The Dreaming » 2005 » September
Sep 28
Clippings
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Mirrormask coverage, as would be expected, is starting to ramp up, with television advertising starting to make appearances (although hopefully not just during the late night Adult Swim block

Features on the film appear in the October issues of Animation Magazine and Starlog, and online at the Onion’s A.V. Club (pt 1, pt 2), and at Zap2it.

Reviews for Mirrormask should also start coming in faster now, and as one would expect, Rotten Tomatoes will collect them more comprehensively than I can.

However, a quick Google News search points to them already appearing in alternative papers, including San Francisco Bay Guardian and the Village Voice. Mind you the later of the two makes the reviews at IMDB look like they’re worthy of Pulitzers.
No really.

Sep 28
Feature - DC Examiner
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From today’s DC Examiner:

When he set out to write his latest novel, Anansi Boys, Neil Gaiman traveled to Ireland to spend some quality time at an empty, gloomily Gothic haunted house owned by his musician pal Tori Amos.

He finds a place like that much more inspiring for his fantasy and horror literature than, say, a happy, sunshiny field somewhere.

“The trouble with happy, sunshiny fields is in a good happy, sunshiny field, what I want to do is go and walk around - I don’t want to sit there writing,” says the best-selling and award-winning writer. “A nice gloomy place with gray clouds rolling in, with maybe a light rain pattering against the window and a big fire puttering, makes you go, ‘This is the weather for writing.’

Gaiman hatched the idea for Anansi Boys, which hit bookshelves last week, nine years ago when he was working on the BBC adaptation of his screenplay, Neverwhere. (He was so disappointed in the TV miniseries that he wrote his own novelization after it aired.) He inserted as a guest star a character named Mr. Anansi, based on the west African trickster god Anansi, into the book he was penning at the time, American Gods.

Finally, a year and a half ago, he decided to give Mr. Anansi a bigger role: In Anansi Boys, Anansi’s dead after giving up the ghost on a karaoke stage, and his “normal” son, “Fat Charlie” Nancy, is introduced to Spider, the brother he never knew he had. Spider just happens to have scary magical powers and inherited his dad’s rebellious streak and ends up causing a heap of problems for his newly found sibling.

“When I wrote it, lots of things surprised me: It was much funnier than I expected,” Gaiman says. “I thought it would start off funny and then get really scary, and actually it’s basically a novel that stays pretty damn funny throughout.”

His works of prose speak for themselves, but Gaiman might be best known for his experience in the world of comic books. He won the Harvey and Eisner awards for his run with artist Dave McKean on the sprawling DC Comics fantasy The Sandman, which debuted in 1989 and featured Morpheus, aka Dream, who’s kidnapped by wizards aiming to capture his sister, Death. (Destiny, Desire, Despair, Delirium and Destruction just happen to be their other siblings.) The series has been collected in 10 volumes and spun off several comic titles and graphic novels.

Gaiman signed a two-project deal with Marvel Comics a few years ago - the first book out of the partnership was 1602, a 12-issue maxiseries that took such superheroes as Spider-Man, the X-Men, Dr. Strange and the Fantastic Four and reimagined them in the 17th century.

His next series will be an overhaul of The Eternals, created by Jack Kirby in the 1960s.

“There was wonderful stuff in them and stuff that didn’t work and then it got assimilated into the Marvel universe and then it sort of sat there not really doing much for years,” says Gaiman, who was born and raised in London but now lives in Minnesota.

“The huge advantage to having a bunch of characters who are hundreds of thousands of years old is you aren’t just limited to [a modern time frame]. But it’s a six-issue thing and it’ll take people to a lot of interesting places.”
–Brian Truitt

Sep 28

From today’s Los Angeles Times:

As averse as the studios are to relinquishing control, when the vision is big and the budget is small, as it was on MirrorMask, giving the filmmakers creative authority was the only way to get things done.

Motivated by the success on DVD of the late Jim Henson’s fantasy films The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, Sony Pictures in 2002 approached the Jim Henson Co. to produce something similar. The only catch was the budget, which was $4 million - in an age when the cost of producing a Hollywood movie averages more than $60 million.

