Robert Jordan
I remember sitting in my bedroom with Felicia on one of our down days. The world we lived in wasn't right. It wasn't fair. I don't remember the cause, parental problems or homework or any of those other little things that always seem so important at the time. We wished for an escape from reality. A portal. A gate to another world. The possibility of it was enough to blow the clouds away. We talked about it for ages. Where we'd go. Who we'd meet. What we'd do. Of course the top of our list of destinations was the world of the Dragon Reborn.
It may seem silly now. The poorly caged grown-up in my brain screams that the very idea is impractical, fantastical, irrational, and should be locked away in the cupboards of childhood to gather dust along with the monster under my bed (which turned out to be no more than a sadly neglected cheese sandwich, later nicknamed Tim). But, fortunately for the world, the truly fantastic thing is that our dream, our impractical, irrational musing, is a reality.
There are people, amazing people in this world who have the ability to open those gateways. These people work not with magic, but with ink and paper and words. Opening the pages of a book may not seem as grand as rending the pattern with saidin, but it is just as effective.
Then again, there is a kind of magic in the telling of a story, in the weaving of an adventure so spectacular it reaches beyond the the confines of its pages. Perhaps those with the ability to capture a reader's mind and set it free in another world are the closest things to sorcerers we have.
Mr Jordan, the world and characters you created within the Wheel of Time are brilliant. Your stories amaze even the boring grown-up me. Thanks for the hugs in Half Moon Bay, and I'm sorry we poked you that one time in San Diego. This world has lost one of it's greatest magicians. You are truly missed.
It may seem silly now. The poorly caged grown-up in my brain screams that the very idea is impractical, fantastical, irrational, and should be locked away in the cupboards of childhood to gather dust along with the monster under my bed (which turned out to be no more than a sadly neglected cheese sandwich, later nicknamed Tim). But, fortunately for the world, the truly fantastic thing is that our dream, our impractical, irrational musing, is a reality.
There are people, amazing people in this world who have the ability to open those gateways. These people work not with magic, but with ink and paper and words. Opening the pages of a book may not seem as grand as rending the pattern with saidin, but it is just as effective.
Then again, there is a kind of magic in the telling of a story, in the weaving of an adventure so spectacular it reaches beyond the the confines of its pages. Perhaps those with the ability to capture a reader's mind and set it free in another world are the closest things to sorcerers we have.
Mr Jordan, the world and characters you created within the Wheel of Time are brilliant. Your stories amaze even the boring grown-up me. Thanks for the hugs in Half Moon Bay, and I'm sorry we poked you that one time in San Diego. This world has lost one of it's greatest magicians. You are truly missed.