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Archive for the ‘sadness’ Category

Russell Hoban

Russell Hoban, ‘Frances’ Author, Dies at 86

I loved the Frances books when I was younger–I still love them today, in fact. Frances is a kindred spirit; I identified wholeheartedly with her feelings about food and bed and younger siblings. I wasn’t as good at making up songs for every situation, but I appreciated her talent.

I had no idea that Russell Hoban had a second authorial career publishing books for adults. Several of them look quite interesting, most especially Riddley Walker. I will have to track it down after the holidays.

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Anne McCaffrey

I’ve only read a few Anne McCaffrey books, but I really love the Harper Hall trilogy. So it was very sad to hear that she has died.

Anne McCaffrey, 1926-2011

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L.K. Madigan

L.K. Madigan died last week.

I only had a few interactions with Lisa on Twitter and on my blog, but she was a truly gracious person, and very willing to engage with her fans. Speaking purely as a fan, I really appreciate that–not all authors are willing (or able) to do so. I am sorry I did not have a chance to get to know her better.

I’m very sorry for her family’s loss, and I’m also very selfishly sorry there won’t be any more books.

ETA 03/02/2011: Friends, admirers remember generosity of Lisa Wolfson, who wrote as L.K. Madigan

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The reason for this picture is here. (Via Liz B.)

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

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Diana Wyyne Jones (who is only my favoritest author EVER, and I had no idea she was so ill, and I feel like a jerk for not knowing) is apparently quite sick, and in need of cheering up. So if you would like to brighten her day, drop her a line at:

Diana Wynne Jones
c/o Greenwillow Books
10 E. 53rd St.
New York, NY 10022

Via Bookshelves of Doom

ETA: corrected address

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Henry V

This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian:’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

(4, iii)

Henry V’s Greatest Victory Is Besieged by Academia

ETA:

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RIP

RIP Orange.

You had a good life, even if you were too timid to believe it. I will miss seeing how excited you got each morning when I fed you; I won’t miss cleaning your tank. Enjoy the Great Fishbowl in the Sky.

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