When Lisa Henson, co-chief executive of the company (along with her brother, Brian), tried to think of how she could make it work, Neil Gaiman and his frequent collaborator Dave McKean immediately came to mind.

“Neil is the most interesting person working in fantasy today,” she says. “He’d shared with me some of Dave’s short films, and I was a fan, in particular, of one called ‘The Week Before.’ ” With two actors in simple masks, the film tells how God and Satan spent their time in the days before the creation of the universe.

According to Lisa Henson, McKean “was basically making these films by himself or with a few friends. But as independent as they are, they create a grand vision.” She offered Gaiman and McKean complete creative control if they could find a way to do the project with the low budget, a prospect that was both irresistible and scary for McKean.

“I’d been warned by my lawyer that this was a dangerous situation and I was going to get completely trampled on,” McKean says. “It was all very strange and serious. But the studio executives were as good as their word.”

“I didn’t think he’d be able to make it for the small money unless he was able to do things the way he’d always done them before, which was all by himself,” Henson says. McKean’s solution was to create the world entirely by computer, with only 15 animators, many of them recent college graduates, working feverishly for 17 months of postproduction.

Neither knew what to expect when they took MirrorMask, which opens Friday, to the Sundance Film Festival in January.

Although Gaiman is one of the most well-known fantasy authors in the world and McKean’s illustrations and commercial designs have earned him countless awards and an international fan base, they were unsure if the industry-heavy audiences would know who they were, let alone enjoy the movie. Their first clue came not at the first screening but at the second.

“I went by the theater and these same people from the first screening had been in line for four hours for tickets in order to get in and see it again,” Gaiman explains over dinner with McKean. “There were things happening on screen they’d never seen before, and they were missing parts of the story. So they were going back again, to watch it two, three, four times.”

Co-created by Gaiman, who wrote the script, and McKean, who directed, MirrorMask is an attempt to create a literate family fantasy for the DVD generation, in which repeated viewings will, the filmmakers hope, reveal something new each time.

“I wanted to get across that feeling I had as a kid,” says McKean. “I’d start watching a film and images would come up on the screen and I didn’t know where I was going to go or what I would be seeing.” The story line is a classic fantasy standby: A young girl (Stephanie Leonidas) rebels against her parents and finds herself lost, like Dorothy in Oz or Alice in Wonderland, trying to get back home.

But in the details, Gaiman and McKean strive to set their story apart. The girl’s parents aren’t the typical out-of-touch clods; they’re circus performers. And the fantasy world the girl finds herself in is of her own design, inspired by drawings she created and hung on her bedroom wall.

The drawings are McKean’s, who designed the film’s look, from the odd masks of the human characters to the mysterious floating giants, talking hedgehogs, monkeybirds and scurrying eyeball spiders.

“I like things that are made by hand,” says McKean, and MirrorMask looks every bit like one of his multimedia illustrations come to life. The long postproduction window after seven weeks of filming in Brighton, England, during the summer of 2003 was a relief; although McKean worried every day that he would be fired. “I had to design everything, and it was so arcane, no one could come in to debate it. It was the only thing that made me feel a little bit better in the morning.” Though the production went relatively smoothly, the initial creation caused the most headaches.

Henson offered Gaiman and McKean the use of her family’s home in London to come up with the story, neutral ground for McKean, who lives in the English countryside, and Gaiman, who moved to the United States from England 13 years ago.

Friends since 1986, they met as aspiring comic-book creators on an anthology designed to showcase England’s undiscovered comics talent. It turned out the publication was a sham, the publisher having lied about almost everything, including his name and the magazine’s offices, but the work the new friends produced got them noticed by legitimate publications, and they made names for themselves with the comic series Sandman. Gaiman was the writer and McKean provided the covers for all 75 issues, which lasted from 1988 to 1996 and gained them an international following.

Additionally, they’ve collaborated on children’s books: The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish and The Wolves in the Walls. But collaborating on a book and collaborating on a movie are wildly different things, and their working relationship, which according to both men had always run smoothly, suffered some strains.

