THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARD ‘BOOK OF THE YEAR’ AN ACCLAIMED WEST END THEATRE PRODUCTION *****
‘Neil Gaiman’s entire body of work is a feat of elegant sorcery. He writes with such assurance and originality that the reader has no choice but to surrender to a waking dream’ ARMISTEAD MAUPIN
‘Some books just swallow you up, heart and soul’ JOANNE HARRIS
‘Summons both the powerlessness and wonder of childhood, and the complicated landscape of memory and forgetting’ GUARDIAN — ‘My favourite response to this book is when people say, ‘My childhood was nothing like that – and it was as if I was reading about me’ NEIL GAIMAN
This is what he remembers, as he sits by the ocean at the end of the lane:
A dead man on the back seat of the car, and warm milk at the farmhouse.
An ancient little girl, and an old woman who saw the moon being made.
A beautiful housekeeper with a monstrous smile.
And dark forces woken that were best left undisturbed.
They are memories hard to believe, waiting at the edges of things. The recollections of a man who thought he was lost but is now, perhaps, remembering a time when he was saved . . .