The first book that I found of his was Small Gods. It was published in 1992, and I remember getting it, reading it as quickly as I could, reading it again, and then immediately going to the library to check out all of his other books.
One of the best gifts I was ever given was a box full of 30 Terry Pratchett books. Eric looked through my bookshelf and bought me all of the ones that I didn’t have. It was amazing. I just held them close to me and cried and grinned like an idiot.
One of the first books that the kids read to me was “Where’s My Cow?”. They did all of the noises (BUGGERIT! MILLENNIUM HAND AND SHRIMP!” These are catch phrases and inside jokes in our house.
His writing talked about us, but from a distance. I always tell clients that it’s hard to see the pattern when you’re in it. Terry Pratchett took shots at society and called us on our bullshit. He did it in a funny, tender, and beautifully satirical voice.
And smart. My god, this man was smart. Smart with ideas, (second and third thoughts) and smart with language. He used the most amazing words to create the most amazing ideas.
I never got to meet him. I don’t know any of his people. I’m just a fan. And I’ll stop crying in a while, and start re-reading the old friends that he created for us.
I am going to miss him so very much.