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For those of my followers who are confused, here’s a brief explanation.

In the Discworld book Night Watch, the 25th of May is the anniversary of the Revolution of Treacle Mine Road, otherwise known as the Glorious 25th of May. This was a relatively minor skirmish in the city’s great history, a struggle for power, a liberation that removed a madman from the throne to replace him with a different madman. But it was the city fighting back against oppression and cruelty and torture.

And in the fighting seven men died. Seven graves in the cemetery. And those who were there wear the lilac to remember them.

Discworld fans use this date as a convenient date to honour Sir Terry Pratchett and to remember his work.

Because there truly are no books like them. They are so amazing, with Pratchett having an amazing insight into fantasy, as well as the depths of the human condition.

Night Watch especially shows this. It’s dark, it’s funny, it’s grim, it’s silly. It’s a book about inevitably, it’s a book about change. It’s terrifying, it’s bleak, it’s hopeful, it’s warm! It’s about a man reliving the worst days of his past, but he still strives to protect those he knows are lost. Because they’re not lost yet. They’re in front of him and he does the job in front of him.

Where, as civilians riot against the cruelty of the law, a man defends his watch house by sitting out front with a cup of lukewarm cocoa in one hand and a cigar in the other, telling the rioters he’s on break.

A book where a man must mentor his own child self. A book where he must walk his own past through the horrors he witnessed.

Where he gets so close to changing fate, before fate spins round with a haymaker.

And it’s also a book where the chant of the revolution is “Truth, Justice, Freedom, Reasonably Priced Love, and a Hardboiled Egg.”

Where there is an old soldiers song about angels sticking their arses in the air, that just might make you weep.

We love you, Sir Terry Pratchett.

How do they rise up?

We shared books, plays, travel stories, his wife’s recipes for cake, and my work woes, and in the end, I used to visit him at home at the end of his life at almost 90. Where we still talked about books and travel and correct comma placement. Our last meeting, I read him some James Joyce and held his hand.

No parts of it extended beyond the lines, and the paper ticket was clearly displayed, impaled on a horn.

CRIMINAL RECORD | 2.05 Duty of Care

Things that healed my heart and made me tear up in a good way: this.

— i see beauty...

I knew that intellectually but it never truly clicked until I opened an old favorite last night to get lost in for the thousandth time. But if you’re a fanfiction author, someone out there is reading and rereading your stories. Someone out there is loving your world and words not just once but over and over and over again.

That’s amazing.

So here’s a shoutout to the readers and rereaders. The commenters and kudosers and lurkers and everyone and anyone who has ever picked a fic up and loved it.

And here’s a shoutout to the writers, in case you need a pick me up or a slight bit of love. Somewhere, out there on a screen under a sky you’ve never seen, your story is coming to life.