Meeting Authors - what's a fangirl to do?

I'm meeting Neil Gaiman tonight. I'm simultaneously thrilled to the fingertips and chilled to my toes. What to do?

Authors are the influential figures in my life. I love music and movies, it's true, but it's really authors who capture my attention and gain my following. If meeting a musician, an artist, a television or movie star, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to conduct myself in a calm, steady manner. There'd be lots of smiling, of course...maybe even a tiny bit of gushing, but I'd have full control over my mental and physical capacities.

Well, except maybe for George Clooney. All bets are off when it comes to George

But authors? Well, I don't have a very good track record when it comes to authors.

Exhibit A: Michael Ondaatje

I've loved Ondaatje's books since I was a teenager, and one day I got the chance to go see him speak in the town where I was attending university. After agonising for weeks over which book to bring in case he was signing (I didn't want to be the girl who had just read The English Patient when I had in fact, read everything, but at the same time, TEP is my favourite of his so....It was one of the biggest dilemmas of my life!), I finally made my choice (I went with TEP on the basis that it may be the only time I ever meet him) and a friend and I made our way to the hall.

Michael spoke eloquently, and read some poetry, and I was a little melty puddle on my chair. During intermission, we wandered down to the foyer, and discussed the poetry, when Sarah said to me, "Don't turn around."

Reader, I turned around. And there was Michael Ondaatje this I---------------------I close to me.

Here comes the bad part. I was so shocked that I...er...well, I may or may not have let out a little shriek and whirled back around. Sarah, traitoress that she was, was doubled over laughing. Between gasps for breath, she said, "You have to turn back around. You can't be the girl who screamed in Michael Ondaatje's face." She was right. I turned around, gave him a little smile, asked him to sign my book - which he did, with his name only - and then watched as he fled across the room.

Exhibit B: Anne Gracie

I'm a lucky girl, living in Australia, where there are so many quality authors who are gracious and giving and very available with their time. I write a column for a state newspaper about romance, so I attend the Romance Writers of Australia conference every year. The day before the very first conference I ever attended, I read The Perfect Rake. Ooooh was I captivated. Ooooh was I in love. It was perfect, and I was ecstatic to be meeting the author the very next day.

Incidentally, the very first time I met Anne Gracie, she was wearing chilli peppers on her head. Not an intimidating figure, hmm? Well, for this young reader, she was. I carried my copies of her books on my shoulder for the whole conference (and they got really really heavy) before finally getting up the permission to ask her to sign them at breakfast on the last day. Very ineloquently, I might add. Not least of which because she'd known who I was (gah!) from the beginning, and had noticed my amateurish stalking attempts

Luckily, I've met Anne several times since then, and have managed to be completely coherent and redeem myself somewhat. Michael? Well, I never did see him again. But I have a signed copy. And I suppose that there's some comfort in at least being memorable as the girl who screamed in his face.

And now, Neil Gaiman. Tonight, however, I don't want to go three for three. So I've been practising not-stupid things to say all day.

So far, I've got 'Hi!' down pat. Wish me luck with the rest...

tags: australia  author  books  favorite books  kate  

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