Folks
Having read through all of your wonderful tributes to the Great Man, I'm genuinely sitting here in tears.
Not a bad word for him and long may that continue.
D
The BBC has announced that it will this year broadcast Terry Pratchett's last story: His own. Sir Terry's Alzheimer's prevented him from finishing this work, but the BBC has completed its "poignant and humorous documentary" to tell the tale of the creator of the Discworld series of fantasy novels, whose books have sold over 85 …
I think that's because he was, by all accounts, genuinely a nice, decent person.
All too often we hear that the real person behind a famous persona has feet of clay - "oh, in person he's actually kind of an asshole", or "that charm is just an act, she's actually a mean so-and-so". But I can't recall, in any interviews/programs/comments, ever hearing someone with a bad word to say about Terry Pratchett. In my own tiny encounter with him as recalled earlier in this thread, he was tact and kindness itself - he gracefully covered for my gauche flub without making me feel small in any way. A lesser or crueller man might have taken the cheap laughs option and ridiculed me for not knowing that book dedications typically don't include the surname.
@David 132: In my case they don't even include my real name. Every one is signed "to Alien". It's interesting to see how his signature changed over time, from his full name being signed to an almost illegible scribble of his initials in later books. But all signed with a humour that is deeply missed.
The Shepherd's Crown (the last Discworld book), has been sitting on my bedside table for over a year - but I can't bear to start reading it, because once it's finished, there will never be any more.
I like to think of myself as a rational being - but one of the things Sir Pterry did best was debunking the mythologies we maintain about ourselves, and I feel much richer for having his perspective on how ridiculous I really am.
Same here, mine was a gift and I cried when I got it for that very reason. I was bloody surprised when the person giving me the book said:
Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?
because they've never read any of his many wonderful volumes and had picked that up from an obituary. Made me smile though.
Not my writing, but quite appropriate
The following was circulated on the intertubes at the time...
"I would like my pudding now nurse. And then I think I'd like to... write... something... I don't remember what."
Standing in the corner, he waits. The sand slowly flows, but it nears its end. The old man still glows, as thousands of threads spread away from him.
SQUEAK.
I AGREE. IT IS A SHAME TO SEE HIM THIS WAY.
SQUEAK.
NO. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN.... BUT I CANNOT WAIT TO ASK HIM HOW IT ALL ENDS.
The old man looks up, through them at first... and then he sees them. For once, the smile on the hooded figure's skull is genuine.
"I... I remember you. The anth... ant..."
ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION.
"Yes, that. We knew each other?"
ONCE. AND WILL AGAIN, SIR.
He so rarely said it, and these feelings... remembering his young apprentice, and beloved daughter. The beautiful child they have.
"There... is a girl, yes?"
SHE IS SPEAKING TO THE AUDITORS, SIR. THEY ARE UNWILLING TO LISTEN.
"Well then. You know what they say, two things you cannot avoid. Taxes and..." He looks into the fiery blue eyes, and becomes aware.
SQUEAK.
"Quite right. Is it time already? I have so much left to do."
YOU HAVE GIVEN ALL YOU CAN SIR.
"No, not cancer. Alzheimers."
I AM AWARE.
"So, where is the boy? I remember a boy."
CARRIAGE ACCIDENT.
"Ahh. Never much trusted cars. Or horses."
THEY GET YOU WHERE YOU WANT TO GO.
"Must I?"
SOON. BUT WE MAY SIT HERE AWHILE.
SQUEAK
DO YOU HAVE ANY BISCUITS?
"No. Shame really."
YES.
"Is it truly turtles?"
ALL THE WAY DOWN. I HAVE SEEN THEM.
"Ahh. I would love to see it. Perhaps a small trip before?"
IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE.
"The light is slower there... and there's a monkey...."
ORANGUTAN. SAME PRINCIPLE.
"Yes... will they remember me?"
SQUEAK.
"What was that? I could not hear you."
HE SAYS WE WILL, SIR.
"I never much liked the trouble people had with you. You seem like a nice fellow."
I HAVE MY DAYS.
"Don't we all?"
SOME LESS THAN OTHERS.
"Is it quick?"
YES. AND I BROUGHT THE SWORD. CEREMONY DICTATES IT.
"Ahh. How about a cup of tea?"
I WOULD ENJOY IT. DO YOU PLAY CHESS?
"No. how about checkers?"
And so they sat, two old friends regaling each other, though the old man could not remember all of the details, the cloaked man and his rat filled him in, when it was needed.
- by Nick Mogavero