GNU Terry Pratchett
Mar. 13th, 2015 10:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lokifanA couple of links:
The End
For Terry Pratchett
What can the harvest hope for, if not for the care of the Reaper Man?
My internet didn't work for like fourteen hours yesterday, and then I went to bed. So when I woke up a little bit ago, I immediately went to catch up on shiz and saw “with the loss of Sir Terry” and said out loud, “oh no.”
I keep reading little tributes to him and having to stop for a twenty-second cry.
Or remembering books of his I've loved and having to have a thirty-second cry.
Or thinking about how, the British SFF con scene being what it is, Pterry and I have – had – mutual friends and how devastated they must be. That is the bit that's reminded me of the physical pain in the chest that comes with grief. To quote![[tumblr.com profile]](https://www.tumblr.com/favicon.ico)
januarium, I know “so many people who were good friends with him, and people who were good friends with his work.”
God. I don't usually get upset, not really, over the death of public figures – not that it's wrong or silly to be, I suppose I just don't usually feel a personal connection. The only one I can remember before this was Diana Wynne Jones. But with authors it's different, at least for me. You read so much of their voice and their philosophy, and in Pterry's case (and Diana Wynne Jones') their generous response to people and life, and. Possibly this is a weird comparison because this was someone I did know and love very personally, but – I remember in the minutes after my uncle died, his brother said, “the world seems somehow smaller.” And the world seems smaller again today.
The End
For Terry Pratchett
What can the harvest hope for, if not for the care of the Reaper Man?
My internet didn't work for like fourteen hours yesterday, and then I went to bed. So when I woke up a little bit ago, I immediately went to catch up on shiz and saw “with the loss of Sir Terry” and said out loud, “oh no.”
I keep reading little tributes to him and having to stop for a twenty-second cry.
Or remembering books of his I've loved and having to have a thirty-second cry.
Or thinking about how, the British SFF con scene being what it is, Pterry and I have – had – mutual friends and how devastated they must be. That is the bit that's reminded me of the physical pain in the chest that comes with grief. To quote
God. I don't usually get upset, not really, over the death of public figures – not that it's wrong or silly to be, I suppose I just don't usually feel a personal connection. The only one I can remember before this was Diana Wynne Jones. But with authors it's different, at least for me. You read so much of their voice and their philosophy, and in Pterry's case (and Diana Wynne Jones') their generous response to people and life, and. Possibly this is a weird comparison because this was someone I did know and love very personally, but – I remember in the minutes after my uncle died, his brother said, “the world seems somehow smaller.” And the world seems smaller again today.
