too many words

YES my brother in christ she WROTE THE PROPOSAL !

May. 17th, 2007

An Archive of One's Own

Like, there's a ton of shit on ao3 that I don't bother with because it is very much not my thing but I am deeply grateful that ao3 exists as it does because the things I do like, even the super fluffy g rated fics, would be considered just as "bad" by various religions and governments. And if I want to be able to read sweet gay coffeeshop found family or wish fulfillment time travel fixit featuring complex qpp and gay ships, the best guarantee of being able to do so is a place where everything goes. Because my "non-problematic" innocent fluff is absolute perversion according to some people. I know because they yelled at me before I turned off anon comments. And even the country I live in used to require unhappy endings for queer characters if it allowed them at all in many forms of media.

Roman glass bottle in the shape of a fish, 1st-2nd century AD, Zadar Museum of Ancient Glass

(And I also wrote for My Little Pony, which means I may have inadvertently contributed something to Seanan’s state of being. [Which I will file under the “Quiet Unholy Glee” heading.])

support fic writers! 

He was 23 when his first novel was published. After six years of writing professionally every single day. The Carpet People was a lovely novel, from a lovely writer, but almost all of Terry’s iconic truth bomb lines come from Discworld.

The Colour of Magic, the first ever Discworld novel was published in 1983. Terry was 35 years old. He had been writing professionally for 18 years. His career was old enough to vote, get married and drink. We now know that at 35 he was, tragically, over half way through his life. And do you know what us devoted, adoring Discworld fans say about The Colour of Magic? “Don’t start with Colour of Magic.”

It is the only reading order rule we ever give people. Because it’s not that great. Don’t get me wrong, very good book, although I’ll be honest I’ve never been able to finish it, but it’s nowhere near his later stuff. Compare it to Guards Guards, The Fifth Elephant, the utterly iconic Nightwatch and it pales in comparison because even after nearly 20 years of writing, half a lifetime of loving books and storytelling Terry was still learning.

He was a man with a wonderful natural talent, yes. But more importantly he worked and worked and worked to be a better writer. He was writing up until days before he died.  He spent 49 years learning and growing as a writer, taking so much joy in storytelling that not even Alzheimer’s could steal it from him. He wouldn’t want that joy stolen from you too.

Terry was a wonderful, kind, compassionate, genius of a writer. And all of this was in spite of many many people telling him he wasn’t good enough. At the age of five his headmaster told him that he would never amount to anything. He died a knight of the realm and one of the most beloved writers ever to have lived in a country with a vast and rich literary tradition. He wouldn’t let anyone tell him that he wasn’t good enough. And he wouldn’t want you to think you aren’t good enough. He especially wouldn’t want to be the reason why you think you aren’t good enough. 

You’re not Terry Pratchett. 

You are you.

“Yes,” I said.  “But I like seeing how authors grow.”