When I was still at school, taking my O-levels, I was really keen on science fiction. For many years, I had been reading the likes of Larry Niven, Joe Haldeman, Frank Herbert, Isaac Asimov… plus, of course, Arthur C. Clarke, who was born just across the Bristol Channel (more correctly, Y Môr Hafren) from me. I still remember reading in one of his memoirs that, as a child, he looked with fascination across the sea at the dark hills of Wales, and realising that he meant the hills where I lived.

I was fascinated by Deep Space, space travel, and the concept of exploring the void.  At that time, I was starting to think about A-levels and, beyond that, university. From my reading of university prospectuses, I thought that Astrophysics would be a good area to study. However… I had no idea where would be a good place to study.

So, in my youthful naivety, I wrote a letter to Arthur C. Clarke, care of his publishers, to ask for his advice.

Some months later, a dog-eared air-mail envelope arrived, with some advice, hand-written.

I wouldn’t say that I didn’t follow it; it’s just that by the time his letter arrived, my life had already forked onto another path. Still, I won’t forget that the already eminent writer took the time and trouble to write back to an obscure Welsh schoolboy. I wish I’d had the opportunity to meet him and thank him in person.

RIP, Arthur C. Clarke.