STICKY Sad News for us all.

[MrsWizzard]

I'm not sure if anyone else has read this, but I've just read that he finished the next Tiffany Aching book in the summer and it's going to be released sometime this year. I'm going to be crying all of the way through it, but it's a comfort, no matter how small it may be, that we haven't quite read the last of him. It also warms me a little that his last one is around the character he's "had a particular fondness for" to paraphrase an interview I found earlier. Even in the end, it seems Mr. Pratchett's had one more trick up his sleeve for us, and has given us a goodbye. The greatest magician who ever lived. Excuse me now, I feel the tears coming again.

 

[raptornx01]

I'm sure not even that is the last we will see of his talent. beyond that one I'm sure he had one or two more kinda waiting in the wings. and maybe even a further draft/outline or two. Shall see what the future holds.

For now we honor his memory. Keep the ripples flowing.

 

[Catch-up]

I've mostly been pretending this hasn't happened, because I've had to keep moving forward and haven't had the luxury of time for a really good cry. But I did have a quiet moment where I just was in awe of all the people I've met, made friends with, all the things I've done and places that I've gone, only because of Terry's writing. He may have left us too soon, but he also left us all with some very precious gifts. I am so grateful for all of you.

 

[Tonyblack]

This is an interview from last night. Some bad language at the start.

 

[poohbcarrot]

Funeral Blueth
By W H Igor

Thtop the glath clockth, cut off the thpeak-to-people-a-long-way-away devithe.
Prevent Thcrapth from barking with a juithy bone.
Thilenth the pianoth and, with muffled drum,
Bring out hith coffin. Let the mournerth come.

Let fly-in-the-thky-like-birdth mathineth thircle moaning overhead
Thcribbling in the thky the methage: “He ith dead!”
Put crepe bowth around the thcabby neckth of the Ankh-Morpork doveth.
Let the Watch wear black cotton gloveth.

He wath my Hubward, my Rimward, my Turnwithe and Widderthinth,
My working week and Octeday retht,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my thong.
I thought Thir Terry would latht forever; I wath wrong.

The thtarth are not wanted now; put out every one.
Pack up the moon and dithmantle the thun.
Pour away the Thircle Thea and thweep up the Foretht of Thkund.
For nothing now can come to any good.

 

[MartinMacFeegle]

I am deeply saddened by the passing of Terry. His books were of great comfort to me when I was going through hard, lonely times. They were also my companions through the good times. I remember meeting Terry at a book signing for The Fifth Elephant. This was my first book signing and I was overwhelmed by the length of the queue. We were told that Terry could only sign for 3 hours and I thought that would be plenty of time to get my new book signed. As my turn got closer I started to get nervous. What would I say? Would I make a fool of myself? Others had messages or quotes for Terry to inscribe but my mind was blank, zip, and zilch. Terry greeted me with a warm smile and asked what I wanted him to write, I meekly told him that just his name would be fine. Then I started waffling and said that the book was an early Christmas present. He promptly wrote HO! HO! HO! drew a scythe and stamped it with the Lancre spud! Bang, my one and sadly only meeting with Terry was done. But in those thirty or forty seconds Terry made me feel welcome, and gave me a memory that I will always cherish.
When one of my all time favourite bands split up (Rocket From The Crypt) they released a live album of their last ever show. At the end of the gig the lead singer, Speedo, said that if we ever miss them just put on a record and they will be there. And so whenever I feel like "meeting" Terry again I pick up one of his books and read.
Keep reading.
R.I.P. Sir Terry Pratchett.

 

[Antiq]

Funeral Blueth
By W H Igor

Thtop the glath clockth, cut off the thpeak-to-people-a-long-way-away devithe.
Prevent Thcrapth from barking with a juithy bone.
Thilenth the pianoth and, with muffled drum,
Bring out hith coffin. Let the mournerth come.

Let fly-in-the-thky-like-birdth mathineth thircle moaning overhead
Thcribbling in the thky the methage: “He ith dead!”
Put crepe bowth around the thcabby neckth of the Ankh-Morpork doveth.
Let the Watch wear black cotton gloveth.

He wath my Hubward, my Rimward, my Turnwithe and Widderthinth,
My working week and Octeday retht,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my thong.
I thought Thir Terry would latht forever; I wath wrong.

The thtarth are not wanted now; put out every one.
Pack up the moon and dithmantle the thun.
Pour away the Thircle Thea and thweep up the Foretht of Thkund.
For nothing now can come to any good.

OMG! That is beyond awesome.

 

[michelanCello]

:clap:

 

[Antiq]

I posted earlier in this thread, but I couldn't really find the words to say what I wanted to say. I had a chat with my daughter last night (it was she who pestered me years ago to start reading Discworld, for which I am forever grateful) and we both realised that that is exactly what made Sir Terry so important to us - the fact that he could articulate the stuff we feel and know, but can't find the words for, with such clarity of thought and observation, homing in on instinctive truths like a heat-seeking missile. I think perhaps that's what makes his death so unusually personal for so many people. He, the man, was in everything he wrote, he was there. And he did that with such kindness and compassion and humour, so that we felt we could forgive ourselves for our human weaknesses.
It isn't simply that a favourite author has died, but a loving friend.

