Dragonwriter by Todd McCaffrey Read Free Book Online Page A

about them on the back of their book?
    The first time it happened, she asked me to read a book that she frankly “didn’t get.” Most authors would have refused to blurb it or damned it with faint praise. But Annie was sure no one would ask her to blurb a bad book, and she really wanted to say something nice. And it was an award winner. I read it and “got it” and told her how much I liked it, and she took me at my word and was relieved to be able to say those nice things.
    The time that really sticks in my mind involved a galley proof of a fantasy novel from an American publisher. She said nothing, simply asked me to read the first fifty-or-so pages as she had a particular question to ask. Thank goodness she only needed me to read fifty pages. Shortly before this I had seen the film Roxanne, starring Steve Martin, and knew that Annie had enjoyed it. So in reverence to the scene where Steve lambastes a guy in a bar for wasting the opportunity to make fun of his nose by displaying a complete lack of wit, I honored the movie with my own version featuring twenty different ways of saying how bad a book could be—there were singing elves marching through the forest for fuck’s sake, and the lyrics of their songs were lovingly rendered in italic script. Annie countered with a page on which she had found, counted, and underlined more than sixty adjectives and adverbs.
    Annie’s problem was not that she could not tell a bad book, but that she was looking to see if there was anything of worth in there whatsoever so that she could write the blurb. In the end, I could only persuade her to politely decline the request, which she did with some reluctance.
    Nothing was too much trouble for Annie, and at times when you would expect her to be focused on herself and her own needs, she always had time for others. I was reminded of this in conversation with (English SF writer) John Meaney shortly after Annie passed away. He mentioned to me how she had befriended and inspired him and how she had attempted to help his career by seating him beside Diana Tyler, her agent, at Todd’s wedding as she felt it would be a good opportunity for him to hook a top-of-the-line agent. At the same wedding I was afforded the opportunity, through the good graces of the family, to interview one of the guests, Lois McMaster Bujold, for my magazine—not usually considered to be part of the best man’s duties, but I didn’t lose the ring or embarrass Todd in my speech, so I guess they were happy enough to give me that latitude.
    At Gigi’s wedding, Stacey was matron of honor, so I was alone at a distant table. But as I was a wannabe writer, guess where they seated me? Poor Diana Tyler must have thought it was a bad case of déjà vu as we discussed my novel at length. Annie and Todd (the apple didn’t fall far from the tree) had been busy again ensuring that nobody missed out.
    Annie’s consideration for others reached far beyond her extended adopted family to her fans. She loved to meet her public and had endless patience and good humor to share with them. She was well-known at conventions all over the world, where she threw herself headlong into the action and was genuinely interested in everyone who was interested in her and her work. But it didn’t stop at conventions. I remember one afternoon sitting in the bay window of the kitchen in Dragonhold-Underhill, chatting with Alec, when a strange car pulled up outside.
    â€œFans,” Alec said, shaking his head. As her eldest, Alec always felt a need to protect his mother, often from herself. But nobody ever stopped Annie from doing precisely as she pleased. The fans, it turned out, had flown into Dublin airport from the United States, looked up Annie in the phone book—where she was proudly listed as Anne McCaffrey, Writer—and called her up, at which point Annie invited them to Dragonhold for the night. I could sympathize with