Remembering Sir Terry Pratchett

Today would have been Terry's 67th birthday.

It's a little over six weeks since that awful day when I heard the news. 

I'd popped in to my mum's to check on her dogs on my way home from work, and my phone connected automatically to her wifi. It fired off about seven or eight messages in quick succession (I work in an area with a very weak signal, so this often happens when I return to civilisation).

I let the dogs out and swiped my phone to read the first message.

Oh sad news today. X

I was confused. Sad news about what? About who?

I checked the next message.

Have you heard about Terry? So sorry Lou xxx

I felt like I was about to throw up. I googled his name and there it was. I checked Twitter, just to be sure.

AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER.

I sat on the floor and burst into tears.

The next morning, one of my pupils came straight up to me on the playground to ask if it were true. When I said yes, she gave me a hug. I needed it.

My pupils know what a fan I am: they've heard all my Discworld stories and in-jokes, can count in Troll (one, two, many, lots) and, last year, our class novel was Truckers. (When I met Terry in 2012, I told him I was a "Pratchett-pusher", which I think he liked.) They saw how sad I was; they noticed how I've worn my turtle pin every single day since his death; they'll understand why I'm wearing a black hat today. The Turtle Moves, and it moves through every reader who loved his words.

Last week, one of my pupils, the same one who hugged me, gave me this:

 

 

 Dear Terry Pratchett,

We know you're gone. But I still wanted to wish you a "Happy Birthday".
You are a brilliant author and you will be missed.
By the way my teacher (Miss West) is your biggest fan, she also gets inspired to write books like you.
At school we've got all (most) of your books.
WE'RE ALL BIG FANS!
Hope you were here Sir Terry Pratchett.
Take care of yourself,
from Natasha
x

 

More hugs, and a tear or two. The Turtle Moves.

If you'd like to read my post from that day, you can find it here.

RIP Pterry

As you've probably heard, we lost a great man today.

Terry Pratchett, the fantastically and deservedly successful author, passed away as he wanted to, in his home, surrounded by his family, with his cat sleeping on his bed.

I don't even have the words for how sad I am feeling right now.

And it was his words that I loved. No other author has shaped my personality with his ideas as he did, spoken to and resonated with me as his characters did, changed my view of the world, of life, of religion and love and honesty and humanity as his writing did. There isn't a single day I don't see Discworld somewhere.

I had the honour of meeting him in 2012, and those hours sat in the bar chatting with him over a couple of pints (he had a pot of tea) will always be a treasured memory. He was as fascinating and witty in person as he is in his novels. Despite the "embuggerance" taking a hold, his conversation sparkled as much as it challenged my thinking (yet again). I came away with the same feeling that I would no doubt have had if I had spoken to God. And, in terms of being a creator, he was a god to me.

I will always be so, so grateful for the words he gave us but so, so, so selfishly devastated for all the words he had left that we'll never get to read.

My only comfort today is from these words, his words, that prove he will never be forgotten:

"...no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away..."
Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

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Today I have to kill a character. And it will break my heart.

I know I shouldn't be so attached to imaginary people who only exist inside my head, but it's difficult, when I've heard their voices, watched their movements, known their loves and fears and hopes and dreams to end it all with a few taps on a keyboard.

But it must be done. Just not quite yet.

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Two days ago, the much-loved and esteemed leader of the Border terrier posse on Twitter, @marleyterrier, died. He was a dog, albeit one with a dedicated Human typist, who shared his friendship and words of wisdom on a daily basis, and connected hundreds of Twitter-loving pets (and their owners, obviously- dogs have trouble with keyboards). To those of you who don't have a pet, the outpourings of grief that followed the news of his passing may seem silly, trivial even, when there is so much else to feel sad about in the world. But many will understand that the passing on of a beloved pet over the Rainbow Bridge brings as much sorrow as their lives brought joy.