RIP Anne McCaffery

I just read that Anne McCaffery has died.

I never met her, not really. I did get my Pern books autographed when she last came to Uncle Hugo's, but we probably only exchanged the usual, "How do you spell that?"

But the book I presented her to sign was dog eared, worn almost to tatters with rereading and so deeply, deeply loved.

Pern was my first fandom, before that word was really in usage, and certainly before I knew what it meant. I read the Dragonrider books over and over to the point that I had passages memorized. I wrote fan fic, drew fan art, and spent a large portion of my waking hours imagining myself as F'lar or F'nor or Robinton, the Harpermaster of Pern. I talked friends into reading the books so I could talk to them about it. One of my best friends even bought me a wine glass with a blue stem, because it was just like Robinton's. I used to put cinnamon in my coffee so I could pretend it was klah. I never did, but I desperately wanted to join those cool people in the weyr BBSs.

Anne McCaffery's world captured me in a way no others had before, and few would afterwards.