Tinlging Feelings

You know that tingling feeling you get when you're reading a Discworld novel and it all starts to fall in place? I love that feeling. I got it last night. Several times, in fact. I was reading Unseen Academicals, and once again, Pratchett is his usual amazing self. It makes me mourn his illness even more. Not to mention everyone else who suffers from Alzheimer's.

That's the curse of being a "reader" from an early age. Sure, you get to wade through the complete works of Robert Heinlein, J.R.R. Tolkien and tons of others (mostly because that's what your dad's got lying around, of course). But the sucking chest wound of being an early "reader" is that some of your favorite authors aren't already conveniently passed away.

All those literary types get to ooh and ahh over F. Scott Fitzgerald and his collected works. But I get the joy of looking forward to the next {insert favorite author} book. Until I don't. I remember when Heinlein died. I went to my dad in tears. So many others of that generation have passed on, and the few who are still hanging in there frankly have days that are numbered. Of course, so do we all, right?

Still, all in all, I am immensely grateful for the tingling feelings that Terry Pratchett has given me over the years. I can't believe how lucky I was to get Mort by mistake from the SFBC.