A friend of mine in my writing group recently passed away. Although we never met face to face, I considered Tom Stewart a friend and a comrade in arms, and his death came as a shock. Writing is more than a story. It's a battle, a challenge to not only write The Story but to make it comprehensible to a multitude of people.
I'll never forget when I first joined the Well. He was a submitting maniac with his novel, but Tom was always kind, a hard worker, and a helluva writer. He was also generous with his time and gave as good as he got. Although I will now sadly never get to meet him, I know that part of his writing passion lives on in me and others he's helped along the way, and I hope he knows that, even though he's gone.
Part of me still can't believe he's gone. I'm waiting to hear his latest thoughts as he finishes fine-tuning the novel and looking for a publicist. But as time goes on and the emails never come, I'm sure it'll hit home one day harder than I expect.
Rest in Peace, Tom. And Godspeed.