I read the news last night just before I went to bed. I immediately felt a part of what constructed my joy had gone away. I actually felt sad, and I am still sad by the news. It's strange to feel some kind of connection with someone whom I've never met and whom didn't even know that I exist in this world, connected through enjoying his works over the years.
I have fallen in love with Sam Vimes when I first read one of the Discworld books, and then found out that Pratchett had written a book with another favourite author, Neil Gaiman, in Good Omens. I remember I was in Singapore at that time so many years ago, trying to find some books to take back home to Indonesia. I'm glad that I found Good Omens. And I'm glad that my copy got borrowed by some friends, infecting them with both Pratchett and Gaiman.
I guess why I decided to write about this is because Pratchett's books have brought so much fun and delight in my life. His hilarious footnotes and characters (my second favourite character is Death) have never failed to amuse me. I turned to his books during the really dark period of my life and they had helped me. Maybe that's why I feel I have lost something although I don't know him personally. Maybe that's what every Pratchett's fan is feeling at the moment.
One good thing is that his work is still here. Some I have in my book case. Some I'm sure I will get in the near future. And this is something that I need to be grateful for. Thank you, Terry Pratchett. Rest in peace.