More trouble sleeping…

More trouble sleeping last night, bah. I was so exhausted that I didn't make it to my guitar lesson, but I did draft Act III of the play, so the day wasn't completely wasted.

I've had a slow morning of e-mail and journals -- reading a lot of the tributes to John M. Ford, which are just heart-wrenching. He clearly touched a tremendous number of lives, both in his person and in his writing. The accountings remind me of a bit from a Star Trek novel -- not one of his, but I think he would have approved the sentiment. It's in reference to a young pilot who has just died:

"He was all fire, that one; they burn bright, and burn out. He knew what he did, and he did well. Leave him his brightness."

-- Diane Duane and Peter Morwood, The Romulan Way

I didn't know Ford personally at all -- I don't think we ever met. But every time I encountered his work, I was similarly impressed and intimidated. Often I wasn't sure I was smart enough to follow exactly what he was doing; sometimes I wondered why I bothered trying to write at all, given that I'd never have his casual brilliance. Which, of course, is obviously not the way he would have wanted me to think. I suspect the best I can do to honor his memory is put aside my anxieties and try to write something good, and honest, and true.

So, saddened, back to work.

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