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How Caitri Lost Any Cool She Had

Well first off on Saturday I got up way early--not that I slept more than three hours anyway. Got in line to see Neil at about 9:20 or so--the signing didn't begin until 10am but apparently the die-hard were there at 5:30 and so I was maybe 133rd or so. Lucky for me Neil is THE MAN and stuck around after his signing was supposed to end (I got my copy of Smoke and Mirrors and Jim's copy of Preludes and Nocturnes signed at 11:25 on the nose) at 11am, and because he is still so awesome he had another signing after his reading.

In line I was with a couple of eighth graders. You'd think I'd be the mature one, but no, we kept feeding each other and bouncing up and down to catch glimpses of our God:

Actual transcript:

"Ooh, ooh, I think I saw the top of his head!"

"I saw his watch!"

"I see his elbow!"


"Dude...I think he heard us..."

Yeah. We were glad he didn't arrest us either. When I got to see him I told him he was punk rock awesome and I thought he was God, to which he replied in his ever so British way, "Oh no, I'm not God, but I am an author, which may be the next best thing." Squee!

Then Mom got her copy of Wolves in the Walls signed, and he drew a picture for her, and she took his picture. Oh yeah, my Ma rocks! She told him, "Neil, I haven't had this much fun since the Bill Clinton signing!" to which he gallantly replied, "You know, I'm not sure how to take that, but thank you."

For the next couple hours I was giggly and high as a kite. At the talk he read from Anansi Boys which is going to be so frigging awesome when it comes out and answered a few questions. The best one was when someone asked him if blogging had changed his life, and he said not really, only that people he had never met knew the names of his cats and brought him pairs of black socks.

Yup, Neil is the man. Hee.

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April 2018


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