You know, I met Robert Jordan once. It was in high school and my friend, Paul, had a car. Robert Jordan was in town doing a signing, and we were both huge fans. So we ditched campus and headed over to the mall, where we found him seated at a table outside Waldenbooks. No one else was there, and he was quiet, and kind, and signed our books. Paul and I were both horribly shy around him—it was a huge deal even just being in his presence—and we got out of there fast. But afterwards, we both wished we had stayed longer and talked. And now, as an author, I realize that he probably wouldn’t have minded. He probably would have appreciated it.
Anyway. He passed away yesterday.