Poul Anderson passed away last night, July 31-August 1, around midnight.
During the afternoon, he received hundreds of emails and messages from
friends and readers and fellow writers, which Astrid and Karen printed out
and read to him. He died knowing (and how!) that he was loved and valued,
and hearing how much his work had entertained and moved so many. Though he
was weak at the end, there was no loss of mental capacity, and my last
conversation with him was slow but sparkling with the curiosity and
deep-seated gentlemanliness that Poul always had, and which was, I think,
built into his whole body and being.
He is survived by his wife and writing partner, Karen, his daughter Astrid,
brother John, grandchildren Erik and Alexandra, nieces Janet and Cathy, and
by millions of readers.
Poul was a friendly acquaintance from many SFWA suites at many cons past. I
got to know him in the professional SF world, not in the SCA, although *my*
career in the SCA predates mine in SF.
I knew he was getting older and iller, but I was pleasantly surprised about
six years ago when he turned up at a con in Chicago as a guest when I was
with TSR. It was a great chance to get to sit and chat with an old friend. I
think then I knew I'd never be able to do it again.
I'll miss him.