There aren't many celebrity obituaries that I feel drawn to write about, but the passing of Sir Terry affected me quite deeply. Most people remember what they were doing when Elvis died, or any of the other mega stars. On a wet, windy March 12th this year, I was at a bus stop outside college reading The Guardian news app, then phoned a fellow Pratchetian to commiserate.
I started to read his work as a young adult and quickly became immersed in the quirky, but immensely-believable Discworld series. He bridged the gap between fantasy fiction and humour, where indeed a gulf had been (fantasy fiction, although incredible in it's own right, tends to be a bit po-faced).
I think what was obvious is that Terry liked people rather than be a passive/judgmental observer of them and this was aptly-reflected in his work. You warmed to the curmugeonly-disposed Sam Vimes, the grubby-but-likeable Nobby Nobbs and the man-who-would-not-be-king Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson. You wanted to hang out with The Wyrd Sisters, learn The Hedgehog song and get the facts of life from Nanny Ogg.
Below is a link to The Guardian article written by his daughter, Rhianna - who gives a very personal account of life with her father, who ends the account by saying 'I like to think that wherever Dad is now, there is a hat on his head, a stick in his hand and a whistle on his lips. There’s probably a cat about somewhere too. There should always be a cat.'
Gods Bless You, Terry Pratchett
The Guardian Link - Sir Terry Pratchett HERE