I love my world now, too. And I love the world Neil Gaiman created in The Ocean at the End of the Lane.
I'd read that this book started as a short story, and couldn't be stopped. It grew. And it grew into a wonderful tale. Some of it, I feel sure, has deep roots in Gaiman's own childhood. The descriptions ring so true. And while I've heard him talk of his childhood, he's not necessarily mentioned magic, but undoubtedly that was present, for is there not a little magic everywhere, for those who care to look? This is a fairy tale -- not the sanitized, politically correct ones that are circulating today, but a real one, with good and bad, hope and fear, monsters and Hempstocks. Yes, Hemstocks. Lizzie Hempstock, who may, or may not be eleven, her mother, and Old Lady Hempstock, who remembers when the moon was made. And these Hempstocks may be distantly related to Daisy Hempstock in Stardust and Liza Hempstock in The Graveyard Book, or so says neilhimself (though in his blog, not twitter.)
|Don't bother me; I'm reading|
I think I love Neil Gaiman even more than Mrs Piper's gingerbread. And that's saying a whole lot.
Read the book.
* sunflower seeds