Post by Craig Herbertson on May 30, 2013 18:51:31 GMT
Jack Vance died a few days ago. He had retired from writing.
Looking at my shelves I see almost all of his books, dogeared, covers falling off from endless rereading. I rarely say this about anyone, never mind a writer, but Vance was unique and inimitable as was shown when fans and authors, many of them very good authors, tried to write a book of stories set in his world. Possibly the worst book I have ever read, not because the writing was poor, but because each in their own way almost entirely failed to capture anything of the magic that Vance was capable of producing and in failing demonstrated that he was unique. I shall raise a glass to his memory and thank fortune that he lived and I can languish in his alternative realities by simply picking up a book from my shelf.