May. 13th, 2010

qos: (Tiger and Foot)
Tuesday night, Hob and Wolfling and I went to see Guy Gavriel Kay, who was being interviewed by super-librarian Nancy Pearl at a local library. Kay has been one of my favorite authors for years, and remains one of the very few whose books I pre-order and buy in hardback. The Lions of Al-Rassan is one of my top two or three favorite books, and his Fionavar Trilogy, the "Sarantium Mosaic" duology, and Song for Arbonne are second-tier favorites.

I was eager to see Kay in person, but also a bit cautious, afraid of being disappointed. As it turned out, however, he was charming and interesting, and Pearl was a very good interviewer. One of my favorite bits of information was finding out that he had a law degree, because it puts a fun spin on the fact that two of the leading characters in the Fionavar books are law students.

When it came time for the signing, I was shameless in rushing ahead of Hob and Wolfling to get in line. Although I had already purchased and read Kay's newest book, I had brought with me my hardback copy of The Lions of Al-Rassan (which Hob himself had given me for my birthday a year or two ago to replace my battered paperbacks).

As I stood in line I fretted a bit about what I would say when it was my turn. What could I possibly say to GGK that he hadn't heard hundreds of times before?

Unlike many other authors, whose book-signings are machine-like with only the briefest interaction between author and reader, Kay took his time with each person, really focusing on what they said and interacting with them. When it was my turn, I told him that I had already read and liked "Under Heaven" but Lions was one of my all-time favorite books, that of all the thousands I have read it was my "desert island book."

It's a fairly common phrase, but he latched onto it with surprising energy, telling me that no one had ever said that before, and that he was especially taken with it in this case because of the novel's first line: Always remember that they come from the desert.* I said it with him as he spoke it.

After that I thanked him for all his books and for how much they meant to me. He put his hand over his heart and thanked me by name.

It was only later, after Hob had gotten his own autograph and we were out in the parking lot that I realized I was zinging with energy, and a while after that to fully absorb that I had said something unique and meaningful to Kay, and that I had been able to look into his eyes and thank him for the great gift of his stories, which in itself was a privilege I never thought to have.

For those who want to know more about Kay and his books )




* For the purists, that's the first sentence of Part 1, not the Prologue. But if the author says it's the first line, I'm not going to argue!

Angry

May. 13th, 2010 09:45 pm
qos: (The Show Must Go On)
Of all the stages of grief, the one I am least familiar with is anger.

I'm feeling it tonight.

I'm angry at him.

I'm angry at him for leaving me.
Angry at him for not somehow managing to overcome a mortal wound and triumph for us to live happily ever after together.

True love conquers all, right?

I know he would have died for me.
But he wasn't able to save his own life and live for me.

I'm angry that this evening I stood at my window and looked out on the beautiful spring evening and he wasn't there beside me in the flesh to savor it with me. Angry that this place is not our home.

I'm angry at him for not winning that last fight, after he'd been victorious over so much else.

I'm angry at him for not managing to overcome all the limitations of both our states -- and my own damned lack of Talent -- and make it possible for me to see him vividly.

I'm angry that I'm alone, when I should be living joyously with the love of my life.



I'm angry because there's not a damn fucking thing I can do to bring him back, because I've wanted so little in this life and the thing I wanted most of all was wrenched away from me, and there wasn't anything I could do to make a difference. I could only hold him as he died.



I'm angry because he's right here beside me, aching for me, for my pain, for our separation, and I can feel him just enough to know it, but not enough to savor him fully.
Page generated Aug. 10th, 2025 04:16 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios