Todd McCaffrey
Robin/Todd
LETTERS TO/FROM TODD McCAFFREY
December 3, 2003 (7 days prior to her death)
Dawn wrote:
Hi Todd,
It was great meeting you at the dragon con and I just loved the writer’s workshop. Thanks for taking the time and effort to do that with us!
Are there plans for another workshop next year? And if so how would someone get into it?
Also what is it like stepping into your mum’s shoes and taking over the “Weyrleadership” of Pern?
Thanks Dawn,
I’m glad you liked the writer’s workshop. I had a lot of fun, too. I don’t know quite what the plans are for next year.
Although I would like to do the writer’s workshop at Dragon*con 2004, I’ve also been toying with the idea of what I’m now calling the Openverse, a sort of Open Source writers’ multiverse. I suspect if the writer’s workshop was popular, then Anna Smith might ask if we want to do it again.
As to your second question, first I must say that I’m glad that I’m not the only one to take on the “Weyrleaderhip” of Pern — my sister Georgeanne (“Gigi”) is also a capable writer who has a keen interest in Pern. She’s currently dealing with a five year-old, so a lot of her energy is directed to parenting but I’m looking forward to the day when we can see how she views Pern.
Also, I don’t think of myself as “stepping into your mum’s shoes” as much as trying to head in her direction. The world of the dragonriders is a very special place and a lot of it still remains unseen. For myself, I think I’ll mostly do my writing in the Third Pass for the moment, starting with Dragonsblood.
— Todd
Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2004 9:26 pm
Thought I should copy this "Open Letter to Dawn" here, before it disappears.
As many of you know, Dawn's favorite author was Anne McCaffrey. Anne's son Todd is also an author and Dawn was lucky enough to meet both Anne and Todd. The following was written by Todd.
Open letter to Dawn Wednesday, December 17, 2003 6:46 PM (7 days after to her death)
Dear Dawn,
I write this letter knowing you won't be able to respond. And while I've no doubt that you'd expect me to use this opportunity to poke fun at you, I'm afraid that I hadn't quite learned enough about you to know what was the line for you between good and bad taste.
I really, really, REALLY was looking forward to reading Andavan. I knew you were working hard on it and it sounded much like you might have been close to finishing it.
I was also looking forward to sending you the first draft of Dragonsblood -- I had already decided that your input would be very useful. And I was going to be done this week -- you probably would have found over eight hundred pages on your doorstep around Christmas.
I was hoping to see you at the Famous Writer Wannabe week (are we ever going to get a short name for it or should we just call it "feh-weh-weh"? Perhaps that's for the best because then we'll all sound like toddlers).
Also, I really, really, REALLY wanted to see your face when you sold your first book. And when you got your first award.
I remember you telling me at Dragon*con about Strider and the rescue dogs. I think I remember hearing you express some doubts, too -- only to overwhelm them with confidence.
You gave your life trying to rescue a dog you were training to be a rescue dog. He got in trouble in the waves and you went in to save him. You took a risk, I'm sorry you lost.
But I know now for sure that there's a Heaven. And I'll tell you why. It was a story I was sent by the man who is J'lantir in Dragon's Kin. The story's long and I'll bet you've heard it by now but here it is:
Heaven
A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.
After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like Mother of Pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold.
He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are we?"
"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.
"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked.
"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up." The man gestured, and the gate began to open.
"Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."
The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road which led through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.
"Excuse me!" he called to the reader. "Do you have any water?"
"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there". The man pointed to a place that couldn't be seen from outside the gate. "Come on in."
"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.
"There should be a bowl by the pump." They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it.
The traveler filled the bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree waiting for them.
"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.
"This is Heaven," he answered.
"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."
"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's Hell."
"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"
"No. I can see how you might think so, but we're just happy that they screen out the folks who'll leave their best friends behind."
So, you see, it's pretty obvious to me that you must be in Heaven.
