And he was

You know how, when you really like something or someone—like a web-buddy or a band or in this case an author—there is a certain amount of trepidation, that niggling worry that when you finally get them in person, they are not going to live up to your expectations and therefore forever ruin your enjoyment of whatever it is. It's like those expectations you build up when you get really excited about a new film. And then you see it and it's verging on shithouse. And you get really pissed off with yourself and your intended and your infatuation and well everything.

David Mitchell lived up to the infatuation. What a genuinely nice, smart, down-to-earth fellow, almost shy with his stutter and his vewy, vewy soft rs. He read two passages from Cloud Atlas—the first consisted of the first few pages of "The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish", encompassing the rooftop cocktail party, and the second began with the legend of the origins of fire from "Sloosha's Crossin'" and ended with the raid. I reckon he read rather than spoke simply because it's tough to get up in front of bunch of people and dissect your own processes, particularly with regard to creative endeavours. And those who do are wankers. But while reading, he told those following along not to mind any differences between what he was reading and the text: as an author one is continually editing and re-editing one's work, he said, it is impossible not to, even long after it's gone to the publisher. What other gems did he drop for us mere mortals? That Tim Cavendish and Luisa Rey both appeared in Ghostwritten, similar to the way Eiji and number9dream developed. That he's got a 2½ yeaor old kid. That Cloud Atlas was inspired by Italo Calvino's If on a Winter's Night a Traveller, or the frustration of it. That he doesn't want to be known as the "wacky structure" guy.

The only way I can see him fucking up this wonderful relationship we've developed over the last 3 years is by writing a genuinely crap book. And that, my friends, doesn't seem as though it'll happen. Ever. The next one's about a 13 year old boy, vignettes set to a deteriorating domestic environment. So, yeah, I think he'll be stuck with the "wacky structure guy" moniker for a while yet.