C.J. Cherryh
by Joan D. Vinge

Carolyn Cherryh and I go back a long and winding way. I think we've known each other for nearly twenty years now, almost as long as we've both been professional writers. We have a lot of other things in common too, like being about the same age, about the same height; having reddish hair, and last names that confound almost everyone who tries to pronounce them. The first I met her, I knew immediately that I was going to like her as much as I already liked her writing (needless to say, a lot).

Over the years since then we've seen each other mainly at SF cons, those floating small towns. But ìquality timeî can be as hard to get as the brass ring on a merry-go-round; to score an entire dinner-hour is a rare prize. Too many of my memories are of ten minutes talk-ing in a hallway, an hour on a panel, a "see you later" promise that I never got to keep. But I'll always have Chiconóa perfect memory of standing on a stage to hand Carolyn a Hugo for Best Novel.

C.J. Cherryh, like Michael Whelan, is one of those people who really deserve their gifts from the Muses. Besides her creativity, she has intelligence, a wicked sense of humor, and real insight into human nature. She's also one of the most inspirational people I've ever met, although I've never had the chance to tell her so.

So, Carolyn, here it is: A few years ago I was deep in the middle of writing The Summer Queen, a book I was beginning to think was going to take up as much real time as it covered fictionally (i.e., twenty years). One day at lunch time I opened a box of newly-arrived books, and included in it was your book Rimrunners. I rarely get to read for pure pleasure any more; but by the time I'd finished eating I was glued to that book. I couldn't put it down.

It was a terrific read, but it was also something more. It filled me with bliss the word Joseph Campbell uses to describe the joy of doing the thing you were meant to do, the one thing that truly fulfills you. After reading Rimrunners, almost feverishly, I went back to my own writing like a woman possessed. I wrote and wrote and wrote, for about five weeks, staying up until 5:30 in the morning, getting up at about noon; at the pool with the kids, in the hush of the night. I wrote three hundred pages of manuscript that summer, and every day was ecstasy. Normally, I'm a very slow writer; I've never been "in the zone" for weeks on end, before or since. It happened because of your book, the gift of your writing that you share with us all. Thank you.

I know that Carolyn's work has given gifts of wonder to countless other readers, as well. When you see her at this convention, don't be afraid to tell her how much you enjoy her books. She deserves to hear every word, for all the unforgettable stories she's given to the world, and all the joy she's shared with us.

(P.S. Cherryh rhymes with "cherry"; Vinge rhymes with "stingy". Trust me on this.)