*bangs head on her copy of At Swim*

[mrsronweasley]

simster has just killed me. From a 6,000 mile distance, he has killed me. With a very heavy book - impaled upon my own sword! Here's a, er, highlight from his visit to Jamie O'Neill's reading in San Francisco. I swear to God, this man will soon have a restraining order against me, and I didn't even DO anything! Good lord, what have I started?!

(The only reason I'm not linking to Sim's post itself is that there are BIG FAT SPOILERS at the beginning of the entry. Here's the part of the reading that nearly did me in. I howled with laughter and then I pawed at the ground because there was really nothing left for me to do. Sim, you're a dead man. Thank you.)

~*~

I got in line and waited. Mr. O’Neill eventually came out and sat down and began signing. Now this is exactly why I never felt compelled to go to a book signing. I have all these questions about the book, so many things I want to ask him – about his life, his inspiration for the book, etc. And what do I say when it’s my turn?

Me: “Hello, Mr. O’Neill,” I say shakily. He looks up at me with a welcoming smile. “I really enjoyed your book.” [I’m so articulate, aren’t I?]

JO: “Oh, thank you,” he smiles more as I hand him my book.

Me: “A friend of mine highly recommended it to me. I believe you know of her. Liz? She sent you a drawing a couple weeks back.”

JO: His eyebrows shoot up. “From Brighton?” he blurts out. [Still breathing, Liz?]

Me: Smiling, I say, “Yes, that’s her. She’s been recommending the book to everyone she knows –- and even to people she doesn’t know.”

JO: He leans back in his chair, grins, and shakes his head looking very, very amused. “I need to hire that girl as my publicist.”

Me: “I’m sure that would make her very happy. When I told her you were coming to SF she encouraged me to come see you in person, and I must say I’m very glad I did.”

JO: His smile widens. “Well, thank you.” He thinks a bit then says, “There was another girl in NY. Melissa, was it?”

Me: I nod.

JO: “Yes, I remember she had just finished the book.” He says this as if it’s a fond memory for him. He quickly comes back to the present. “And what’s your name?”

Me: I give him my name.

JO: “Would you like me to write it along with the inscription?”

Me: “Yes, please do.”

So he signs the book and hands it back to me, all smiles. This guys sure smiles a lot.

Me: “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.” And I didn’t even intend to say this; I swear it just came out: “And Liz says hi.” [Checks Liz's pulse.]

JO: Huge smile, showing all teeth. “Well, thank you. And please tell her I said thank you.”

Me: “I will.”

Then I left. I wanted to stay and ask him so many questions but I didn’t want to hold up the line. Plus, I imagine you never say what you want at these things. You have all these questions, but as soon as you try to ask them, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is, “I enjoyed your book.” Doh!

~*~

*dies*

That's it. I have blown any chances I ever might have had for retaining my dignity when it comes to this man. I will either be thrown in prison for other-person-stalking or become his publicist and have a pint with this man every Friday night.

*goes back to her &*%£"£$$$ essay*