Newbery in the Graveyard

I'm simply reposting an entry from Neil Gaiman's Blog cuz it made me laugh and smile with glee. It's a GREAT book by the way (thanks My Love for giving to me for Christmas)
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Monday, January 26, 2009
(Insert amazed and delighted swearing here)

Posted by Neil at 8:14 AM
The great thing about having a dead day in a hotel after a long junket, and this Monday was one of those, is you have nothing to get up for. So I had a very long late lazy bath in the small hours of the morning, and then stayed up talking to a friend on the phone, and then I read...

I drifted off to sleep with a Jack Benny show playing on the iPod around 3:30 am. I set the alarm for 11.00 am because I didn't have anything to get up early for, and planned to wake a little before the alarm, and start writing. I closed my eyes...

And then the phone was ringing. I think it may have been ringing for some time. In fact, I thought as I surfaced, it had already rung and then stopped ringing once, which meant someone was calling to tell me something. Probably the hotel was burning down. I picked up the phone. It was my assistant, Lorraine, sleeping over at my place with a convalescent dog.

"Merrilee called, and she thinks someone is trying to get hold of you," she told me. I told her what time it was (viz. five thirty in the bloody morning here is she out of her mind some of us are trying to sleep here you know.) She said she knew what time it was in LA, and that Merrilee, who is my literary agent, sounded really definite that this was important.

I got out of bed. Checked voicemail. No, no-one was trying to get hold of me. I called home, to tell Lorraine that it was all nonsense -- "It's okay," she said. "They called here. They're on the other line. I'm giving them your cellphone number."

I was not yet sure what was going on or who was trying to do what. It was 5:45 in the morning. No-one had died, though, I was fairly certain of that. My cell-phone rang.

"Hello. This is Rose Trevino. I'm chair of the ALA Newbery Committee..." Oh. Newbery. Right. Cool. I may be an honors book or something. That would be nice, "and I have the voting members of the Newbery Committee here, and we want to tell you that your book..."

"THE GRAVEYARD BOOK," said fourteen loud voices, and I thought, I may be still asleep right now, but they probably don't do this, probably don't call people and sound so amazingly excited, for Honors books....

"...just won..."

"THE NEWBERY MEDAL" they chorused. They sounded really happy. I checked the hotel room because it seemed very likely that I was still fast asleep. It all looked reassuringly solid.

You are on a speakerphone with at least 14 teachers and librarians and suchlike great, wise and good people, I thought. Do not start swearing like you did when you got the Hugo. This was a wise thing to think because otherwise huge, mighty and fourletter swears were gathering. I mean, that's what they're for. I think I said, You mean it's Monday?

"You can tell your agent and your publisher, but no-one else," said Rose. "And it will be announced in about an hour."

And I fumfed and mumbled and said something of a thankyouthankyouthankyouokaythiswasworthbeingwokenupfor nature.

Then I phoned my agent and my publisher, both of whom seemed to have intuited my news already through secret methods, but it may have just been that I was calling them on this particular Monday morning (and, in retrospect, someone must have phoned someone to get my home phone number). (Merrilee-my-agent: "You didn't start swearing, did you?" Me: "No." Her: "Oh good.")

I called Maddy, spoke to her, and she was beyond delighted, and I told her to try not to tell anybody about it, and told her lovely mum, who was thrilled for me.

Then I got a phone call from Elyse, Harperchildren publicist, wanting to know if I could fly in from LA to New York to be on the Today Show tomorrow morning. I said sure. I mean, what else was I going to say?

So I'm checking out of this hotel two days early, and I'm typing this with the ALA webcast playing in the background. They haven't got to the Newbury award yet. I'm not sure that they're actually going to say The Graveyard Book when they get to the Newberies bit. I might have imagined all of this, or they may have to do a sudden recount or something. But I think it probably happened. I mean, it's now 7:20 am and I'm drinking tea and blinking happily at the world. Spoke to Holly. Spoke to Mike.

Okay. They just said it. I can post this.

Labels: God I love librarians, Newbery Medal

It’s a Level 3 Spell.

My hat is off to Lord Voldemort. Never have I seen a basic level spell (shatter) used in such fine form. The Dark Lord may be evil, but when it comes to a wizard battle he’s top of the class. The latest installment of the Harry Potter Movie franchise is the best so far. I out right hated the book, but the movie redeems the plot line nicely. Finally the wizard world becomes real for me.

My poor husband was dragged to it on Friday night, which I think is where my terribly off week started. The depression hit bottom this week when I found that Springville Library has reposted the position I applied for without letting me know that I “didn’t get the job”. HOW TACKLESS IS THAT? This event, along with my husband not being there when I needed him and tongue lashing from another when all I really wanted was to clear the gloom from my head, sent me strait to the bottom.

The universe ripped me open and left me flayed on the salt flats. It’s amazing how being thrown to the wolves brings clarity. I’ve decided there is a God, but he’s not the loving, kind, “comforting” guy that many Christian groups want you to believe. Have you read the Old Testament? How about the New Testament? There’s proof enough for me without having to turn to the Book of Mormon for yet another witness that God doesn’t play nice with the humans. In fact I think he’s akin to the teacher that may know his stuff, but nobody wants to take a class from him. I’ve decided to drop his class. I’m not becoming an atheist by any means, but I’m just not going to expect much from Him and His anymore.

God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of his own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players, to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.

--Gaiman and Pratchett's "Good Omens"

My Fish is happy as all get out. He’s in a new clean bowl, with plants. He can swim about and hide all he wants. He’s next to the TV on his own little shelf. The cat is intrigued. We call it Tama TV. She just sits and watches him from the couch. Maybe I’ll post a picture.