John M. Ford
|John M. Ford died today.|
When I was a little boy, I wanted to conquer the world. Like most children's extravagant dreams, this did not come true.
When I was a hormonally charged idiot, (read: teenager) I wanted to be a Marine. This dream did come true, quite often to my dismay.
Some time during my journey through SF fandom, I realized I wanted to be John M. Ford.
I want to write some of the greatest books that genre fiction has ever seen. I want every conversation I am a part of to help people to grow and laugh and wonder. I want to go to lots of conventions and be able to write them off come tax time. I want to leave the world a better place, as sappy as that may sound.
I want to be John M. Ford.
I was able to meet Mr. Ford only twice, though I've journeyed through his stories dozens of times. We spoke for just a few minutes on the first meeting, but he remembered my name and offered a cheerful greeting on our second encounter. I was in awe of his talent and his mind. Though I was never more than an acquaintance, his books are dear friends to me, and today I mourn.
I encourage you all to go have one Last Hot Time with Mike Ford. You'll be better for it.