I looked at the dusty, steampunk things in Doctor Who's TARDIS, and had an urge to pop a widget in my coat.'

Deep within a dense forest in the arse-end of Wisconsin, USA, sits a sprawling, weird, roadside tourist attraction, perched on a mound of stone. As Bizarre enters through the visitor centre and walks past the ticket desk, there’s no whiff of the insanity that lies beyond. But walking deep into the bowls of the resort, we discover an endless maze of madness, like a bric-a-brac shop in Michael Jackson’s Neverland. We’re at HOUSE ON THE ROCK to meet sci-fi and fantasy writer, Neil Gaiman.

HOUSE OF WORSHIP

This highly unlikely place in a small village in Sauk County captured Gaiman’s imagination during his first visit in the early 1990s, and he implanted it in his award-winning 2001 novel, AMERICAN GODS. The House On The Rock was built by eccentric architect Alex Jordan, who erected a Japanese-style dwelling on top of ‘Deer Shelter Rock’, just to see if he could.

After popping a picnic table outside, the building became a simple tourist spot and, gradually, Jordan started to fill the house with antique vases, Japanese trinkets and an orchestra of instruments that appeared to play on their own.

When he extended the place and added more rooms, he stuffed in even more unusual wonders, including a steam train and the world’s largest carousel. Now, the House On The Rock is such an incomprehensible hotchpotch that Gaiman had to tone down his descriptions of it in American Gods to make it more believable.

Gaiman’s not here on a sentimental visit, though. After realising that an increasing number of folk with unusual hair colours and alternative clothes were turning up at the house clutching battered copies of American Gods, the owners of House On The Rock invited Gaiman and his fans to their attraction for a special event to pay homage the author, his book, and the place that inspired it.

“My initial reaction to this place was delighted bafflement,” Gaiman remembers, fondly. “What I loved most is that I couldn’t tell why anybody was here. People came, paid a fair amount of money, walked around and left happy. It’s almost like a religious experience.”

We’re sitting in the Alex Jordan Centre, the first stop on a tour dedicated to the architect of this wonderful, muddled project. Gaiman’s typically dressed in black, sweeping his hand through his mop of floppy hair, waiting to greet an expectant army of his followers who are crammed into a massive tent outside. Soon, he’ll go on stage and read them a passage from American Gods to sate their appetite, but for the next half an hour, he’s ours.

PICK YOUR GOD

Earning cult status as soon as it was published, the novel explores what people choose to put their faith in. Old traditional gods slowly lose their power as people turn away from them, and are replaced by deities of transient things in society, such as celebrity, technology and money.

“It’s a metaphor for the way in which people come to America and give up their cultures,” Gaiman explains. “Given that I wrote the book 10 years ago, I’m grateful that the character that portrays the god of the internet is still just about recognisable, but I feel sorry for the god of media. She’s not what she once was.”

As well as book signings, literary panels, talks, and presentations, the highlight of this weekend’s line-up is the American Gods costume contest, judged by the writer. The prize is very special.

“The winners will be the first people ever to ride the World’s Largest Carousel, so no pressure there then!” Gaiman laughs. “I’m wondering what sexual favours I’ll accept as a bribe because I think my decision will come down to that.”

The World’s Largest Carousel resides within the bowels of House On The Rock, in a gigantic room filled with burning lights and blaring fairground music. Gaiman featured the ride in his book, and the main characters travel on it into the mind of Odin, a God from Norse mythology.

The chance to be the first to go on the carousel is causing ripples of excitement among the fans. The turn-out is impressive. Swarms of visitors – quaffing wine – are dressed as Egyptian gods, creatures from the underworld, and the dead. A few have even turned up as Gaiman, wearing dodgy wigs and replicas of his signature black leather coat. The book-signing queue is spilling out of the door, almost hitting the car park.

“Most of my fans are incredibly loyal,” says Gaiman. “Apart from a few, who think, ‘We loved him when he was ours, and nobody knew about him, but now people know who he is.’ Then they go and find someone they’ve never heard of. In truth, those people have my sympathy. I know I would never have picked up a Stephen King book if I hadn’t started with Salem’s Lot or Carrie in 1975, before he was the biggest thing in the world.”

THE WANDERING TIME LORD

There’s also curiosity and fear among Gaimanians today, as there are rumours that a film adaptation of American Gods is on the cards.

“I’ve already said, ‘No’ to a lot of Hollywood adaptations of American Gods,” says Gaiman. “People want to make it into a film, but I don’t know how it should be made. I grew tired of stories told in 124 pages, with beginnings, middles and ends in all the right places, so I wanted to write something that sprawls and goes wandering. I guess American Gods was a glorious ‘fuck you’ to Hollywood. But I have said, ‘Yes’ to someone who wants to make it into a TV series.”

Television sits more easily with Gaiman and earlier in the year he got the chance to fulfil his dream of writing an episode of Doctor Who.

“I’ve loved Doctor Who since I was three,” he says. “Writing an episode was magic. Although, budget constraints meant a lot of re-writing and cutting out brilliant stuff because extra shoot days were too costly, which wasn’t so fun. But I did get to wander around in Christopher Eccleston’s TARDIS,” he adds, grinning. “I looked at the dusty, brass, steampunk things in there, and had an urge to pop a little widget in my coat, except then I’d have a widget, completely devoid of context. I’d feel like an idiot, saying, ‘Hey, see this little switch? It’s from the TARDIS.’”

WHIRLWIND RIDE

If Gaiman had any more fingers in any more pies, he’d have trouble tying his shoelaces. Last year, he toured with his girlfriend, the punk-cabaret musician Amanda Palmer, wrote an Anansi Boys script for Warners, started creating a children’s book, and entered discussions about the possibility of televising The Sandman comic.

Gaiman’s next project will be a non-fiction book about the 1978 Japanese series, Saiyuki, better known as Monkey after it was dubbed into English and shown on the BBC from 1979-1980. “What fascinates me about the story behind Monkey is that it’s true,” says Gaiman. “In the seventh century, a monk called Xuanzang did travel from China all the way to India and bring back Buddhist texts. I love that. I also wanted to understand more about China, so it seemed likea good excuse to travel there and write about it.”

Our time’s suddenly up, and we leave the centre, discussing Gaiman’s favourite Doctor Who actor, Patrick Troughton. Walking towards the large, circus-like tent, we can hear the buzz of the crowd and, without taking a breather from our interview, Gaiman walks into a sea of camera-flashes, clapping and cheering.

Bizarre reluctantly hand him over to his adoring fans to let them meet their American God.

For more, visit Neilgaiman.co.uk and Hotr.org uk