 

[DaveC]

Funeral Blueth
By W H Igor

Thtop the glath clockth, cut off the thpeak-to-people-a-long-way-away devithe.
Prevent Thcrapth from barking with a juithy bone.
Thilenth the pianoth and, with muffled drum,
Bring out hith coffin. Let the mournerth come.

Let fly-in-the-thky-like-birdth mathineth thircle moaning overhead
Thcribbling in the thky the methage: “He ith dead!”
Put crepe bowth around the thcabby neckth of the Ankh-Morpork doveth.
Let the Watch wear black cotton gloveth.

He wath my Hubward, my Rimward, my Turnwithe and Widderthinth,
My working week and Octeday retht,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my thong.
I thought Thir Terry would latht forever; I wath wrong.

The thtarth are not wanted now; put out every one.
Pack up the moon and dithmantle the thun.
Pour away the Thircle Thea and thweep up the Foretht of Thkund.
For nothing now can come to any good.

That wath amathing, Pooh!

 

[raisindot]

Funeral Blueth
By W H Igor

Thtop the glath clockth, cut off the thpeak-to-people-a-long-way-away devithe.
Prevent Thcrapth from barking with a juithy bone.
Thilenth the pianoth and, with muffled drum,
Bring out hith coffin. Let the mournerth come.

Let fly-in-the-thky-like-birdth mathineth thircle moaning overhead
Thcribbling in the thky the methage: “He ith dead!”
Put crepe bowth around the thcabby neckth of the Ankh-Morpork doveth.
Let the Watch wear black cotton gloveth.

He wath my Hubward, my Rimward, my Turnwithe and Widderthinth,
My working week and Octeday retht,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my thong.
I thought Thir Terry would latht forever; I wath wrong.

The thtarth are not wanted now; put out every one.
Pack up the moon and dithmantle the thun.
Pour away the Thircle Thea and thweep up the Foretht of Thkund.
For nothing now can come to any good.

Well done, thir!

 

[SpideyGirl]

Reddit Tribute

http://www.reddit.com/r/discworld/comments/2yt9j6/gnu_terry_pratchett/

 

[Aquamarine]

He had a good run, and didn't waste those 66 years. He gave himself a singular education with the library he visited and the popular culture he delved into, he wrote enough great books to make Harper Lee look like a slouchy premature quitter, and he made more people laugh, cry, think, gasp, roll their eyes, and go "Yep, that's life," than all the self-styled "serious" writers put together.

My biggest regret is that I never got to meet him in person. If I had, I would have shaken his hand for making the written word such a supremely fulfilling AND entertaining experience. His books will always have a whole shelf on my bookcase.

 

[chillicamper]

I'm still feeling so sad. But reading the outpouring of love for Terry is helping ease the pain. Reading about all the stories and memories - so many people touched by his words, helped, supported, nurtured by his books - what a legacy!

I have other authors I like to read, but TP was head and shoulders above the rest. I've probably posted this before, but there is no other author that has I've felt the need to dedicate special shelving for their books. These shelves for my TP collection were hand crafted from wany edged Yew boards that I had cut from the tree, planked, sanded and waxed myself. Nothing else but the best for his books - the books were crafted so beautifully that they deserved some properly crafted shelves.

There's also been some very poignant cartoons/drawings popping up on the net. I hope nobody minds me putting a few up here.

 

[Who's Wee Dug]

I'm still feeling so sad. But reading the outpouring of love for Terry is helping ease the pain. Reading about all the stories and memories - so many people touched by his words, helped, supported, nurtured by his books - what a legacy!

I have other authors I like to read, but TP was head and shoulders above the rest. I've probably posted this before, but there is no other author that has I've felt the need to dedicate special shelving for their books. These shelves for my TP collection were hand crafted from wany edged Yew boards that I had cut from the tree, planked, sanded and waxed myself. Nothing else but the best for his books - the books were crafted so beautifully that they deserved some properly crafted shelves.

There's also been some very poignant cartoons/drawings popping up on the net. I hope nobody minds me putting a few up here.

I really liked the first two Chilli, a little light relief in a period of darkness which we are all experiencing. :angelic-cyan:

 

[Watchman44]

Very sad news and even now I still get teary eyed reading all the tributes.

This is a very moving interview with his daughter from the Daily Telegraph.
"It was like having a full-sized hobbit for a father"

 

[wildvet]

Indeed, I am mourning, for the world has lost a great humanist. I never met him, yet I weep, while I never shed a tear for people I knew that had passed away. Such was his impact. I hope those ripples he caused will never die...
A grieving fan

 

[Tonyblack]

 

[raptornx01]

Did a picture in memorial.

http://raptor1701.deviantart.com/art/Th ... -520217155

 

[MrsWizzard]

I love all of the tributes. I sometimes feel silly for crying, but I love the feeling and connection I have with so many other wonderful people who feel as touched and inspired by Terry as I do. Here's my copy of The Color of Magic. You can see how much-loved it's been. (I also may have spilled some water [or an entire bottle thereof] on it as a kid, but it's mostly love )

I do have another copy, a signed one I bought off PJSM Prints last year, but I place sentimental value on silly things like books that are 30% masking tape, so I still sit up with this one when I like another read.