From the Book of Secular Saints
Mike Ford wrote for the most intelligent person in the room, which was usually himself. He seemed to be desperately trying to fail and never quite succeeding. He will be forgotten, I think, because he never wrote that one work whose virtues would be as clear to the masses as they were to him. Perhaps he would not care. He was a stoic who went painfully down to early death, determined not to discomfort others with it.
He was the only person ever to win a World Fantasy Award for his Christmas card, a record likely to last forever.
To the left of the lamppost, it says no story here. To the right, it says one here but I can't see it.
Every word in the abandoned brief sketch of the late John M. Ford was written in admiration, incidentally. Just so you don't misunderstand me. I was thinking about doing a short sketch of him, but just jotting down those few words made me so sad, sad, sad, I didn't have the heart for it.
A very smart, very witty guy. I remember one Worldcon where they gave us all nametags reading HELLO. MY NAME IS . . . Under which he had written INIGO MONTOYEZ. YOU KILLED MY FATHER. PREPARE TO DIE.
He died too far young. We all miss him.