If you don’t turn your life into a story, you just become a part of someone else’s story.

Terry Pratchett made me want to be a writer, and now he’s gone. Terry Pratchett wrote humans into his stories, thoughtfully and truthfully, in the way only someone who realizes the innate, raw honesty of the fantasy genre could, and now he’s gone. He loved humans, and taught me to love humans and to really look at a human and see a human’s humanity, and now he’s gone. It’s just clumsy. Life is just clumsy.