Down at the Toot 'N' C'mon
18 September 2006 08:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
larryhammerMy first book signing was by David Macaulay. He was touring for Unbuilding, which means I would have been twelve. I didn't buy that book, but brought my battered copy of Motel of the Mysteries, which I loved with the love of a 12-year-old kid. The sort of geeky kid who'd fallen for All Things Egyptian at the King Tut exhibit and set out to teach himself hieroglyphics. The sort of kid who compiled his own lexicon by pouring through books with photos of artifacts and copying out texts+translations. The sort of kid who kept it up for two years despite not getting very far, in part because I never quite grasped the concept of a logogramic system that's a mixed syllabary* and ideograms.**
If you've never met Motel of the Mysteries, I am so sorry. It's an archeology parody -- at the time, I caught only the Howard Carter riffs, but there's also Schliemann slagging plus the odd potshot at other old-time potdiggers. And I took it to Politics & Prose to have the author sign it. The act conflicted me -- I knew by then to never write in books, having not yet discovered the joys of marginalia, and here I was asking someone to write in one of my most precious volumes. But I steeled my nerves*** as I stood in line, and when my turn came, stammered out my request.
He was surprised by it -- at the time, I thought because it was an older book, though in hindsight, it was more likely at at seeing a copy of that in the hands of a kid. But he signed it, a sort of loopy scrawl, and told me, "If you turn it upside down, it's Walt Disney's signature." And it kinda does.
I still have that book. It doesn't get loaned, which means you all must acquire your own copies. Which you must do Soonest.****
* Though I was the sort of kid who knew what a syllabary was: my first conlang was all CV syllables and had a syllabary. In practice, I wrote everything in romanji, but in my mind, those were transcriptions.
** When I learned, much later, the concept of signs that exist solely to disambiguify, a flashbulb went off in my head. It was too late to apply this knowledge -- I'd long since lost what I'd learned and, more importantly, that lexicon.
*** That my mother was watching probably stiffened my spine more than I remember.
**** This Means You.
---L.
If you've never met Motel of the Mysteries, I am so sorry. It's an archeology parody -- at the time, I caught only the Howard Carter riffs, but there's also Schliemann slagging plus the odd potshot at other old-time potdiggers. And I took it to Politics & Prose to have the author sign it. The act conflicted me -- I knew by then to never write in books, having not yet discovered the joys of marginalia, and here I was asking someone to write in one of my most precious volumes. But I steeled my nerves*** as I stood in line, and when my turn came, stammered out my request.
He was surprised by it -- at the time, I thought because it was an older book, though in hindsight, it was more likely at at seeing a copy of that in the hands of a kid. But he signed it, a sort of loopy scrawl, and told me, "If you turn it upside down, it's Walt Disney's signature." And it kinda does.
I still have that book. It doesn't get loaned, which means you all must acquire your own copies. Which you must do Soonest.****
* Though I was the sort of kid who knew what a syllabary was: my first conlang was all CV syllables and had a syllabary. In practice, I wrote everything in romanji, but in my mind, those were transcriptions.
** When I learned, much later, the concept of signs that exist solely to disambiguify, a flashbulb went off in my head. It was too late to apply this knowledge -- I'd long since lost what I'd learned and, more importantly, that lexicon.
*** That my mother was watching probably stiffened my spine more than I remember.
**** This Means You.
---L.