We just lost one of the brightest lights of modern English literature.
I owe a lot to Terry Pratchett - my family, for starters - and I'll admit to shedding a few tears this morning. My world is a poorer place without him in it.
But in all honesty, I think we lost that Terry Pratchett some years ago, when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. His recent output has been - lesser.
So I'm glad, for his sake, that (from all reports) he was able to die very much as he himself wished. And for my sake, that his canon is now complete, and will not be further diluted with more works that are frankly unworthy of the author he once was.
Once upon a time I would have written much, much more here, about how I knew the man and what he meant to me personally. But I'm still more than a little burned out by grief over a much more personal loss, so that fuller obituary - will now be available only via L-space, to those who know how to navigate it. Here and now, I'll just say:
Goodbye, Sir Pterry. And thank you.