Well, now, you've no excuse not to get the book finished. As for editors, you should try either Judy-Lyn Del Rey or John Campbell -- I'd go with Judy-Lyn. For that matter, you could ask Lester as well. Say hi to them for me, please. You'll probably find a writer's workshop there already -- with Isaac Asimov, Poul Anderson, Roger Zelazny, John Brunner, Jim White (hi, Jim!), and Bob Heinlein (he's got Ginny, now, which is good). And you can't knock Damon Knight for critiques. And there'll be conventions up there, certainly. Look up Bruce Pelz (who is probably running them) and say hi to Gary Louie, too, please. And when it comes time for a publisher, you can't go wrong with Ian Ballantine -- who fathered four publishing companies in his time (including Ballantine and Del Rey).
I'll look for you in the dawn. I'll look for you at night. I'll look for you in the clouds -- will you be riding a dragon? Or walking the dog? I guess it's your choice, now.
All my love, Todd
_________________
Dawn and Chris's Dad
MORE ON DAWN FROM HER OLD FRIEND ASHLEY MERRITT
Dear Todd,
Dawn Ziegler has been my best friend for 28 years. We met when I was 8 and she was 10. I remember celebrating the 4th of July Bi-Centennial with her on a beach in Los Angeles. We, of course, went off without our parents and caused them much alarm while we were locked in one of the first of our many famous conversations.
She has been the truest of friends and I can only hope to be able to go on without her in the world. I am still in shock, wondering when I get to wake up from this nightmare. Waiting for her to come back and wonder where the heck is all her stuff?!?! I have some of her precious things, I will gladly give them back.
We used to ride her horses, crazy-wild along the Santa Cruz mountain tops, hands mane-entangled, laughing our asses off, living moments of the many dreams we had. We had entire personas and scenarios within which we would endlessly play. We had Deeds of Ownership for our imaginary horses and blood lines of royalty for ourselves.
Sharing our poetry and stories with each other was second nature and such a thrill. She has always been so very talented. Our visions of unicorns and dragons and heroic acts are still vibrant and alive in my mind.
I, too, have been anxiously awaiting the completion of Andavan. She better send me a draft… so I can proof it! I have always been her spelling/definitions guru… funny that… She would ask me (even up until last week) how to spell something, even when she had an online dictionary at her disposal, for old-time’s sake or simply to let me feel brilliant… I keep looking for her on AIM, wishing that I could define or spell something for her, whereas she is defining something altogether new for herself…
I know that when it is my turn to follow, her hand will be the first one reaching for mine and her smile will beem and her twinkling eyes will look into mine and it will be as if no time has passed…as is always the case with us.
I want to thank you for your open letter to her. It moved me so very much and I know that she is grinning like an idiot wherever she is because of it. Being a fan of your mother’s work for so long, she and I were both excited when she made your aquaintance. I’m a particular fan of the Crystal Singer. And, you KNOW what a fan Dawn is of the Dragon Riders…
Your friendship and support helped strengthen her resolve and confidence even more and I thank you for that from the bottom of my heart. Knowing that she was in the happiest place and time of her life, knowing that she had a family of friends around her that believed in her so much and knowing that she lived up to being the hero she wanted to be gives me much comfort during this unimaginable time.
We were two odd peas that formed our own odd pod and her love and friendship fill me up to overflowing… how I will miss her and yet, she is even more with me now than ever before, if that’s possible. We were ever together and thick as thieves. She’s still right with me, nudging me along and hugging me and poking me when I get too heavy and serious…
Thank you again for being her friend and for your admiration of her writing and her spirit. Please know that it meant so very much to her.
She is truly a Shield Maiden of Rohan and she will always be my hero.
With joy for having been blessed with her presence, with sorrow for her early departure… although, if this is the price I must pay for having had her in my life, I will willingly pay it until the end of my days.
Blessings to you, good man, and with deepest gratitude,
Ashley
Dear Ashley,
Thank you for your lovely letter and for agreeing to share it here online.
Dawn truly was a marvelous person. I am only beginning to suspect the huge number of people whose lives she touched — and who were enriched by her.
— Todd
Ashley also said that if any of Dawn’s friends want to contact her, they can e-mail her at jiggymama@earthlink.net.