YES! My first ever complete fanfic!! What a great feeling this is! If it weren't for the insomnia and the sudden panic attacks – hang on! That's someone else's thank you-speech!
Who am I trying to kid here? I want to thank you, yes YOU, dear reader, for having travelled this far with me, and a very special thank you to all the people who have reviewed my efforts along the way. It is a wonderful feeling to have people care enough to actually offer you their constructive views and opinions, and I am humbled by the experience! Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Although all reviewers are equally appreciated, there is a special place in my heart for all those who have continually helped me, and to whom I am especially indebted:
Thank you lady B Vimes – sorely missed – and Manx, my counterweight friend far away. Thank you to Dreamkin – my italics guru – thank you Vee and Gok (I'm sorry I never told you what it was Angua said (or did)), and Yap, my first ever (?) German fan, and to all the rest of you – you have truly carried me on your shoulders.
Like I wrote in my bio some time ago, this whole story sprung from a couple of throwaway lines in "Wheels of Fortune" (that haven't been published yet). In spite of its humble origins, though, and in spite of the fact that the story only covers about twelve hours of RDT1, I still feel that it has a point to it that made it worth telling2. I'm not big on Judaism, Christianity or Islam and what they have done to our world, preferring instead the more measured approach found in Buddhism. Thus it was natural to depict the story's madman as a fanatic of an unspecified caricature of the former, in a world governed by rules of nature more in line with the latter. And a world in which he ultimately serves a higher purpose, at that – quite the opposite to what one might have thought.
Of course, when I was nearly finished, I realised that this story was anything but new. After all, when the One God was made flesh on Roundworld, his preferred mode of transportation was a humble donkey. Only no one ever asked about its fate. Go figure. It's all karma, in the end.
Anyway. I shall get back to "Wheels" now, and then there are couple of other ideas sloshing about in the clogged up aquarium I call my brain . . . Must write . . . Must . . .
1Real Discworld Time.
2 It's just a blessing that I don't feel that way about all my scribblings, or I'd be stuck in front of the computer for life (although I seem to recall that someone thought that a good idea . . . You know who you are!).