Let Down
I love to read. Specifically, for fiction, I love to read epic fantasy. You know, dress up the Lord of the Rings in some other clothes, change the ring with, say "the Sword of Truth" or Frodo with the "Dragon Reborn" and I'm there.
I finished the final book in the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind a few weeks ago. Not a bad ending, but not great, either. Still, if you can get past the (way too) graphic depictions of torture in a couple books, they're a good read.
Around the first of the year I got news that Robert Jordan, author of The Wheel of Time series (of which 11 books of the planned 12 book series had been published) died. One book left. Sigh... Yeah, he knew his time was near. Yeah, he left copious notes and dictated all kinds of stuff to people for the final book before he died... Still, it's gonna take forever.
About the same time, I heard that my absolute favorite author of fiction (it's non-epic fantasy - rather, it's satire fantasy) Terry Pratchett has Alzheimer's. He's only 59, for crying out loud. Here's a link to The Guardian's notice on Terry's condition. You'd think I'd be happy that he's written 36 books in the series (Discworld)...
This week at first our oldest member died. She was 108 years old. She was a pretty amazing lady. This week a member's father died. This week a 16 year old from the congregation is facing tests to see if he has cancer. This week a 20 month old is in the hospital being treated for leukemia. This week we have a memorial service for another lady who died earlier in the year. This week...
I don't know why my head is linking all that together.
It's all life stuff. You know, success, not quite making it to the end, seeing the end unravel out of your control. It's all life stuff. Making it to 108, losing your father when you're only in your 30s. Two mothers worried about losing their sons. A family celebrating a mother's life.
Ramblings for a Thursday morning, maybe.
I guess I'm thinking about mortality and accomplishments and...
So many people work and struggle and strive to make their mark here. Write a book, get an award, save a life, something... I wonder if Robert Jordan's life is any less complete because he never got to write that twelfth book. I wonder if he's in the presence of God going, "Really, just let me tweak that last scene a little..." (By the way, he was a lifelong Episcopal).
I finished the final book in the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind a few weeks ago. Not a bad ending, but not great, either. Still, if you can get past the (way too) graphic depictions of torture in a couple books, they're a good read.
Around the first of the year I got news that Robert Jordan, author of The Wheel of Time series (of which 11 books of the planned 12 book series had been published) died. One book left. Sigh... Yeah, he knew his time was near. Yeah, he left copious notes and dictated all kinds of stuff to people for the final book before he died... Still, it's gonna take forever.
About the same time, I heard that my absolute favorite author of fiction (it's non-epic fantasy - rather, it's satire fantasy) Terry Pratchett has Alzheimer's. He's only 59, for crying out loud. Here's a link to The Guardian's notice on Terry's condition. You'd think I'd be happy that he's written 36 books in the series (Discworld)...
This week at first our oldest member died. She was 108 years old. She was a pretty amazing lady. This week a member's father died. This week a 16 year old from the congregation is facing tests to see if he has cancer. This week a 20 month old is in the hospital being treated for leukemia. This week we have a memorial service for another lady who died earlier in the year. This week...
I don't know why my head is linking all that together.
It's all life stuff. You know, success, not quite making it to the end, seeing the end unravel out of your control. It's all life stuff. Making it to 108, losing your father when you're only in your 30s. Two mothers worried about losing their sons. A family celebrating a mother's life.
Ramblings for a Thursday morning, maybe.
I guess I'm thinking about mortality and accomplishments and...
So many people work and struggle and strive to make their mark here. Write a book, get an award, save a life, something... I wonder if Robert Jordan's life is any less complete because he never got to write that twelfth book. I wonder if he's in the presence of God going, "Really, just let me tweak that last scene a little..." (By the way, he was a lifelong Episcopal).
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