This story came out in the March 2009 issue of Aoife’s Kiss. You can find me reading an excerpt here. And you can find the back issue here.

After 40, there’s not so much pressure. At least, I don’t feel the pressure. In fact, I feel released from the need to go out and hunt for THE ONE, THE ONLY, THE SOUL MATE (insert name/trademark here). What I do feel pressure to do is to GET ON with my life and not worry about whether or not some guy in a leather jacket with hot hair across the room approves of me or is attracted to me or thinks I’m too fat, too thin, too tall, too short, too blond, too brunette, too smart, too dumb…I’ve got things TO DO with my life other than waiting for some guy to dither around wondering if I’m good enough for him or if he’s good enough for me or any of that other crap. You either like me or your don’t. If you do, then say something. If you don’t, then stay out of my way. Or as another friend of mine put it, “Dammit, if you like me, why can’t you just f***in’ ask me out for a f***in’ cup of coffee and quit screwing around!” Yeah. What she said.

After 40, single people tend to already have full complete lives without a partner. They have friends, family, work, activities, sometimes children or parents to care for, dreams and goals they’ve been working on for years. Romantic companionship is an added plus to that life, but not a necessity. It’s supposed to add to an already full life. So, going out there occasionally to do the single thing should be fun. It shouldn’t be fraught with drama or desperation. It should be something you go out and do just like going to the movies or getting pizza. It’s something you want to do for fun and for you.

In that spirit, last night I attended a singles mixer in my neighborhood sponsored by SuperSingleMixers.com. It was at a local business, Fancifull Gift Baskets. There were tables set out with wine, cheese and chocolate to taste and try, plus you could purchase whatever was in the store. Things were normal spendy, not too spendy. It was a mixer for ages 40-59, so there was quite a range of people there. Yes, about 60% women, but the men who were there seemed decent. Rookie Macpherson is the person who sets these up. When I was speaking to someone they pointed out that other mixers they have more ice breaking activities. This was more of a stand around cocktail party where we all dressed up, attended, tried things, made small talk, etc. I’m notoriously bad at that really. As an introvert I’m perfectly content to just sit in a corner and watch. And when I do feel outgoing, I tend to befriend some cool woman in line who seems to know what’s going on (which is what I did this time, too). But, it was within walking distance and for $20 and a walk on a nice evening I didn’t mind dressing up a little (though I confess I did not wear dressy shoes and only wore walking shoes, but I also opted for jeans/nice shirt and leather jacket and not the nice dresses and great shoes other women there were wearing — and there were some AMAZING shoes) and seeing what I could see. Since it was within walking distance I wouldn’t feel trapped and like I had to stay if I didn’t like it. After all these things are supposed to be FUN. Right?

It was okay fun. I stayed an hour. Long enough for a couple of glasses of wine, but not long enough to get in on the dancing. I might attend again. Maybe. I would definitely go back to Fancifull Gift Baskets to do some shopping. They had some good wines there for a decent price, plus other comestibles I like to treat myself and others with on occasion. The olives were fantastic and I got to try some maple peanut butter. Yum!

I did meet a great woman there whilst standing in the too long lines. She was interesting to talk to and had been to the “unlock” mixers. And it’s always good to make a potential new friend and expand your world just a little bit more, so I put that in the plus column of this venture. She said the “unlock” mixers were more fun. The women get locks and the men get keys and you have to see which keys unlock which locks and so it makes you talk to people and interact more outside your comfort zone. At last night’s mixer I didn’t see too many people interacting outside of the groups of people they came with. And the area for dancing felt a little too much like high school to me (and I wasn’t one of the cool kids). But, it wasn’t bad or sleazy or desperate. A bit crowded for such a small space and the lines for wine tasting were way too long. Some people gave up and bought their own bottles to carry around with them for they and their friends. And I saw one group of women where they were calling a bar to check on happy hour, to see if they left now they would be able to make it in time. But a lot of others seemed to be having a good time.

I think the best thing of the night was finding out that my new friend was not only a computer database maven, but also a fellow writer. “Oh, you’re an interesting person!” Best compliment I’ve had in years.

According to his press release he is the “most famous author you’ve never heard of.” His recent books include Wolf in the Walls, Coraline, Stardust and The Graveyard Book. You’ll recognize that some of them have been made into movies.  You can find more of his books here.  (Don’t worry, it doesn’t link to Amazon. It links to his list of books on Harper Collins.)

I was going to take extensive notes. Learn from the Dream King. Uncle Neil. Or as my friend referred to him – the 12th Doctor….Time Lord Extraordinaire.

But when you’re sitting in front of one of your idols (and yes, I have a pic of him up at home. Above my mirror. I actually said to it tonight on the way out, “Hey, I’m going to see you tonight!” It’s a fan girl thing) you forget to take notes because you just want to listen. It’s what happens when Neil starts talking. You just want to listen.

Last time I saw Neil it was when he did a reading at an independent bookstore, The Booksmith, in San Francisco. It was in 1998, I think. There was a line up. My friends and I had been so excited to see him that we got there early. We got there early enough to actually have seats in front on the floor, though not early enough to actually sit in chairs. And people were standing and leaning and sitting wherever they could find a spot. And we ALL sat there trying earnestly to drink up more of the great Neil.

