Since Eugie Foster can’t write this, I will.
Tanith Lee had a beautiful, poetic style of writing, one far too lacking in new–and old–writers. There was magic, not only in what she wrote about, but in how she wrote it. I enjoyed everything I read of her’s, and respected her skill, but like so many authors, I’ve only managed to read a small portion of her works.
For Eugie it was a different matter. She devoured Lee’s books. We have a bookcase just for Tanith Lee. “The Silver Metal Lover” sat out in our living room for the better part of a decade–I have no idea how many times Eugie read it, but it was many. There was always at least one Lee book laying on the bed side.
In the days before Amazon, whenever I would go on a business trip, I’d scour the local used bookstores looking for some worn paperback of Lee’s work–things available only in Britain. I remember paying $60 for a frayed book with an original price under a pound. When access to foreign books became more common, I lost my go-to place for Eugie gifts, as she bought up everything there was to be had.
Tanith Lee had a huge impact on Eugie. She was one of the main reasons Eugie became a writer (the others I’ll keep to myself). A note of encouragement from Lee meant the world to Eugie. I think they were of a kind.
Lee was always a figure in literature, but she never gained the renown that she deserved. She was one of the greats, not just of fantasy or of recent years–she was simply one of the greats. I fear we will not see her kind again.
(I waited on this till I found some confirmation.)