The High One turned to flame in his hands, and then into a memory

[sovay]

Patricia A. McKillip has died. I read her so early, I can't remember the first time. Her influence on my writing and on some of my thought is incalculable. We met twice at different conventions. I shared readings with her husband. She wrote the sea like I could breathe it. I was re-reading one of my favorites of her mid-career novels idly last week, hoping that whatever she wrote next would be something I liked. At the moment the stones are still falling out of the sky.

Comments

[nineweaving]

Oh no. The sweetest, shyest visionary I have ever met. She had worlds yet to write.

Nine

[sovay]

Oh no. The sweetest, shyest visionary I have ever met. She had worlds yet to write.

I didn't love all of them, but the ones I did love, I can't imagine being without.

*hugs*