Stardust had come out a little earlier and we were all fans of Good Omens and Neverwhere and, of course, The Sandman graphic novels. We overheard other people in line say they hadn’t seen a line up close to as this long and with so many goths (there were a lot of goths) at The Booksmith since Anne Rice had come there to read and sign. I got my copy of Stardust signed there. He read from a book of his that had just come out. I can’t remember, but I think it was American Gods. And, of course, someone asked during the Q&A (as they always do) “When are they going to make a movie of Good Omens?” And at that time he had a pithy reply about how he and Terry Pratchett were no longer starving artists, so it would take lawyers in slim suits and even thinner brief cases spending time together  in a climate controlled room to haggle out rights before the movie even got written.

Tonight, more than 10 years later, the seats were better. We weren’t sitting on the floor at the bookstore. We had seats in the upper balcony of Royce Hall, which was mostly full. I don’t know how many people were there, but I think you could safely estimate several hundred. A thousand? And again — we were all earnestly waiting to hear the great Neil. People arrived early to get their seats right when the doors opened.

Now, the people who attend a Neil Gaiman reading/signing shouldn’t be too dim. If they’ve read his books and kept up, then they should have something going on upstairs. Or so you’d think. Yet, after David Sefton, the Director of UCLA Live, came out to not only introduce Neil but also spend at least 10 minutes telling us all to TURN OFF OUR PHONES and other electronic devices (only ones allowed being hearing aids, listening devices, pace makers and artificial limbs), there were STILL at least 5 times when a cell phone went off in the audience while Neil Gaiman was speaking. And let’s not forget all the signage explicitly stating NO electronic devices and TURN OFF YOUR PHONES. I mean really. Really? Yeah, really. David Sefton himself pointed out that if you were here to listen to Neil then you could be unhooked from the interwebs for an hour and a half.

I guess some people really are addicted to those little things. Either that, or they really don’t care. And that’s sad.

So, while I didn’t take extensive notes, I did take some notes in the dark with my atrocious handwriting. Let’s see if I can decipher them for you.

1) In which Neil discusses and reads a bit of a story about “Horror and the English seashore.” He could have been describing my adolescence in the Pacific Northwest. It was a lovely bit of horror.

2) Being known as a “crossover” writer. It wasn’t something he ever aspired to be. He just wanted to write about whatever he wanted to write about. That seems reasonable. And he has been lucky enough to have publishers who will let him do that.

3) Neil as Dr. Who – my note to myself as I noticed his affection for horror and the state of his hair.

4) The Graveyard Book – which either took 2 1/2 years to write or 26 years – depending on how you look at it. He just kept trying until he got it right. Little bit at a time. You know what I say, “Slow and steady wins the race…” That method works. And having an affinity for graveyards.

5) Talking about children (and this may been at the beginning and not here). If you raise your children well – if you do your job right – then eventually they go away. That’s just the way of things.

6) Reading some from Od and the Frost Giant. Sounds like a fun tale. I think I need a copy.

7) Q&A in which the first question was: What are the voices in your head telling you to do now? To which Neil replied – answer questions now, and of course, kill, kill, kill….Other questions included some people trying to get him to talk about Amanda Palmer, which he nicely sidestepped (while acknowledging). And then the inevitable, “When are they going to make a movie of Good Omens?” and this time he replied, “When they do.”

Reading his poem, Instructions.

And then filing out. I thought I wanted to buy a signed book in the lobby until I saw the crowd. And the friend I was with was also not a fan of the multitudes around the books. So, we went straight home. And while I came home early enough to actually do some work, I ended up writing this blog about Neil. Cuz…

I ♥ Neil…

But sometimes I will hear or read something outside of those times that will make me jerk my head up, and take another look around. Am I still doing the right thing? Have I totally f***ed up? Am I merely following in the tracks of others? Isn’t it okay to follow those tracks rather than remake the wheel? Or should I chart a new course? Go my own way?

I do this when I find myself reading too much what is going on online or in “Writers World” and find I am getting too invested in the arguments going on there. I end up realizing that going my own way includes both following what others have done before, if it seems to work for me, AND charting a new course when that seems to be the better choice. In the end, I need to put my head down and follow what’s important to me. And writing and publishing politics, national and international politics, and online social networking dramas, while important in their own way, aren’t going to help me get my work done. My stories and poetry will not be better by letting my time get sucked away and getting embroiled in conversations about well — so as not to single anything or anyone out — STUFF. It’s a Thinker’s Journey, not to either blindly follow along or blindly go off on your own, but to choose your path carefully amongst the reeds, hummocks, sticks, dirt, pine needles, cactus needles, mud, muck, rocks, grit, streams, pavement, roots, and bodies along the way.

Thinking of this reminded me of two things that I’m still pondering and I’ll leave you with. One is The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost:

The Road Not Taken

by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

And a second poem, but one I had written a long time ago when I lived in San Francisco:

Letter to a Friend
By Rachel V. Olivier
…you’re right, you know.
I was on the bus today,
reading over a man’s shoulder.
He was reading Dune.
The man who saw the future —
then collapsed into it.
Trapped on the Wheel of Fortune,
the man made the same mistakes, same choices,
over and over and over again.
Just one step off would save him —
save me.
I want to believe my future is
new fallen snow —
a clean page —
uncharted territory.
Not a path beaten down before,
over and over and over again —
just like the Wheel —
until nothing grows upon it.
So, you’re right to tear up your tarot cards
cast away your rune stones;
right to chart a new course on a different path
and leave it all behind.
Maybe this time if you —
if I —
if We—
step off the Wheel —
we’ll be free.