I Shall Wear Midnight, but not today

So...finally I have read the latest Discworld book, I Shall Wear Midnight, and as with pretty much all Discworld books, it made me cry a bit. (In a good way).

Unusually, however, it wasn't the actual novel that made me cry (though it was awesome and heartwarming and generally brilliant) but the author's note at the end. I read it and I cried for the beauty of stories and for the transience of human life and because I will never, ever, in a million years, be able to write something as good.

That doesn't mean I won't try, though.

And that's kind of the point.

Sure, it was great to have Tiffany visiting Ankh-Morpork, finding out that they've finally made Angua a Captain in the Watch, seeing (just passing through) all kinds of characters half-forgotten and soon-remembered. It was amazing to have Tiffany fighting the latest evil and the Nac Mac Feegle and Granny and Nanny and casual mentions of Mightily Oats and all the rest, but the real beauty of it, the real gift, was the spirit of it.

The spirit inhabiting all Discworld books, which is simply that Anything Is Possible. That good can triumph, that you can find your way in the world, that the universe is your playground if you can think about it the right way. (And of course, the moral of the story as vocalised by Tiffany, which is that the best thing in the world is finding what you're good at and doing it).

Discworld books are those that should be read with caution, especially if you're dosed with the cold and painkillers, because they make you want to leap from your bed and change the world.

God works through weakness, and right now I have a lot to spare.

Or, to quote Granny Weatherwax in Carpe Jugulum, '

"Don’t chase faith, ’cos you’ll never catch it.” She added, almost as an aside, “But, perhaps, you can live faithfully.”"

And to the part of me that wants to know every step of the path, and wants to know HOW, I can only respond, 'Go do something good.'

A year ago my mother and I were being made a gourmet dinner by my nuttiest ever housemate. Today I am tucked up in my own house snuffling, and ill, and slightly chilly.

And even though my vocation seems to have vanished without trace...I'd still rather be here, and rather be this me, than anyone or anywhere else in the world.

When I am old, I shall wear midnight...but not today.

Today I shall wear red. Today I shall sing.

How about you?