I Trotted Not the Trail You Trod, Yet Still Bid Thee Farewell: An Inadequate Tribute to Sir Terry Pratchett.

by Super Trampoline

Bookworms All the Way Down

Twilight Sparkle was not a particularly outgoing pony. She did not relish public speaking. Rather, she approached it from a creative perspective, focusing on crafting objectively well-written speeches replete with Logos, Pathos, and Ethos. When she had to, that is. She'd much rather just stay inside and study, organize, solve friendship problems, etc.

Unfortunately for her, this was not a speech she could get out of, being the unofficial "Princess of Books". She was expected, neigh, required to placate the mournful masses on this somber day. And so, as Twilight nervously looked out over crowds of bookworms much like herself stuffed into the courtyard of the mountainside castle she had chain-teleported into only that morning, she steeled herself, hoping that for them her coming words were not empty lip service but rather soothing salve.

On that thought, Twilight took a deep breath and began.

In Sir Penatia Trotsworth's land of Roundswald, Telegraph wires crisscross their way across entire continents and even oceans, uniting the nations in nearly instantaneous communication. Here in Equestria, such technology is in most infantile stages, and perhaps may never be feasible. We must make do with courier phoenixes and dragonfire relays. Yet today such methods of communication felt entirely too fast, for they brought with them disheartening news from Eagleland.

As you probably know by now, Sir Trotsworth left us this morning for greener pastures. I am glad to report he passed peacefully. He was 66. He is at last free from his long struggle with IMDS[1], and for that I suppose we are thankful.

I, being a prominent figure in the literary scene--though I insist I am a Renaissance Mare who happens to be a former librarian and not the other way around--was asked by my colleague and fellow ruler, Princess Celestia, to share my thoughts on the matter. Share I shall.

I start with a confession: I have not read any of Penatia Trotsworth's work. One would think that would make me a poor candidate to deliver an impromptu eulogy, and I would agree. But nonetheless I was asked to speak here, and I believe I can yet impart some comfort and wisdom.

I repeat: I have not read any of Penatia Trotsworth's work. This is not an intentional omission. Rather as some of you know, I rarely read fiction. I am a scientific mare, and I find myself drawn to technical manuals and history tomes more than to the fiction shelf. Before I considered this to be a forgettable byproduct of my focus of pursuits. Now I consider it a mistake.

For I understand clearly now what a towering giant this stallion was. I have heard and seen nothing more than a floodwater of condolences and eulogies, bawled out in the corner café, penned in to the afternoon edition of the Canterlot Guardian and Foal Free Press--for his works I learn are popular with foals too--and stapled to the many public messaging boards spread throughout this fair city. For me he was a future interest, but for many, he was an exciting presence.

Trotsworth's prose, I am told and have experienced second hoof, is a beautiful thing. It is delightful and playful, yet never childish. It eggs you on, always daring you to devour one more line, sentence, page, chapter, one more book! It is equal parts rich and funny: one moment one might crack up at some absurd metaphor or situational comedy, yet the next be struck by profound wisdom. His words are on all levels of engagement entertaining.

Trotsworth's characters are equally engrossing. They are complex creatures he built up and sculpted over many passages and books, never black and white cutouts, but rather fully realized mares, stallions, and assorted creatures with hopes and dreams of their own. Within the pages of his novels, these visions of his mind jump into ours.

He wrote profusely on many a topic, familiar yet at once alien. His literary playground, Roundswald, was always infused with strange magic: electric carts, nuclear-fusion stars, and sleek metal flying machines. It was a world entirely foreign to ours. And yet, it never felt quite too far away. He wrote of strange magic, yet among that magic he wrote of ponies like you and me. In between the differential machines and artificial echolocating, were tales, anecdotes, and above all, questions about what it means to be equine. He was funny, no doubt. But that humor was balanced and informed by a deep longing for understanding. Understanding our place on the land, in the world, and in the heavens. Upon this fantastic sphere he built, he explored our own strange magic.

Yet his magic did not solely touch readers. He also inspired a generation of writers. Many of my older author acquaintances confess to growing up on his works. From several mares and stallions I have heard touching tales of how he inspired them. Tales of a one-bit paperback pulled from the local bookstore two dozen years ago, a single book that inspired a lifetime of literary excellence. I myself have seen the touch of his quill in the many parodies and homages to his style I have inadvertently exposed myself to. I am glad at least for these vicarious experiences.

For a generation of ponies, Trotsworth was the contemporary speculative fiction writer. But for me and my younger ilk, he will be a sacred legend, experienced in memorium.

Long I told myself, "I really ought to start upon this series; it seems excellent." It appears at last I have found the impetus, sad as it may be. I only wish I had thought to follow his hoofprints sooner. But I am glad for those who did.

Penatia, I trotted not the trail you trod, yet still bid thee farewell. Heavenlyspeed, Sir, as you gallop amongst the stars. Thank you, and goodbye.

