The New Yorker has a partly good and partly annoying profile of Neil Gaiman up.
Gaiman comments on the profile:
It’s pretty good actually, although given the amount of time I was on the phone with the New York Times Fact Checker for, I’m surprised at the number of things Dana still got a little bit wrong (from the Golden Age Sandman “killing” people with his gas gun on up, or down). I found myself feeling protective of the readers, and was disappointed that there wasn’t actually more about the stories in there: the huge signings and bloggings and book-sales numbers [and] such are a tiny by-product of the stories, and, for me, not the most interesting bit (it would be like seeing someone describing a classical concert: the funny man with the stick waving it around at the front, and all the people in their best clothes sitting patiently while other people blow or pluck or scrape or bang at things on the stage, which all seems a bit peculiar if you aren’t talking about the music). Glad it’s done, though.
He talks some more about the profile here.
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