Kudos to Rhianna Pratchett. From the Guardian:
Terry Pratchett’s daughter Rhianna has brought down the curtain on her father’s Discworld novels, declaring that she will not write any more herself, nor give anyone else permission to do so. The comic novels set in a world balanced on the backs of four elephants standing on a giant turtle are “sacred to dad”, she said.
The author, videogame and comics writer told a fan last week that her late father’s forthcoming novel, The Shepherd’s Crown, featuring teenage witch Tiffany Aching, would be the final Discworld book. And asked by a fan if she would be continuing the series herself, she ruled out the possibility.
“No. I’ll work on adaptations, spin-offs, maybe tie-ins, but the books are sacred to dad,” she wrote on Twitter. “That’s it. Discworld is his legacy. I shall make my own.”…
I bow to very few people in my love & respect for the late Sir Terry and his universe, but he gave us no fewer than forty Discworld books to enjoy. People have been trying and mostly failing to “supplement” the Sherlock Holmes canon for more than a century — the post-millenial attempts have frankly been successful because they’re not just pastiches. I’ve been able to happily re-read Jane Austen’s mere half-dozen novels a minimum of once a year for the last forty-plus years, so I think the extant Discworld catalog should be more than enough for our immediate literary needs.