“We didn’t disagree up until working on MirrorMask, ” says McKean. “It was such a shock. We just really butted heads.” Some of the strain came from their restrictions. Gaiman, who’d previously written larger budgeted scripts for directors such as Robert Zemeckis and Terry Gilliam, had trouble reining in his creative impulses.

“I would come up with an idea and Dave would say, ‘No you can’t do that.’ And I’d say, ‘Why not?’ and he’d say, ‘Because we can’t afford it.’ There are shapeless black birds in the film because that’s really cheap to produce. I quite happily would have written eagles or something.” The arguments don’t seem to have fazed either man.

As Gaiman describes it, “We’re like two intersecting Venn diagrams. There’s this gray area in the middle where we meet. After 20 years together, we’re like this bizarre old married couple.”
–Patrick Day

Sep 27

From the September 25th Denver Post:

Having made his name writing comics (the award-winning Sandman titles for DC), where literati are concerned, Neil Gaiman came out of left field, taking best-seller lists by surprise. Novels such as Neverwhere, Stardust and 2001’s American Gods have only added to his reputation. And his talent stretches to the field of children’s literature as well: The Day I Traded My Dad for Two Goldfish, Wolves in the Walls and the young adult novella, Coraline, have become best sellers, garnering their fair share of awards as well.

So it’s no surprise to learn that Anansi Boys, a companion novel to American Gods, which won the Nebula, Hugo and Bram Stoker awards, has been highly awaited by legions of fans. It is no surprise, either, to find that Anansi Boys, while quite different from its companion novel, is just as well-written and just as likely to win a passel of awards.

Where American Gods used the elements of fantasy, horror and crime to impart a tale of ancient Gods living among humans and vying for a comeback, Anansi Boys employs fantasy, a touch of horror, a bit of crime and a whole lot of screwball comedy. At times, it seems as if Gaiman is channeling the spirits of writers like P.G. Wodehouse or the zany creations of ‘Tex’ Avery, both of whom are thanked in the dedication.

Protagonist Charlie Nancy, who still lives with his youthful nickname, ‘Fat Charlie,’ despite losing his childhood chubbiness, returns to Florida to attend the funeral of his estranged father. There Charlie learns that his father was actually the ancient West African trickster god Anansi, whose true form is that of an arachnid.

Unable to deal with this strange revelation, Charlie returns to London only to find he has a heretofore unknown brother. The brother, Spider, not only inherited some of their father’s godlike abilities, he got all of the wit, charm and appetite for causing trouble. Spider gets his brother fired from his job, arrested for embezzlement and brought under suspicion for murder, all while stealing Charlie’s fiance, Rosie, away from him.

When Charlie sets about the task of seeking revenge - employing dark magic - he learns some extraordinary truths about himself. Those revelations bring him closer to Spider as the two engage in a struggle with another ancient deity intent on exacting vengeance and destroying their family.

Like the dancing of Fred Astaire or the timing of great comedians, writing good screwball comedy is a task that can seem far too easy when, in truth, it is anything but. It takes a talented and insightful writer to pull it off. Not many contemporary writers can - Harlan Ellison and Colorado’s own Connie Willis are the only two genre writers that immediately come to mind - but, apparently, there isn’t much Gaiman can’t do when it comes to writing.

Anansi Boys is one of the finest screwball comedies to come down the pike since Willis’ ‘To Say Nothing of the Dog.’ Except when Gaiman does screwball comedy, he mixes in liberal doses of horror and crime. What’s more, he finds time to lay down a moral lesson about the strength of families and the essential difference in various races and ethnicities that is vital to the continuation of the human species - but not at the expense of the thrilling, spooky and wondrous tale that is the driving force behind this remarkable and entertaining book.
–Dorman T. Shindler


From the September 25th St Louis Post-Dispatch

Readers who enjoyed American Gods, Neil Gaiman’s 2001 award- winning novel, will fall madly in love with Anansi Boys, a companion novel of sorts. For those who haven’t yet encountered Gaiman — whose film collaboration with Dave McKean, MirrorMask, debuts Friday — prepare to experience a writer imbued with rich storytelling qualities and a boundless imagination.

