RIP, Les

     I've lost quite a few author friends over the years and, as is the case, some hurt more than others. There was Bette Lamb, then, just a couple of months later, her husband JJ. There was Amanda Kyle Williams, whose work I'd just discovered during her final illness. But just today, I heard of the death of Les Edgerton.

      Les was one of the first authors to whom I'd sent a friend request when I got back on Facebook on my original account back in January 2017. I'd made friends with writers in the dim past, going back to when I was on Compuserve in the early 90s then AOL before getting on the "real" internet.

      Les's sudden passing a day or two ago leaves an especially big hole in my life, especially as I'd lost another dear friend this past February. And the reason why this leaves such a huge hole in my life is because of Les' unstinting generosity with his time, knowledge and savvy in the business of writing and the business side of it. He and I connected immediately once we mutually recognized we were the real deal and were fellow travelers.

      Back then, I was still on the literary agent hamster wheel and Les tirelessly tried to get me hooked up with an agent, to no avail. But his ceaseless efforts and friendship that he'd unconditionally extended to me stayed with me regardless of the efficacy of his efforts.

      Les was at Killer Nashville just a couple of weeks ago on a panel on how to create believable villains and was posting on Facebook up until around that time without a care in the world. Les' passing just proves you cannot take anything for granted in this life.

      I cannot imagine how his wife Mary Edgerton will cope, as she has a bigger hole in her life than any of us can claim. But she can take heart in the fact that her husband Les was one of the kindest, nicest souls this industry had ever seen. Our lives will forever be the poorer in light of his passing. RIP, Les. You will truly be missed.