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Tuesday, June 25, 2002
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Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite writers. He's got a
weblog now. I'm particularly fond of his writing these days because, though he's English, and this comes through strongly in his writing, he now lives a few hours north of me, near the Wisconsin-Minnesota border, a place that he describes in talks as "cold. Really cold. Science-fictional, end of the world cold." His entry for last Saturday starts
"The weirdness of the American upper midwest (where I live these days) is that you get long dead cold winters, followed by indeterminate springs, which transform, after weeks or days or occasionally hours, into sudden and intense summers of nightmarish fecundity: suddenly the world turns into a hothouse and everything grows, and grows, and the only problem is that you get complete ecosystems happening. "