Where American Gods used elements of fantasy, horror and crime fiction to impart a tale of ancient gods who were vying for a comeback, Anansi Boys employs fantasy, a touch of horror, a bit of crime fiction and a whole lot of screwball comedy. At times, it seems as if Gaiman is channeling the spirits of writers such as P.G. Wodehouse or the zany creations of “Tex” Avery — both of whom are thanked in the dedication.

Protagonist Charlie Nancy (who still lives with his youthful nickname, “Fat Charlie,” despite losing weight), returns to Florida to attend the funeral of his estranged father. Once there, Charlie learns that his father was actually the ancient, West African trickster god Anansi, whose true form is that of an arachnid. Unable to deal with this strange revelation, Charlie returns to London only to find he has a heretofore-unknown brother. That brother, Spider, not only inherited some of their father’s godlike abilities, he got all of the wit, charm and appetite for causing trouble.

Spider gets his brother fired from his job, arrested for embezzlement and brought under suspicion of murder — all while stealing Charlie’s fiancee away from him. And when Charlie sets about the task of seeking revenge — employing dark magic — he learns some extraordinary truths about himself. Those revelations bring him closer to Spider as the sons engage in a struggle with another deity intent on destroying their family.

Though it all seems to dance about like water on a hot griddle, Gaiman eventually makes the various elements (witches, half-animal creatures, romance, mystery, fantasy) fall into an understandable rhythm that gets to the heart of his story line. As John Irving once put it, despite the differences and individual quirks, every family is, to its individual members, “as normal as the smell of bread.” And once strong, familial bonds are formed, they can be as strong as tungsten steel.
–Dorman T. Shindler

Sep 27
Clippings
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Jennifer Vineyard has posted a good-size interview with Neil as part of a Mirrormask feature at MTV.com.

IGN Filmforce posted an exclusive clip from Mirrormask. The film was also discussed in the September 24th New York Post, the September 24th Salt Lake Tribune, and Horror.about.com

Vancouver’s Straight.com has announced a contest to win two free tickets to the reading and Q&A at noon on October 6 at the Vancouver Public Library. Rules are on their website.

A new review of Anansi Boys was posted on September 26th in the Austin American Statesman by Jennifer Nalewicki.

Finally, Locus’ Bestseller Monitor page should update today, but it may be too soon for Anansi Boys to appear.

Sep 26
Interview - Time Magazine
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Lev Grossman posted a very long interview with Neil and Joss Whedon done as background for an article on geek culture for the October 3rd Time Magazine.

Sep 26
Clippings
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Anansi Boys has capsule reviews in publications including Newsday and the October Men’s Health, in which it is described by Matt Bean as:

…A welcome quasi sequel to his novel American Gods, Anansi Boys is a comic examination of strained family dynamics made even more strained when a man discovers that his recently deceased deadbeat dad was actually an ancient trickster god.

Sep 25

From today’s Toronto Star:

When Neil Gaiman writes about gods, those gods are windows to ourselves, our faults, fears, gifts, aspirations. The parts of ourselves we dare not speak of.

Gaiman’s American Gods (2001) was an ambitious and imaginative epic about the history of belief in North America. In his new novel, the continent is a melting pot of beliefs from every settler who’s ever come to it, and the gods of the old world, spanning all contributing cultures, face off in a gruesome battle to the death with the new gods of the 20th century, such as Media and Technology.

American Gods was sweeping, philosophical, breathtaking. Anansi Boys presents a character from American Gods, Mr. Nancy. Most important, it airs the dirty laundry of his divine progeny, the Nancy brothers, as they grapple with his legacy. Anansi Boys is a great book; just don’t expect the same kind of deeply jarring experience that American Gods provided.

Anansi Boys is a comedy about two estranged sons and their dead father, Mr. Nancy, “the finest liar you’ll ever meet,” who is also the god Anansi. He is the spider, the trickster god who weaves tales and gives names to all things.

Anansi is the greedy but loveable figure who stole the stories from Tiger 10,000 years ago, who harnesses his cunning for doing less work, having more fun, and laughing in the face of death, even when he dies. And he’s died many times.

