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R.I.P. Robert Jordan.
Sep. 18th, 2007 03:02 pmA while ago I read on Amazon that Robert Jordan was ill, checking for news on that I found Dragonmount, the site where he kept is blog. I never dared to comment there, but I bookmarked it and read it faithfully, hoping against hope that his fight with the dredful illness that struck him would end in victory.
Yesterday I read the most recent post on his blog, written by a close relative: Robert Jordan died in the early afternoon of September the 16th.
Some would say that his books were too long and in need of editing, some would say that the first one in some points was close to the Lord of the Rings, some would say that other authors treated a similar matter in a 'more adult manner' whatever that means.
I say that I still remember the day I bought that first book that drew me into his world. I have read The Wheel of Time time and again,and when I did, and do, I wished the book would never end because there was always something more I wanted to know. His books made me laugh, cry, shiver with fear and expectation, they made me talk with the characters, love them, hate them, make up my own stories... They made me think, about writing, yes, and fantasy, but most about such things as good and evil, destiny and free will,responsibility, choosing the lesser evil and battles that need to be fought and things worth giving one's life for.
May you rest in peace in the light of the Lord, friend I never knew.
A sheated sword
a closed book
the last note lingers.
Yesterday I read the most recent post on his blog, written by a close relative: Robert Jordan died in the early afternoon of September the 16th.
Some would say that his books were too long and in need of editing, some would say that the first one in some points was close to the Lord of the Rings, some would say that other authors treated a similar matter in a 'more adult manner' whatever that means.
I say that I still remember the day I bought that first book that drew me into his world. I have read The Wheel of Time time and again,and when I did, and do, I wished the book would never end because there was always something more I wanted to know. His books made me laugh, cry, shiver with fear and expectation, they made me talk with the characters, love them, hate them, make up my own stories... They made me think, about writing, yes, and fantasy, but most about such things as good and evil, destiny and free will,responsibility, choosing the lesser evil and battles that need to be fought and things worth giving one's life for.
May you rest in peace in the light of the Lord, friend I never knew.
A sheated sword
a closed book
the last note lingers.