Twilight stepped away from the podium as stomping and cheers rose up from below. She smiled earnestly and breathed easier. She had done it. It had gone alright. Better than she expected, even. Not bad for three-and-a-half hours, a trip to the library, and a forget-me-not spell. And a Dry-Your-Eyes extract. But nopony needed to know that. Yet even as she congratulated herself, a new objective shaped itself within her mind: I know how I shall be occupying my free time henceforth until the fune--

Her thoughts were sliced by a lumbering roar that fashioned itself into a voice: Well done, my little pony. You knew not of him the way I know him now, yet you still spoke with clarity and truth. He would be honored, I'm sure.

Twilight whipped her head around, only to catch a flash of deep blue eyes and a bony, knowing smile.

Author's Note:

[1]: Internal Magic Depletion Syndrome

Comments

[Super Trampoline]

5731561 Is this obituary tourism? Maybe. Do I feel better having written it? Definitely. People did the same thing after Robin Williams died. That death didn't resonate as strongly with me as it did with many, since I don't watch a lot of movies. But Terry? He was one of my literary idols.

[FamousLastWords]

5731445 Hmm, I'll upvote without reading, then. The power shall be balanced.

[Krazyfan1]

R.I.P Terry....

[BlueYoshi]

5731445
5731487

Hey, who downvoted you guys? I'm gonna give you guys upvotes to fix this.

[FamousLastWords]

5731517 Probably someone who didn't like my comment. I stopped caring about downvotes a long time ago, but I do appreciate your balance of the force.

[CaptainPipsqueak]

"Hey look; someone famous croaked! I know! I'll write a quick and dirty and wait for the upvotes for 'the feels'!"

You vulture. This is like begging for pocket change at a funeral.

If you actually respected the man, you'd have done better than a 1000 word throwaway.

[Waterpear]

I think this would have been better done as a blog post.

[CoastBrumby]

5731445 It made me feel better.

[PegasusMesa]

5731561

Seconded.

Author, in your haste to get this story out, you didn't even bother to read through it for mistakes before hitting "submit". Hope it was worth it to get this published before Pratchett's corpse had even cooled.

[Magello]

This is actively disgusting.

You didn't even bother to format and edit your tribute.

If you're going to do a tribute but some fucking work into it.

"Twilight whipped her head around, only to catch a flash of deep blue eyes and a bony, knowing smile.[/small_caps]" Seriously?

[Glimglam]

Unfortunately author, I fear that I share similar sentiments to 5731561, 5732057, 5731587 , and 5732098, here. Pratchett once wrote that, "Imagination, not intelligence, made us human." I fear that, ironically, there is a distinct lack of imagination in this tribute, as it were. It's just Twilight Sparkle giving a speech/eulogy. That's it. Acting as a mouthpiece for expressing how they've lost a certain somebody that ever-so-conveniently resembles the recently-departed in almost every way. That's really it. And the eulogy itself! I mean, the entire speech seems like it was going be written for a blog or something, but then that idea got canned and was Ctrl-V'd into a story page along with a whopping four paragraphs worth of "story" to frame it and bump up to the thousand-word minimum, because hey, upvotes!

That's... it?

I mean, maybe we have different ideas on what a proper "tribute" should be, but I personally believe a tribute should not mourn one's death -- it should celebrate one's life. Their style. Their work. Fancy italics for emphasizing my point aside, this is not how you do a written tribute. I would GLADLY support a story paying tribute to Pratchett, provided it was treated with care and effort. Not out of want for attention for simply being the first to write one, no, but out of respect for the man himself, and paying tribute to the very things he gave us. Which would be, of course, writing clever, amusing stories that were -- and still are -- a joy to read. This is not a tribute, this is a "rest in peace" eulogy better suited for a real blog than a half-assed story with ponies crammed into it so you can get away with posting it on the site. That's not what I want to see in a tribute.

...Actually, let me show you a very good example of what I mean by a GOOD tribute.

I don't know how many people are familiar with kitty0706 (Colin Wyckoff), but he was quite well-known in the Garry's Mod animation community for producing a variety of random, funny videos. He was perhaps best known for his Moments With Heavy series, or Team Fabulous 2, which has almost fifteen million views at this time of writing. Tragically, he passed away this January due to complications with leukemia, and the community mourned his loss. Tribute videos saying goodbye were made, some done better than others, but this one in particular stood out to me. It pays tribute to Colin's style and brand of humor, and while it's not completely perfect, manages to retain the spirit and charm of the series it was based on. You can really tell that the creators of it -- just two people who really loved and cared about Colin's work -- put their heart and souls into making it the best they can manage.

That is a good tribute. THAT is what I mean by celebrating someone's life and work. (In fact, you should probably go watch it now. It's pretty funny.) Obviously the medium is very different here, but my point still stands.