Inspired by the Anansi stories of west Africa and the West Indies, Gaiman offers a lighthearted tale about coming to terms with family secrets, with personal secrets, and with our humanity - or, in the Nancy brothers’ case, godhood. To Gaiman, humanity and godhood are often portals to one another.

To create this interplay between men and gods, Gaiman uses the Anansi brothers - plain old Fat Charlie and his precocious, charismatic brother, Spider. They are doppelgängers and they are something else, something even more deeply and hurtfully joined. They’re family.

Fat Charlie notes that Spider looks “like Charlie wished he looked in his mind, unconstrained by the faintly disappointing fellow that he saw, with monotonous regularity, in the bathroom mirror.” Fat Charlie is crippled by a morbid embarrassment brought on by his father’s trickery and hijinks. He just wants to live a quiet, respectable life.

Spider got all the god qualities, and he has been having an epic time with his powers. To make matters worse, Spider proceeds to masquerade as Fat Charlie, to bed his brother’s fiancée, to unsuccessfully blackmail his evil boss, and to invade his house. Basically, he ruins Fat Charlie’s life by doing a better job of living it than Fat Charlie seems to be able to do.

In the world of the Nancy brothers, even in the midst of their feud, there are grave dangers to face - such as their father’s murderous enemies (led by Tiger, who’s out for revenge). But Anansi Boys remains lighthearted and playful, even at its darkest moments. It’s one of things that make the novel so excellent.

The story is told in the same carefree, simple language and style of the Anansi stories that pepper the novel, in which Gaiman’s narrator explains how Anansi tricked the Bird Woman and cooked her in a pot; how Anansi stole the stories from Tiger; how he convinced his family he had died so he could poach the fat peas from his wife’s garden without interruption.

Gaiman’s tone lends the book the same effect as that of the Anansi tales themselves: You never take it too seriously, especially when the greatest dangers and sorrows loom. For example, Spider tells Fat Charlie, as they go on a raging bender to mourn their father, “sorrow settles upon us like pollen in hay-fever season.” Charlie, in his utter melancholy, looks out the window and notes that “an early dog walker, at the end of the road, was encouraging a Pomeranian to defecate.”

Does Anansi Boys stand on its own? Well, it’s not quite a sequel to American Gods. It’s more of a spin-off. Yet while Anansi Boys works without American Gods, it will be richer if you’ve read the predecessor, which provides a wonderful context for the Nancy brothers’ dilemmas.

Nevertheless, chalk this book up as another great work from Neil Gaiman. It takes the bright, eccentric humour we see in his children’s books and uses it to spin a deeply original adult novel about the frustrations - and occasional rewards - of family relationships.
–Kelly McManus

Sep 25

From today’s Pittsburgh Tribune Review:

About halfway through the writing of his new novel, Anansi Boys, Neil Gaiman had one of those moments of doubt that every writer fears. The manuscript, in Gaiman’s words, “was misbehaving,” and he was at a loss about what to do.

“I have no idea if this is any good,” he told his editor, who listened patiently for three hours on the phone while Gaiman read to her, his handwriting so idiosyncratic that a fax would have been so much gibberish.

The editor reassured Gaiman he was on the right track, that there was no need to write a more serious book. But the question remains how could such an accomplished writer doubt himself? Gaiman, the author of the acclaimed graphic novel series The Sandman and other works including the novel American Gods, is not exactly a novice.

But Anansi Boys is unlike anything Gaiman has done before, an almost light-hearted novel that is as much comedy as it is fantasy.

“Whenever you get in the field of humor, it gets a lot more problematic,” Gaiman says during a recent phone interview. “It’s why so many humorous writers work in teams. In teams you can tell immediately if something is funny because the other guy laughs. But if you’re sitting there in a room occasionally making little chucking noises to yourself, there’s no guarantee.”

What is guaranteed is that Gaiman’s rabid following will embrace just about anything he writes. The Sandman series, about a mythic character on a series of quests against varying historical backdrops, is one of the acknowledged classics of the genre.

Gaiman, however, seems to be equally adept at the novel form. His book American Gods won a Hugo Award for best science fiction/fantasy novel in 2001.

