The first experience I had with Neil Gaiman was an audiobook of "Anasi Boys", and I loved it.
I then proceeded to read "American Gods" and understood why Clive Barker, my first love of fiction, enjoyed his art.
The issue is the dreams I have been having, as well as the reality I have been having.
I dreamt of spiders crawling on me, and not reacting in a negative manner. I enjoyed the spider creeping across my chest and arms and could see the features of each spider vividly.
The next morning, my 3 year old son noticed two spiders perched on seperate webs, about 10 feet above my front porch between the two Crepe Myrtles that framed our front door. These spiders were fat, and by the next day they were gone.
I haven't seen these spiders since, but an unusual wave of good luck has befallen me, and I think I am going to write a story about.
Let me know what you think...
There's no such thing as perfect writing, just like there's no such thing as perfect despair.