Personal Thoughts on Robert Jordan

Last night I did the just-the-facts obituary thing, as if I was some sort of official news outlet or something. (Sometimes it's rituals that get us through life, after all.) But today it's time to thank Jordan as a reader and an editor.

I think I met him once, in passing -- he won (or was runner-up for) one of the last SFBC Book of the Year Awards, when there was still a physical award to give and we actually had a party to celebrate it. I was a young, shy, very junior editor-person, and he was *ROBERT*JORDAN*, so I don't think I even said hello to him. But that was it; I didn't know him, or have any direct dealing with him.

All I did was sell his books. That's all. I got to pass along something those readers wanted, to hear back from them about the bits they loved or hated, and to get the letters complaining that the books were too long and too slow and (without pausing for metaphorical breath) wondering how soon the next one could possibly be published.

He almost single-handedly remade the field of epic fantasy in his own image in the early '90s. And he didn't do it through manifestos or winning awards or arm-twisting, but through writing books that more and more people loved and wanted more of. That's the best kind of writer, and the world is a smaller, darker place now without him.

Farewell, Jim Rigney, and thanks for everything.