Kurz gesagt, I feel this should not have been made into a story. The speech that Twilight gave, while not a terrible eulogy by itself, was unnecessarily attached to a poorly-stitched together "frame" that you decided to call a story, where none really exists. That's the fact of the matter here: there is no story. Whether or not your intents are genuine, I doubt this is a very appropriate way of paying tribute to a guy that, y'know, actually wrote some damn good stories. Pratchett's legacy and style was full of life and imagination, and if there is to be any sort of written tribute to him, I would expect a little more care, effort, and yes, imagination put into it.

Sadly, this lacks all three of those things.

I apologize if my views seem harsh, and if you truly believe you are doing the best you can, then at the very least, you should take what me and the others are saying into consideration. Perhaps that, just maybe, something better can be done. Yours is the first tribute fic I've seen thus far, and if there are more to come, it might not even end up being the worst. But it is nowhere near a worthy tribute, at its current stage. It seems as though it was rushed out the door -- he only passed yesterday, and spending LESS than a day writing out a tribute fic seems awfully careless and disrespectful. If it were written well, I'd easily forgive that. But as it turned out...

...well, that's needless to say. Like many, I also respected and admired Mr. Pratchett, and the news of his death was of great shock to me. It was not completely unexpected, as I knew his health was failing, but it nevertheless profoundly impacted me enough to mourn his loss. I've read several of his Discworld novels, among others he has written, and will continue to do so in the near future (I've yet to finish them all, of course!).

Besides some of H.G. Wells' work, Pratchett's Discworld series (namely The Color Of Magic, The Light Fantastic, "Guards! Guards!", and Feet of Clay) were some of the comparatively few fictional novels I've read in my youth, and I loved them. A comical fantasy that never goes overboard, but never gets too grim to stop being fun to read. They were funny, they were interesting, they were packed with personality and charm, and... I don't even know. His style of writing is something I love most of all -- witty, intelligent, and at times, "sensibly ridiculous", as I've come to refer to it. When I think of Pratchett, that's what I think of. That's what I remember, and what I'll likely continue to remember him by in the future to come. He's a man that, like only a handful of other writers, made me smile every time I turned the page.

Having blathered on about all that, you can probably imagine that, right now, I'm a little disappointed with this result I see here. I feel this is a poorly-done tribute of a person with such status and character. I'd almost go as far as to insinuate that it's actually a little insulting, but I'm not one to judge on a whim. Sadly however, I must give this story a downvote, because I simply do not agree with the way you've decided to pay tribute to the man. I'm sorry, but I would have liked to see more effort put into it, those editing gripes aside.

Take these thoughts as merely but an opinion, if you will. But I implore you to at least consider them.

Also, yes, I'm perfectly aware the title says "an inadequate tribute", but that's merely excusing the terrible execution of said tribute, which is a little foolish.

[Bookish Delight]

Dang it, Trampoline.

This would have worked out so much better had you just not invoked Terry's name all over the place (title, description, comments, etc. That's all material for blog posts.) and let it stand on its own. On its own, this is serviceable and people would have gotten it, possibly appreciated it, when they figured out the sentiment behind it.

But don't plaster the name all over it. Sheesh. That actually has the ironic effect of taking the attention off of both your story and the person you wish to honor. That's how you incur the wrath of... um... ten hyperbolically angry geeks, to say nothing of putting undue expectations onto your story that you seriously could have avoided.

Subtlety, I swear. It's a lost art.

[Bookish Delight]

That all said:

Still a better story than what came out of #savetree.

[SuperGiantRobot]

No.

Bad author.

Bad.

Poor form; you'll note nobody else did this. There's a reason.

[Super Trampoline]

5745163
5734324
5734322
5732295
5732098
5732057
5731992
5731587
5731561
5731532 So we can agree this was a bad idea, I think.

[Bookish Delight]

5745566

No, just bad form/dressing.

Its probably too late to salvage the concept by this point, but by the same token, the last thing you should do is take all that bellyaching below to heart.

The true problem is far simpler (and of far less consequence) than the indignance on display makes it out to be. Honestly, I wonder what they would have done had this been a Pratchett bashing piece.

[SuperGiantRobot]

5745802

It's not bellyaching so much as showing him that it's kind of distasteful.

A similar thing happen when that girl Kiki died; someone chugged out a thousand-,worder 'based on her life' not even two hours after the annoucement of her death about a filly who just happened to have the same illness and waited for the upvotes.

The site fell on him like a crate of anvils on Wile E. Coyote.

[Bookish Delight]

5746030

Yes, I do vaguely remember that. It (the fic) was kind of silly. Laugh-worthy, really, if one looks past their initial knee-jerk reaction.

Though again, the response there doesn't exactly prove any points. And by the nature of the submission sure it doesn't look like Trampoline was fishing for upvotes here so much as he wanted to let his feelings out.

But once again, welcome to Fimfiction, where the punishment always fits the crime.

[Super Trampoline]

5746030
5746177 The thing is, I read something very good about Robin williams on this site when he died, and I know Present Perfect's Laugh Ponyacci Laugh is one of his highest rated stories. So I thought it would be smooth sailing. Oops.

[Luna Aeterna Solutae]

5731445 As he was mine. I cried...