Random Crush Monday.

Today’s crush is William Gibson. I know he is closer to my dad’s age than mine, but this is a writer crush (and a reader crush) and that’s different from a jump-his-bones crush.

If I practice very, very hard I may one day be as good a writer as he is. But I wouldn’t bet on it. His writing is beautiful and lonely and a little bit hopeful. His characters make me think about the spaces between people and how even when someone is standing right beside you, they can still be unreachable. And that sometimes someone across the whole wide world is right there in your pocket.

His books are like poems to me. I reread them and I get more and more out of them every time. The first time I read a new one, I think, “That’s not going to be my favourite.” But then I compulsively  go back, and I end up thinking, “Oh. Oh, wow. What did you just do, Mr. Gibson?” (I can’t  call him William, even in my head.)

William Gibson lives in my neighborhood. Several of my friends have had conversations with him.  He walks along Broadway, and I’ve seen him tons of times, but haven’t been able to talk to him. I wouldn’t know what to say.

E sometimes warns me if he sees William Gibson coming. And then I get all blushy and stuttery so I couldn’t possibly say anything. But when I spy him by myself, I do some kind of adrena-freeze, and my eyes go very wide. Not good for conversation either. Also, I sometimes twitch.

All I’d really like to do is thank him for writing such striking analogies and such beautiful observations about what it is to be human.

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