et lux perpetua
Sep. 25th, 2006 11:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rushthatspeaksI never met John M. (Mike) Ford. I always hoped I would.
I remember perfectly the first time I ran across his poem 'Winter Solstice, Camelot Station' in one anthology or another. After I finished weeping with awe, I spent three hours trying to call up my college roommate Sei, the other most devoted fan of Arthuriana I know, and when I failed to get through sat down and typed every word of it out to her over email, in the certain and totally correct knowledge that she would go and buy a copy of her own instantly. I still think it's the best modern piece about the Matter of Britain that I've read.
I stumbled over the short story 'Erase/Record/Play' in a different anthology. I went immediately to find my wife so I could read it aloud to her and we could sit in stunned and heartbroken silence.
It took me several years to figure out it was the same guy, but I wasn't surprised that it was when I finally got it through my head. Because those are the only two pieces to which I've ever had the reaction that they had to be shared *immediately*, that I could not rest until I showed them to people I loved who would love them too. That was his writing: too good to keep to oneself.
Requiescat in pace. To those who knew him, loved him, my heartfelt sorrow for your loss.
I remember perfectly the first time I ran across his poem 'Winter Solstice, Camelot Station' in one anthology or another. After I finished weeping with awe, I spent three hours trying to call up my college roommate Sei, the other most devoted fan of Arthuriana I know, and when I failed to get through sat down and typed every word of it out to her over email, in the certain and totally correct knowledge that she would go and buy a copy of her own instantly. I still think it's the best modern piece about the Matter of Britain that I've read.
I stumbled over the short story 'Erase/Record/Play' in a different anthology. I went immediately to find my wife so I could read it aloud to her and we could sit in stunned and heartbroken silence.
It took me several years to figure out it was the same guy, but I wasn't surprised that it was when I finally got it through my head. Because those are the only two pieces to which I've ever had the reaction that they had to be shared *immediately*, that I could not rest until I showed them to people I loved who would love them too. That was his writing: too good to keep to oneself.
Requiescat in pace. To those who knew him, loved him, my heartfelt sorrow for your loss.
