academic books on folktales and fairy stories that explain why nobody wrote them and which go on to point out that looking for authorship of folktales is in itself a fallacy; the kind of books or articles that give the impression that all stories were stumbled upon or, at best, reshaped, and I think, Yes, but they all started somewhere, in someone’s head. Because stories start in minds—they aren’t artifacts or natural phenomena. I was asked for a story for an anthology themed about gargoyles, and, deadline approaching, found myself feeling rather blank. Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of Dread Desire • (2004) • shortstory (variant of Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Nameless House of the Night of Dread Desire) Gaiman says in the introduction that the original title for the collection was These People Ought to Know Who We Are and Tell That We Were Here, after a word balloon in a Little Nemo in Slumberland strip. This exact line also appears in the text for the included short story "Bitter Grounds".

So all in all definitely a mixed bag I am sad to say. I have loved everything else that I have read of Neil Gaiman's though I did only find Good Omens to be okay/good and have no intention of re-reading it. I have already read "Coraline" and "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" twice this year. Harlequin Valentine. Quizá esta historia también podría tener algo con el karma, como el embustero termina siendo embaucado. Aunque debo decir que no me gustó particularmente, y probablemente sea de aquellas historias que olvide primero.A story that began with, and exists because of, my love of the remoter parts of Scotland, where the bones of the Earth show through, and the sky is a pale white, and it’s all astoundingly beautiful, and it feels about as remote as any place can possibly be. It was good to catch up with Shadow, two years after the events in my novel American Gods.

Impossible? asked the emperor, mildly. It is when emperors and kings are at their mildest that they are at their most dangerous. October in the Chair" (5 stars)-This was a great story involving the months as we know them coming to life and telling stories. In your fantasies," she said, "my people are just like you. Only better. We don't die or age or suffer from pain or cold or thirst. We're snappier dressers. We possess the wisdom of the ages. And if we crave blood, well, it is no more than the way you people crave food or affection or sunlight - and besides, it gets us out of the house. Crypt. Coffin. Whatever." I really enjoyed this collection of stories. I listened to the audiobook version read by the author himself, which I think added quite a bit to the experience. It's been my experience that authors who read their own stories as audiobooks are generally not the best. While it's true that they know their characters and their stories, many of them just don't have the voice or talent for oral storytelling. That's not to say that the author isn't a storyteller - obviously they are, often they just shouldn't do it orally.This was a story which I didn't quite understand but I have an idea of what Gaiman was aiming at. I think his story was set in a macabre fantasy horror world with the author trying to write 'real life' fiction. Meaning he was actually writing gothic horror. And fantasy to him was writing about our real world. If what I think is correct then it was a very clever story, speaking about the writer's art and about the connection between horror and reality. It was also a creepy story in the proper way a horror story should be! Fifteen Painted Cards from a Vampire Tarot" (1 star)- No. I just read that thing twice and just rolled my eyes. A year or so later, bored on a plane, I ran across my note about the story and, having finished the magazine I was reading, I simply wrote it—it was finished before the plane landed. Then I called a handful of knowledgeable friends and read it to them, asking if it seemed familiar, if anyone had read it before. They said no. Normally I write short stories because someone has asked me to write a short story, but for once in my life I had a short story nobody was waiting for. I sent it to Gordon Van Gelder at the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and he accepted and retitled it, which was fine by me. (I’d called it Afterlife.)

The Problem of Susan– this story was written in response to the character Susan in Narnia and also how children's fiction came to be. I like how human professor Hastings is when she talks about tragedy and how is clashes with Brenda's insistence in believing that the author has moral authority in the world he created. I loved how Mary Poppins was introduced into the story. (4 stars) And so when I read the stories in this book, they give me a little thrill, because I don't expect the vulgar and the so-very-adult-ness of some of these stories. Even though, by all accounts, I SHOULD. One story was inspired by a Lisa Snellings-Clark statue of a man holding a double bass, just as I did when I was a child; the other was written for an anthology of real-life ghost stories. Most of the other authors managed tales that were rather more satisfying than mine, although mine had the unsatisfying advantage of being perfectly true. These stories were first collected in Adventures in the Dream Trade, a miscellany published by NESFA Press in 2002, which collected lots of introductions and oddments and such. CLOSING TIME Written for Peter Straub, for the remarkable volume of Conjunctions that he guest-edited. It began some years earlier, at a convention in Madison, Wisconsin, at which Harlan Ellison had asked me to collaborate with him on a short story. We were placed inside a rope barrier, Harlan at his typewriter, me at my laptop. But before we could start the short story, Harlan had an introduction to finish, so while he finished his introduction I started this story and showed it to him. Nope. It reads like a Neil Gaiman story, he said. (So I put it aside and started another story, which Harlan and I have now been collaborating on ever since. Bizarrely, whenever we get together and work on it, it gets shorter.) So I had part of a story sitting on my hard drive. Peter invited me into Conjunctions a couple of years later. I wanted to write a story about a dead boy and a living one, as a sort of dry run for a book for children I had decided to write (it’s called The Graveyard Book, and I am writing it right now). It took me a little while to figure out how the story worked, and when it was done, I dedicated it to Ray Bradbury, who would have written it much better than I did.On the other hand, I couldn't think of any short story or poem that I didn't like. The short story written specially for The Matrix, which Neil completed prior to the screening of the very first Matrix film, was, of course, a bit predictable, as it was made to cater to the plot of the film. Apart from that, however, it was still an interesting read, and I enjoyed that one nonetheless. Charming, at times creepy, and good fun . . .[W]ell-worth adding to any collection; highly recommended." —LibraryJournal Sunbird" – written as a birthday present for Neil Gaiman's daughter, a story in the style of R. A. Lafferty