The funny thing is not that I’ve read it, loved it (not my favorite, but it’s wonderful, and I am thrilled Henry Selick made it into a movie). No, the funny thing is that I’ve joined Twitter in the last couple weeks, and that you’re my primary motivation to check in every hour or so, because you’re one of the most active twitterers today! I even got to send a little response to one of your posts, because yes, you’re the new Edgar Allan Poe allright… And less than 24 hours later, I found out you’d be in Paris for two days, with a book signing scheduled. 

Now I don’t know if I’ll have time to come and get a book signed, if only because I’m not really into that, but I like your writing so much I think I will try. That way I can tell my kid I met you when she grows up and becomes one of your readers in her own right.

American Gods, Neverwhere and Anansi Boys are brilliant. You’re weird. So weird that reading you is a jubilation, an experience that I find hard to define. Kinda like reading Poe. Or some of Maupassant’s peculiar novels.

Enjoy your stay in Paris, now, will you? And don’t stay locked up writing or reading in that hotel room of yours, even if I know how strong the temptation can be. Hey, if you don’t have any plans, I’ll even cook you dinner!

Meanwhile, I’ll just show Clarisse, my almost 4 year old, your pretty Blueberry girl video.

Yours madly,

MND