It’s not worth doing
something unless someone, somewhere, would much rather you weren’t doing it.
Terry Pratchett, from the foreword to The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Fantasy, by David Pringle
Hello Everyone,
I'm sitting, rather stunned ... browsing 'round the internet reading variations on the same reality: Terry
Pratchett died today, at home, in England.
He must have set up ahead of
time the announcement that went out over his Twitter feed ... one of his most
important characters, Death, saying in unmistakeable capitals: “AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER.”
... and the curiosity of the
author as he began his next journey: “Terry
took Death’s arm and followed him through the doors and on to the black desert
under the endless night.”
Pratchett was good friends
with author Neil Gamon, who wrote a while back about the coming death of Pratchett:
“As Terry walks
into the darkness much too soon, I find myself raging too: at the injustice
that deprives us of – what? Another 20 or 30 books? Another shelf-full of ideas
and glorious phrases and old friends and new, of stories in which people do
what they really do best, which is use their heads to get themselves out of the
trouble they got into by not thinking? ... “I rage at the imminent loss of my
friend. And I think, ‘What would Terry do with this anger?’ Then I pick up my
pen, and I start to write.”
So far, this little note is all I've written ... and, of course, most of the words aren't even mine. I'm feeling a little numb.
But I'm sure I'll start raging about something soon, as soon as I read the news or my emails, listen to the radio or television, start thinking about Prime Minister Harper ...
... I'm feeling energy already.
Much love,
Why's Woman
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