Death meets Terry Pratchett

When I was young, before your World Wide Webs and your Twitters, we used to have ‘newsgroups’—kind of Internet discussion forums. They were named like domain names, with dots: rec.arts.cycling, say, or

I subscribed to the Muppets one, and a few others, including and Douglas Adams (dns) used to pop in and say hello on his one occasionally (which was always promptly followed by a raft of newbies accusing the great man of being an imposter).

Terry Pratchett (pterry) was almost a permanent fixture of his. Amongst the silly chat, there were some in-jokes which occasionally made it into his books. He clearly loved his fans, and they loved him. You can’t fake that: he was generous of spirit. His books are influential; his books are imbued with a love of humanity reflecting his own, and his influence spread far beyond his books.

Plus, given the amount of good press he gave to Death, you’ve got to imagine that Death will be kind to him.


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