My first encounter with Terry Pratchett was The Colour of Magic, as read on BBC Radio 4's Woman's Hour. I was a young journalist and I reached out to his publisher for an interview, and thus became the first journalist to interview Terry Pratchett, in Bertorelli's Italian restaurant, in Gower Street. (We remembered it as a Chinese Restaurant in Goodge Street, demonstrating either the fallibility of memory or our fondness for Chinese food.) We became friends.
I was lucky enough to read Terry's books as he wrote them, to become one of his beta readers, and then to collaborate with him. Terry had a brilliant eye for the places where reality and narrative tradition intersect: he had a science fiction writer's mind, let loose on a fantasy world, and he loved to explain and show how things came to be. The last time we saw each other he told me I had to read a book about feeding Nelson's navy – and I still wonder, had he lived, about the Discworld novel he would have written, about ships, and naval battles and all, and the lessons he would have taught us. Because at his best, Terry was a teacher. The kind who makes you laugh while simultaneously realising that everything you have taken for granted so far is utterly wrong. I miss him.
J. K. Rowling and Neil Gaiman are such a funny contrast to me, like
Rowling: Oh, and by the way, I put gay characters in my books.
People: Is there anything... showing that?
Rowling: No. Also trans women don't deserve respect
People: wtf
Gaiman: Here are some immortals that transcend all human concepts of gender and attraction who use a variety of pronouns, and also some clearly canon human queers.
People: Are the immortals queer?
Gaiman: That is an entirely valid way to view them.
Other people: Ugh, pushing a modern woke agenda. It used to be-
Gaiman: Fuck you
Sir Terry Pratchett: on writing Good Omens with Neil Gaiman
I love the whole interview but this little snippet most of all:
Terry: “You can usually bet, and I’m sure Neil Gaiman would say the same thing, that, uh, if I go into a bookstore to do a signing and someone presents me with three books, the chances are that one of them is going to be a very battered copy of Good Omens; and it will smell as if it’s been dropped in parsnip soup or something in and it’s gone fluffy and crinkly around the edges and they’ll admit that it’s the fourth copy they’ve bought”.
what baffles me is that crowley is actually good for aziraphale. not in the sense that the good actions he does are done for aziraphale, but in the sense that crowley teaches aziraphale to be good to himself
in s2ep4 when aziraphale is looking for a magic trick to do, he first says that he can't go to the magic shop because he's not a professional conjuror. crowley disagrees, convincing him that he's a professional as he is "about to perform on the West End Stage"
afterwards when the shopkeeper calls aziraphale a "talented amateur", it's aziraphale himself who makes a point in proving that he's no such thing as he's "booked to appear in the West End"
and then when they're backstage talking to furfur aziraphale clearly calls himself a "working professional magician". over a few hours, crowley makes aziraphale confident in his own identity
not only does crowley love aziraphale (in whatever way he expresses it) but he literally makes him better. crowley, who believes he is incapable of doing good, manages to make an actual angel, better
From the Neil Gaiman: Dream Dangerously 🥺❤ (you can watch it here in US or with US vpn :) <3) (or just this bit on youtube here :))
Neil Gaiman: I miss him most when I get stuck. You know, I'll just be
working on something and I'll go, "Oh, this isn't quite it," and all I want to do is just call Terry, tell him what's going on and have him say, "Ah, grasshopper, the answer is there in the question." And I'd go, "Oh, for fuck's sake, Terry, just tell me."