"'Dead?' said Sophie. She had a silly impulse to add, But she was alive an hour ago! And she stopped herself, because death is like that: people are alive until they die." -Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle
The above quote just keeps on being relevant. And it's sadly more than suited for this particular post.
I'm up writing a paper for my American Adolescence class. It's supposed to be 6-7 pages long and I'm only starting on page 4. Woo-hoo. I've just had coffee for the first time in months. Insomniacs don't generally need coffee. But tonight I did. So now I can be awake to fully process the horror of the discovery that Diana Wynne Jones passed away on March 26, 2011 and I only just found out.
She was my favorite fantasy author - responsible for the brilliance that is Howl's Moving Castle and Dark Lord of Derkholm, not to mention so many other wonderful books. She was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2009. Knowing this I've actually been checking her wiki page and searching the news every so often to see how she's been doing. I swear I just wiki-d her a few weeks ago and she hadn't passed away yet. It must have been just days before she did.
So of course now, in the midst of essay-writing procrastination, I discover that she died two weeks ago. Ugh. I'm sad. And I feel like a bad fan for only finding out now. Sigh. Irrational? Maybe...
Now there's nothing literary that I'm all excited about looking forward to. (Well, it'd be really awesome if they published all of the work J.D. Salinger'd been hoarding, but who knows when that's going to happen.) I don't want her to be dead. Yeah, mature thought, I know. I don't care. This year is stupid. (Lesson: Nazifa gets less and less sophisticated as the night hours pass by. Bodes well for my essay.) So many people have passed away. I didn't post about it in light of what happened with Erica Teevens, but Brian Jacques died on February 5th. So I guess 2011 is the Year of Beloved-Childhood-Authors-Biting-the-Dust. Or maybe it's just the Year of Beloved-People-Biting-the-Dust. Who knows.
Back to essay writing. I am so not in the mood for this.
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