Queuebuster.

I’m currently wetter than a duck’s arse. Is…is that a legitimate thing? It is now.

Cheltenham has, tonight, turned into a tribute to the Lost City Of Atlantis. I practically had to wring my shoes and coat out upon my return to the house, as somebody (me) managed to leave their umbrella at home. What a bloody dipstick.

But what was worth getting absolutely soaking wet for? A chance to see Neil Gaiman talk at the Lit Fest (he was so engaging, and charming, and funny) and meet him at the signing afterwards.

I’ve got massive respect for him, as by the time I got to the front of the queue, I’d already been waiting for an hour, and there was probably another two hours worth of people behind me.

He asked the Waterstones staff to go and bring any kids to the front of the line, and the staff themselves started handing out sweets to those of us who were waiting.

It’s probably the nicest, most polite queue I’ve ever been in. And getting to meet Neil Gaiman, and get my books signed was just the icing on a very lovely cake.