An Open Letter to Terry Prachett

Dear Mr. Prachett,

Let me start by saying I'm sorry. Or rather, let me start by saying I'm sorry to myself. I was one of some 150 people at a speaking/signing you held on Saturday September 24th, in the year of "our" Lord 2005. It is doubtful you remember me. The afternoon started with you addressing the crowd and taking questions (everything from "How do you pronounce Angua?" to "What does a Hippo sound and like?" and even "What, exactly, is a figgin'?"). I, of course, did not ask any questions because something like "What is your exact philosophy on the nature of time and multiple dimensions in relation to "Nightwatch" and "thief of Time" seemed a little inappropriate for the occasion.

After the interactive portion of the event was over all those in attendance lined up so that we could secure your precious autograph on our coveted copies of your various works. Being under the assumption you would only be signing your newest book I did not, in fact, bring any of the number of other things I would have given my left index finger to have you sign (but since I still have said finger, perhaps that was for the best). As was already mentioned, roughly 150 were there to wait in line and I was lucky number 128.

It was not until around 5:00 (three hours after you were first introduced to us) that I (with my supportive wife in tow) finally made our way up to you. It was at just about this point that my tongue stopped functioning. Or possibly it was momentarily transported to some dark dungeon dimension because I don't even remember feeling it waggling around inside my mouth. I am fairly certain I was able to mumble a "hello" or some odd equivalent. And while I don't remember speaking my name, I certainly must have because the correct name is indeed inside the two books you signed for me.

And so, roughly 15 seconds later my brush with greatness was at an end. My wife wondered why in the world I didn't actually speak to you, as you obviously had no problem conversing with others who sought your signature. All I can say is that the experience was so surreal that even now, two days later, I have a problem remembering the specifics.

And in all honesty, how do you tell someone whom you've idolized for a number of years that he is the reason you wanted to become a writer? Sure, it sounds nice to think it, or even write it down, but too actually say it sounds a bit...well...stupid.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, Mr. Pratchett, that I wasn't being rude. And if I ever get the chance again I will certainly try to ask a squeaky voiced question or two. Or at least, I'll try to try.

Thanks for everything,
the cheese

p.s. Seeing as how I will be at a similar event this Saturday for Neil Gaiman, I have decided to write out some questions/witty banter ahead of time...

Self torture

After one week, the cheese' resolve finally broke and today he purchased Thud!. Of course, today also marked the release of Anansi Boys so time will tell how long before the cheese buys that. Normally, none of this would matter, except that the cheese has to read Sister Carrie by next Monday, and still has three critical essays to read before tonight, not to mention the fact that he must finish Dracula by next week (though, since he has already read this once, he will likely skim it as, if memory serves, it's a slow ass book).

Damn grad. school is certainly getting in the way of the cheese' normal reading habits!

Grad school MADNESS!!!!!!

Having to devote his entire weekend to catching up on the correspondence between Vicomte de Valmont and Marquise de Merteuil the cheese, unfortunately, missed the dungeon crawling goodness of WHQ that ensued this past Saturday.

And so the question is...how fared the witchhunter?

Infrequent updates

As much as the cheese complained about his last job (wasting away in front of a computer for a large multi-national corporation), it did afford him ample opportunity to post blogs/use company time doing non-company related things on the internet. Being back at the bookmines affords no such luxury.

So, a brief recap of the last two or so months...

Move-check
Married-check
Death in wife's family-sadly check
Started Grad school-excellent

Of course, with the last point, the homework and massive amounts of reading have also begun. If only the cheese had been a good student at some in his life he wouldn't get a panic attack when thoughts of the upcoming semester drift across his mind.