RIP PTerry. You made my sense of humor what it is, but more importantly you are the best example I know of channeled, righteous anger doing good things, doing great tings. You fought the good fight. Rest in peace.
I've been a fan ever since I came across The Colour of Magic at 13 in the high school library. For a while he was touring to NZ every couple of years so I saw a lot of him and saw the talks go from a meeting room at the library to a large auditorium that was overflowing. But there was always the most diverse range of people there. What an amazing creative mind.
I'm still trying to get a hold of his books, and I'm pretty sad about this. This seems like it starting to be another everyone dies type year.
Alright, here's a proper memorial poem (that's also about a friend of mine, because a conversation we had today) Spoiler: poem An author died, five days ago. An author died, his family cried. His fans cried to, since he had fans, Wails went up across the lands. Authors die, as authors do, Authors die, as people do. I forgot, and so did you, That PTerry was human to. I texted you, When I heard the news I don’t if that’s How you knew. I only cried today Because before I felt There was nothing left For me to say. I cried today for him And I cried today for you. When someone died we have to live There’s nothing else for us to do. You said it yourself He died, and infinity continued. We are, for now, Infinity, And so we shall continue. one for leonard nimoy, pterry's in this one too Spoiler: you're not supposed to die you’re not supposed to die fuck you, leonard nimoy, you’re not supposed to die. you’re supposed to go to space find a planet and come back, you’re supposed to come back, leonard nimoy not leave behind compostable waste. you helped me, leonard nimoy this awkward proto-geek who tried so hard to be the same, so hard to be unique. you helped me have a personhood you helped me find the words to tell of who i am today and who i ever were. i don’t know you in other things but Spock, unwanted shrine, who drove you to write I Am Not Spock it didn’t work, and now you’ve died. you died awhile back, Nimoy and now the world has moved to terry’s death, the discworld man who also helped improve. improve the world he lived in, and the minds of those who read the books he wrote and wrote and wrote near up until his death. i’ve heard you did other things then play the green-skinned man from mars, some songs, you wrote, and photographs, yours and never ours. you’re not with god, leonard nimoy you’re now nowhere at all, there’s nothing after human things end you’re just gone, and that is all.
I got sad when I read Raising Steam, you know? He wasn't dead yet. But I could only make it through a third or so of it, because it was so different. And I was sad then because I knew it was coming, and so when I actually heard about his death I was not as sad. But the other day I was rereading Thud! and I just thought, oh, we're never going to know what happens to Angua and Carrot, or how the Moist-Deworde-Vimes power triangle ends up affecting events in the city, and. ): was sad all over again.
