Harry Harrison's official webpage says that he's gone.
If you don't know the name, I'm sorry for you. You've missed an awful lot of fun.
If you recognise the name - and most of you reading this will - you'll understand why I'm feeling a little downbeat.
I'll say only this: I really don't know what kind of person I'd have been if I hadn't discovered a trove of Stainless Steel Rat books when I was still back in primary school. I can't tell you how many endless hours of toxic bullshit I wallpapered away with the adventures of Jim diGriz and the many others that Harry Harrison created.
No, I'm not arguing that he wrote immortal literature. But he had a hell of a sense of fun, and his priorities were in the right place, and his books made a thousand worlds of difference to me at a time when I desperately needed that escape.
I'm sorry I never got to say 'thanks' in person.
Hamburgers, the superfood.
7 hours ago