Anansi Boys covers the same territory, but with a different approach. Fat Charlie Nancy, who is living an ordinary, humdrum life that takes a detour when he finds out his father, recently deceased, was a god. And no ordinary god but one descended from the anansi, or spider, folk tales that originated in West Africa and spread to the Caribbean and especially Jamaica.

Gaiman, who calls himself a “mythology junkie,” immersed himself in folklore to research the book. The anansi folk tales of West Africa that provide the novel’s background are strikingly similar to the work of Joel Chandler Harris, the author of the “Uncle Remus” stories that featured Brer Rabbit.

“One of the interesting things about West Africa, which I sort of allude to in the book, is you get areas where the spider stories are told and areas where the rabbit stories are told,” he says. “But it’s the same set of stories. The Brer Rabbit stories just happen to be Brer Rabbit and not Brer Spider stories. That was the version that (Harris) heard as a title. But they’re just as likely to be stories about anansi.”

One of the pleasures of Anansi Boys is how Gaiman manages to blend fantasy and modern life. One particularly amusing section concerns a trans-Atlantic airplane trip Fat Charlie takes where a catering snafu results in only breakfast being served.

As it turns out, the situation really happened; only it was far worse in real life.

“When I was on that flight, it was delayed 12 hours, and instead of taking off at four o’clock in the afternoon, it took off at four o’clock in the morning,” Gaiman says.”Everybody was hungry, everybody was miserable, and then they discovered that all they had in the way of food was corn flakes, and with no milk and with no spoons, and only unripe bananas. Grown men began to cry in their seats.”

While he has had success in both the graphic novel and novel forms, Gaiman doesn’t have a preference, only saying that he gets enjoyment from both. The joy of Sandman, he says, was that everyone who read that series has the same image in their heads. In Anansi Boys, Fat Charlie probably will spawn as many different mental images as there are readers.

“I love the fact that there are people who will read ‘Anansi Boys’ and, if you read it fast and lazily, you may fail to notice the skin color of the various characters,” he says. “You are not going to know who is black and who is white. … You are certainly given clues enough to figure out everybody, but I don’t do the thing of actually saying he was black or white. … I love the fact there are people who will read the book and never notice that, and I could never do a comic like that.”

Gaiman is frequently asked why he works in the fantasy realm. It’s a question that baffles him, akin to asking why the moon is in the sky. To answer, he cites a G.K. Chesteron quotation about how the point of a vacation is not the destination but returning home.

“All the things you took for granted, you don’t have to take for granted anymore,” Gaiman says. “You are granted the ability to see them from a different angle, and to see them in a new unit of time. I think that is so important. When people say, ‘Why fantasy?’ I say with any luck I can send you home again and have you see it with different eyes.

Capsule Review
The mirthful legend of a West African fable provides the backdrop for Neil Gaiman’s new novel, Anansi Boys.
Gaiman skillfully integrates the spider tales of the trickster god in a modern setting, setting up the question: What would gods be like if they walked the earth? Gaiman’s answer is a madcap, screwball world that is partly absurd, occasionally humane and always entertaining.
– Regis Behe

Sep 25

From today’s Austin American Statesman

The world of mainstream comic books lately has turned into an unlikely magnet for writers renowned for their work in other media. Jonathan Lethem, Michael Chabon, Brad Meltzer and Denise Mina are just a few of the big-name authors who have recently turned their talents to superhero or horror comics.

Rarer, though, is traffic moving in the other direction. Few writers have turned a successful comic book career into fame in other media. Surely the most prominent is Neil Gaiman, who first gained fame in the 1990s as the author of the popular Sandman comic book. Gaiman has since become a screenwriter and the best-selling author of fantasy novels such as Neverwhere and American Gods. (Though he hasn’t quite left his old profession behind; his Marvel Comics miniseries, 1602, was the best-selling comic of 2004.)

Gaiman stays busy, but this is a particularly hectic month for him. His latest novel, Anansi Boys, came out last week and a movie he wrote, the visually stunning Mirrormask, opens in Austin this week. He’s also on book tour, which brings him to Austin on Monday. We spoke to him by phone from his home outside Minneapolis, where this native Brit now lives.

