The amazing man known as Robert Jordan died a few days ago. What is that ephemeral thread between reader and writer? He never knew me, nor probably would have cared to know me. But I distinctly remember, as if I read them yesterday, passages from the first volume of the Wheel of Time series. What a complicated, profound adventure Jordan set out upon. And I traveled with him for a time. I know people who would reread every single book in the series as the next one came out. Jordan died of a rare blood disorder. All I can do is utter a prayer for a man I didn’t know, but appreciated immensely.