I am sad. Michael Crichton had died. He was one of my favorite authors; he was such a great writer. He was the creator of ER which was one of the most awesome shows years ago…now, not so much. My mother and I used to tune in every Thursday(?) to watch it. He also wrote and directed Twister, one of the most broke movies that I love to this day. (“We have debris!….DEBRIS?!”)
My favorite book of his is his non-fiction book, Travels. He talks about being disillusioned with medical school, and describes the trips he has taken around the world. The vacations don’t turn out how one would normally expect and he put a hilarious and realistic perspective on vacations. He describes climing Kiliminjaro and how horrible it was, but how everyone pretends it’s this great feat.
These books were comforting to me; when I wanted to relax and unwind throughout the years, I would pick up one of my dog-eared copies of his books and get lost in them. I am sad this voice is gone. He died of cancer. I had no idea he was 66 years old. There is something very admirable about people who have terminal illnesses and don’t broadcast them to the world. I hope his family were able to have some nice moments with him at the end.