Austin American-Statesman: I saw a screening of “Mirrormask”, and what struck me was that, more than almost any movie I can think of, it gave me that feeling of almost physical immersion that I got as a kid reading comic books.

Neil Gaiman: Oh good.

Was that a feeling you and (director/visual designer) Dave McKean were going for?

In something like the “Star Wars” movies, they’re spending an enormous amount of money and computer time to make things look like reality — the actors are performing in front of a blue screen, but they’re working hard to make everything look very, very real; they’re making it look like a really real conference room.

I think from David’s point of view — and mine, but I really just got dragged along, saying, “Oh yeah, sure, whatever you say” — there was definitely a level on which we didn’t want to re-create reality. Everybody knows what reality looks like. And furthermore, reality is really expensive; we only had $4 million, so it was much more of a matter of what could we create out of the money we had. Part of it seemed like, “Let’s just create the world! There’s no reason why the sky can’t look like rusting metal.”

Some of that stuff came as a surprise to me. I’d write a scene set in the palace of the Dark Queen and expect it to be vaguely palacelike, with walls and stone floors and giant windows, and then Dave would give me something that looked more like the interior of a human body. Dave’s whole thing was, “I’ve taken the texture of a hummingbird wing” — no, the texture of a dragonfly wing — “and stretched it and done things to it.” And I just thought that was amazing.

The distinction between “tiger stories” and “spider stories” that you write about in “Anansi Boys” — that is, between stories whose heroes rely on brute force and those who rely on cleverness — reminds me of the difference between “Mirrormask” and most special effects-laden movies, which are about explosions and stuff like that. Most special effects movies seem to be “tiger movies.” Is it tough getting Hollywood to greenlight a spider-type movie?

I think it’s tough to get Hollywood to greenlight any movie. When Terry Gilliam was trying to make a movie of my novel “Good Omens,” he had Johnny Depp and Robin Williams as the leads, he had a script, he had Kirsten Dunst, he had $45 million commited from around the world, and all he needed was a Hollywood studio to say, “Here’s $15 million and yes, we will distribute it.” And he couldn’t get anybody to do that, and the film died. It’s very hard. Hollywood is run on fear, and they’re terrified. On the other hand, more and more of my stuff seems to be getting greenlit, and nothing so far that I’ve written has relied on brute force — not even the “Beowulf” adaptation that Robert Zemeckis is currently shooting. So I think we’re OK.

Your novel “Neverwhere” has such a deep sense of London as a place. I’m wondering if you think you’re at a stage — or will you ever get to a stage — where you have as deep a sense of America? Or does your outsider status give you some sort of advantage writing about America?

Well, I think the joy for me of writing “American Gods” was trying to write about a certain part of America, what tends to be known, rather foolishly, as “flyover country” — to give some sense of that place, or at least describe my reactions to it. And what was interesting was when I saw the reviews in places like New York or L.A., people were explaining how I completely missed America. But a lot of people in the Midwest were writing about how nice it was to see somebody writing about the Midwest that they lived in. The main conclusion I came to about America is that anybody who thinks it’s one country is deluding themselves.

Various African disapora folkways permeate “Anansi Boys,” but you hardly make a big deal about the race of the characters. In fact, I don’t think you ever refer to the characters as black — you simply refer to other characters as being white.

It always irritated me that white is often considered the default color in fiction. And I thought it would be interesting to write a book in which the reader was going to have to figure out the race of the characters. You don’t start a book with a white character and say, “This is a white character.”

New Orleans is often thought of as one of America’s more gothic cities. Does the city’s present destruction make it more difficult to write about magic in America?

I don’t think it makes it more difficult to write about magic in America. It does make it more difficult to write about New Orleans. I’ve been working for the past six months with some people on a TV pilot that was going to be set — the series was going to be set — in New Orleans. And now I’ve got a finished script that I’m staring at rather lugubriously, trying to decide whether to keep it in New Orleans — in a New Orleans that we might not ever be able to film in again, or least not for another year or two. I want to keep it there. But what do we do?
–Jeff Salamon

Neil is signing at 7pm tomorrow at Book People603 N. Lamar Blvd., Austin, TX.

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