Epilogue

I came to the end of The Shepherd's Crown today, marking the end of my re-reading/mostly just reading of the Discworld novels that began back in the first winter of COVID, 2020.

Sir Terry has been dead almost a decade now, but with him being one of my writing inspirations since I was thirteen years old, I did feel fresh sadness as the book came to an end. And also when it started. The story itself deals a lot with death. And the writing, technically not even complete due to the ravages of Alzheimer's, and a bit under-cooked, was also a depressing reminder of mortality and the tragedy of dying with unfinished stories.

I can't think of any heroes that I have, but Terry Pratchett's writing was close. I started on his biography right after so that I can separate man from art, as I suspect all humans are not worthy of hero status. But stories might be. The narrative could be my hero. A hint of comedy, a clever twist, a satisfying conclusion, an endless string of sequels. Royalties. The fresh smell of paperbacks.

Anyway, no conclusion about or remedy for mortality in this article. I just thought it was worth trying to write 400 words.