(no subject)

[batyatoon]

No. Oh, no.

John M. Ford has died.


I just. I never met him, but ... this is the man who wrote 110 Stories. This is the man whose poetry taught me how to write a sestina.


Dammit.

Comments

[emmlet.livejournal.com]

I found that out this morning, reading Making Light as I do most mornings. I never met him either, but I've been reading that blog for ages (it even brought me to Milliways) and he was one of my favorite commenters. Brilliantly witty and creative and such a great writer.

It's a sad day for the world to lose someone like that.

[roman-mclaze.livejournal.com]

The only thing of his I've ever read is How Much For Just the Planet?, which was an incredibly fun book. I didn't even know he was a poet.

[rymenhild.livejournal.com]

I haven't read much of Ford's work beyond Making Light, but I found one of his stories in an Asimov's I picked up at a library used book sale this summer. It was a charming piece about two very intelligent people living out on an asteroid (I think? Maybe it was Pluto). Tired of being underestimated and bored, the two of them got together and built a steam railroad around the planet(oid?), just because they could. I read it several times in a row, and every time the premise and the characters just made me happy.

Baruch dayan emet.