All of Discworld mourns today at the news that Terry Pratchett has had his final meeting with Death.
I love the Discworld novels far more than any other fantasy works I’ve read (I generally prefer my fiction with a little science). They are satire at its very best – laugh out loud funny wrapped around biting political and social insights.
It’s a close run for my favorite between Going Postal and Making Money, but the latter wins for its profound observations on that most ethereal substance – money – that we all seem to spend so much time pursuing.
Wherever Sir Terry is now, he can take comfort from knowing it’s turtles all the way down.