Category Archives: books

to Anne McCaffrey

Dear Anne,

You and I never met; I always wanted to travel to Ireland and run all over the country until I managed to just bump into you somewhere. I know that this was–and continues to be–a ridiculous dream, but there it is all the same.

Reading your books when I was young was one of the reasons I started writing. It wasn’t the only one, of course. A writer’s gotta write, no matter what. But I devoured your books like I was starving, and those books made me dream about writing stories like yours. I’ve started hundreds of stories, and finished maybe thirty of them. Most of the rest are kicking around either on paper or on a hard drive somewhere, but that’s not what matters to me. What matters is that they’re there. You didn’t know it, but you were a big part of that.

When I heard about your death last week, I cried. Like I said, we never met. I never wrote you fan letter, and I probably made you very little money by purchasing your books (though my hometown library is still running these days due in part to all the fines I paid over the years!). But you were valuable to me, as an inspiration, as a dream, and as a woman. Thank you for the hours and hours and HOURS of delight and wonder you’ve given me throughout my life. I’m looking forward to re-reading all of your books soon, and making more of those hours for both of us.

gp


friday’s 5 minutes

Technically, it’s Saturday…but since I get off work at 12:30am, and often don’t have time before then…I’m counting this as Friday’s. 🙂

How bored would we be without the internet? How awful would life be without the opportunity to communicate with someone thousands of miles away virtually immediately? Could this society go back to that if we had to? I don’t know. I’m pretty sure someone like me would be okay mostly; I’d return to my deep roots of libraries, books, and writing with pens. Of course, I would also no longer have a job…but that’s kind of beside the point right now. I would love a lot of things about only having books and telephones again, and needing to write letters instead of emails and such. Of course, with the state of my hands and wrists, I’d need to actually dictate those letters, but that’s okay. I’ll be employing someone else who will need a real job for lack of internets. This kind of sounds like a rant, but it really started out as a “what if”. I think I like the “what if” stuff, sort of. Not the kind of “if only my life were like THIS” what if, but the actual wondering “what if”. After all, most story premises kind of go along with the whole, “What if I had a character who knew…and who could…and drank vodka gimlets all the time?” Well, not exactly. But I think you get the point. 🙂

gp