Posts Tagged ‘Neil Peart’

Neil Peart, Sept. 12, 1952–Jan. 7, 2020 #RIP

I was standing in a pharmacy this afternoon when my phone rang. It was my dear friend Randy Giudice calling from Los Angeles. I hadn’t heard from Randy in some time, so I picked up right away.

He was the one who broke the news to me that my hero, Neil Peart of Rush, had died:

Neil Peart, Rush Drummer Who Set a New Standard for Rock Virtuosity, Dead at 67

Shattered. Gutted. Bereft. That’s where I am right now.

I never had the honor of meeting Neil, (as I did with his Rush band-mates Alex Lifeson and Geddy Lee, in 2007), but Neil once sent me a brief but friendly email, as thanks for naming a character in his honor in my first pair of published Star Trek novels, A Time to Kill and A Time to Heal.

I wish I could have known the man behind the drum kit; I wish I could have had the chance someday to call the Professor a friend. Now that hope is forever quashed, and a measure of my joy in this life departs with him.

Neil Peart was more to me than a musician and an author in a band that I’ve loved most of my life. He was an inspiration to me, a guiding star, a talent who gave words and form to ideas that helped me find my own way as an artist and as a person.

Almost every work of prose I’ve ever published has contained some form of homage, either subtle or overt (usually overt), to Neil Peart’s lyrics. He was my idol — which, given his aversion to the notion of idolatry, is somewhat ironic.

I will always treasure the body of work that he and Rush created and shared with the world, and my grieving heart goes out to his family, his friends, and his colleagues.

All the world’s a stage, but the Professor has just made his exit, stage left.

Goodbye, Neil.

#RIPNeilPeart

The measure of a life: Leonard Nimoy

In his final tweet, posted Monday, February 23, 2015, Leonard Nimoy wrote:

This sentiment brought tears to my eyes as it reminded me of Neil Peart’s poignant lyrics to “The Garden,” the final track on the album Clockwork Angels by RUSH​:

“The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn, so easily burned

In the fullness of time,
A garden to nurture and protect
(It’s a measure of a life)

The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
The way you live, the gifts that you give

In the fullness of time,
It’s the only return that you expect

The future disappears into memory
With only a moment between.
Forever dwells in that moment,
Hope is what remains to be seen.”

Now as I listen to this song, I can’t help but think of Leonard Nimoy’s poetic valediction and be moved. He gave generously of his gifts, and he served as an inspiration to more lives than can easily be counted.

If the measure of a life is one of love and respect, Leonard Nimoy’s was off the charts.

Thank you for everything, Leonard. Long may your garden continue to bear fruit.

 

An Anthology of RUSH-inspired Fiction

Now that co-editor and fellow author Kevin J. Anderson has spilled the beans on his blog, I am free to announce my own participation in an upcoming short-fiction anthology he’s helping to curate.

starman_cover_2112

2113: Songs Inspired by the Music of Rush started as the brainchild of co-editor and contributing author John McFetridge, who pitched the idea to Canadian publisher ECW Press. Kevin came aboard shortly thereafter, and with John he pitched the idea to Neil Peart and the other members of Rush to secure their blessings for the project, which they graciously granted.

Neil isn’t directly involved with the project, but wait until you see the lineup of authors who are.

Kevin J. Anderson will be contributing an original novella, “2113,” a sequel to the band’s perennially popular fourth album, 2112. Filling out the rest of the tome’s roster are such award-winning, best-selling, and acclaimed writers as David Farland, Mercedes Lackey, Greg van Eekhout, Dayton Ward, Steven Savile, Brian Hodge, Michael Z. Williamson, Brad R. Torgersen, David Niall Wilson, Ron Collins, Mark Leslie, Larry Dixon, and Tim Lasiuta. In addition, the anthology will feature reprintings of Richard Foster‘s story “A Nice Morning Drive,” which inspired the Rush song “Red Barchetta” on Moving Pictures, and the Fritz Leiber tale “Roll the Bones,” which inspired Rush’s song and album of the same title.

To say that I am excited to be part of this project, and to have my work alongside that of such an accomplished lineup of fellow authors and Rush fans, would be a massive understatement. I’ve just turned in my short story, “Mulligan,” to Kevin, and I am very pleased with how it has turned out.

No specific publication date has been set yet, but Kevin says we should expect to see it about a year from now.

 

 

 

The Fountain of Clockwork Angels

Those who know me are aware that I’m a huge fan of the Canadian progressive-rock power trio Rush. I have been a fan of the band for over 30 years, I’ve attended shows during each of their concert tours since 1982, and I own their complete studio and live-recording catalog.

If you’re familiar with the band’s oeuvre and history, you’ll understand that it’s no small thing when I say that I even love their much-maligned third album, Caress of Steel (1975), and its B-side concept track, “The Fountain of Lamneth.” Not as much as some of their other albums, but I still consider it vintage Rush.

Like many other of the Holy Triumvirate’s faithful legions, I bought their latest studio release, a 65-minute concept album titled Clockwork Angels (2012). And I love it. It’s powerful, personal, and truly epic.

Clockwork Angels also felt incredibly familiar to me, and as soon as I’d finished my first full listen of the album on June 12, I knew why: it’s the same basic story as “The Fountain of Lamneth.”

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O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

I just received an e-mail from Neil Peart of RUSH thanking me for the inscribed and autographed copies of A Time to Kill and A Time to Heal that I gave to him (via Geddy and Alex) on the band’s Snakes & Arrows tour back in July.

You think the Pacific Ocean is wide? You should see my grin right now.

Naturally, I’m trying to think of what brief message I might write back, without gushing like a twit. This will be a matter that requires serious consideration. Until then, I will continue grinning. (Not that I could stop right now, even if I wished to.)