American Gods

The newly adapted series to Neil Gaimain’s American Gods just released today and it is phenomenal. It’s everything that it should be and nothing more. I’ve never seen a more faithful adaptation. But that’s not really my point with this post.

It has dawned on me that Neil Gaiman has become my absolute favorite author. I didn’t realize this until I thought back to all of the novels that I’ve read by him. You can go back and see my post where I was first reading his stuff.

It’s a bit hazy now but I believe American Gods was the first book of his that I read. The Sandman next. Then Neverwhere. Or maybe the other way round. Either way, I’ve been systematically going through his bibliography and have yet to be disappointed. He deserves all the praise he has received.

He makes it all seem so easy. He hardly uses words that you are unfamiliar with, and if so it is easily divined through context. His plots are very natural and organic. Everything has its place and feels real.

He’s a genius, basically.

I’m glad I’ve found him. Or maybe it’s he who’s found me.

Desire

I’m reading through a Neil Gaiman biographic and in one section (lie, many sections) he’s talking about the impetus for his writing career.  And of course it forces me think about my own path.  And I think I have found one constant:

I want to do my own thing.

That’s it.  It doesn’t matter if it’s writing, or music, or psychology, metaphysics, whatever.  If it’s something I came up with and chose to do, I’m happy. If it turns out sucking, I’ll change to something else.  But it’s this freedom to stop doing one thing and start doing another that is enticing.  I don’t believe in restrictions and I don’t like being told how to think/speak/behave. Those are my own to divine and no one else.

And right now I just want to be lazy and read books.