But here we are. On Sept. 17, 2020, at age 72, Terry Goodkind passed away of causes still not released.
I won't celebrate. I never once wished him dead. If you go over this blog in detail you'll notice that never did I suggest that it's a terrible thing that he's still alive, or anything of that nature. I offer my sincere condolences to his family. He was married. I don't think he had children, but he did have loved ones. He had fans who genuinely mourn his passing.
I also have to congratulate Terry for living the dream. Whatever else may be true of him, he died a multi-million selling author who achieved a level of success few do. Whether he deserved it is, in the face of the mere fact, irrelevant. He did it. I haven't done it (yet, he hedges). Chances are pretty good you haven't done it. So, yeah, he deserves all the kudos one can give for that.
I'm not even happy that there won't be any more volumes in the Sword of Truth (or whatever you want to call it) series/world. There are already so many they threaten to take over any rack they're put on, and they're all still in print and likely available at the nearest book store to you, wherever you are. I have yet to find a single book store that doesn't have multiple volumes available. I mean, what would I celebrate there? So there are only 27 volumes available instead of 90 or however many there would be if Goodkind had lived longer. That's still 27 volumes that will likely remain in print and selling well for the next decade plus, and he will still end up being read by a ton of readers who've not read him yet.
If anything, his death will probably just increase his readership. Authors who have died tend to be viewed with a sort of gravity that authors who are still alive are not, even if they weren't that good. The idea that you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead will also prevent people from warning away potential readers from Goodkind's garbage.
But again, I'm not going to rejoice that a human being has died. The only times that happens are when the recently deceased is a multi-murder or rapist, and neither was the case here, despite Goodkind's penchant for over-long, loving descriptions of rape and murder. He was many things, but an inhuman monster he was not. Those haters of his who are going on social media and saying "good riddance" or "no more Richard books! yaaaay!" (two actual quotes I've seen with my own eyes) should be ashamed of themselves. You will not find me among their number.
But you also won't find me among the number praising him as some sort of genius lost to us too early as I've seen some bemoaning. I will not falsely eulogize him as something he wasn't. If instead of dying he had merely retired, I would absolutely be celebrating. Because nothing I've said on this blog is untrue, nor does it cease being true just because he died.
He still is the man who made millions writing in the fantasy genre while trashing it left and right.
He is still the man who stole all his good ideas from better writers while constantly saying he was a better writer than any of them.
He is still the man who trashed his own publishing company, the one who gave him an almost unprecedented marketing campaign and made him the overnight success that he was, calling it an "accident" that he ever signed with them and complaining endlessly about how they "misled" readers into thinking he was writing fantasy, when it was actually the fact that he was writing fantasy that gave us the impression he was writing fantasy.
He is still the man who said gang rape was democracy in action.
He is still the man who claimed that he had irrevocably changed the face of fantasy and raised the standards by injecting thought into that tired, empty genre.
He is still the man who claimed all fantasy writers besides him focus on magic and world-building and therefore don't write good plots.
He is still the man who claimed repeatedly that his sales were far better than they were (even though they were phenomenal sales), suggesting that the fact that he was outselling anyone else writing fantasy (a false claim) meant his writing was so far above theirs that he couldn't be considered a "mere" fantasy writer.
He is still the man who employed a webmaster who, almost certainly with Goodkind's consent, spammed the internet with false claims about Goodkind's success, his pull within the industry, and even spent months on the lie that George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire TV adaptation was dead in the water, doubling down on it whenever anyone stated he was wrong.
He is still the man who complained bitterly about the cover art on his books, even though they were perfectly representative, even at one point encouraging his fans to mock the art as well, then accusing the artist of "pot-stirring" when he objected to the behavior.
He is still the man who took in well over 100,000 dollars of fans' money, promising them a whack of collectible merch, that he then didn't give them.
He is still the man who, when a copy of his book was leaked online by a hacker, chose not to sue the hacker and let the law handle it but instead to dox him and put him in fear for his life.
He is still the man who, when confronted about his behavior and quotes, tried to suggest we just didn't understand him and it's our fault for getting it wrong.
And he is still the man who created a murderous tautological templar and a bloodthirsty, mind-raping woman and held them out as the epitome of all that is pure and good about humanity. He is the man who wrote many, many scenes of women being threatened with rape or actually raped, to the point where it was obvious he was getting off on it. He is still the man who portrayed any non-white peoples as being backward and in need of his White Savior to show them the way (even to the point of naming one of them the "mud people"). He is still the man who wrote some very standard fantasies, flavored them with some really whacked philosophy, and then tried to claim that his books were so unique and different that we'd never see anything like them again.
And I haven't even talked about his open, public mocking of Robert Jordan's illness, at one point mocking how Jordan couldn't make a fantasy con due to his condition (my understanding is that he made claims that this was just an excuse or something) and also telling his fans, literally right after Jordan went public about his illness, that his own heart was in great condition. I didn't spend time on that because I couldn't find the exact remarks, but it's on record that he did this, and to what end, I couldn't say.
So, yeah, I won't forget this. I still hold out hope that Goodkind will be seen for the hack he was, and that his garbage personality combined with his less-than-impressive writing skills will be his ultimate legacy. I don't think his passing changes anything or excuses anything. While I'm not going to celebrate it, and never wished for it, his death doesn't negate the way he chose to live his life and respond to the success he saw.
My hope is that he is remembered primarily as what not to do when one achieves success.
I will close this by saying that I had been mulling over for some time continuing this blog with some re-reads and reviews of his books. But that's been done to death. I've already recommended two sporkings of him, and I can say by just reading a couple of pages of one of his newest offerings that he never got better as a writer, so I really just don't see the point.
This blog, like the man it criticizes, is finished. May it stand as testimony to anyone wondering if they should pick up one of his books.
