Fall is finally here in Northern California. Officially, it arrived a little over three weeks ago, but we had temperatures into the hundreds until early last week. Now at last, the days are milder and the Delta Breeze brings us cool air in the evenings. There’s that indefinable sense of change in the air, when the leaves slowly start to yellow, the days grow noticeably shorter, and many of our favorite television shows return, creating a train wreck in our streaming apps.
The seasons of life are slowly changing too. Mark and I just said goodbye to two dear friends, as their own seasons wound to an end.
One of them was my first publisher, a strict but fair man named Kiran Rana who ran a small press called Hunter House Publishing from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. I met Kiran through his partner (later wife), my eleventh-grade English and History teacher, Jeanne Brondino.
During our junior year, Ms. Brondino asked us to write a series of essays about teens and parents. I wanted to be a published author even then. In one of those strange twists of fate, it turned out that Hunter House was publishing a series of self-help books for teens, and thought our essays might make for a good next book.
She called for volunteers from among our classmates to work on the project, and in 1988, Raising Each Other was released.
Fun fact, it’s still for sale on Amazon. No idea where the royalties, if any, are going now – probably lining Jeff Bezos’ pockets.
Kiran and I had a contentious relationship, at times. I worked for Hunter House from 1988-1994, and as my boss, he could be a harsh taskmaster. But he was a good man at heart, and because of him, I had my first publication.
Kiran passed away peacefully a few weeks ago, in the home he and Jeanne shared in Alameda, California.
We also met our other recently deceased friend, Sharon Logan, through a spouse. Mark and I joined a local, queer friendly church in 2016, and soon became a part of a men’s group that met once a week. Alan was the group leader, and after a couple months, he invited Mark to become his co-lead.
One weekend, we decided to get together with Alan and his wife Sharon for dinner and a movie at the Tower Theater. Sharon was a bright light – sweet, bubbly, and with a nack for seeing what others needed and helping them get it.
Before long, the four of us became good friends. We loved spending time with them, and were looking forward to making decades of memories together.
Then in 2022, Alan was diagnosed with cancer, and by January of 2024 had succumbed to it, leaving Sharon alone. She had her own bout, fighting breast cancer at the same time Alan was sick. But she beat it, and things were looking good for her. She retired from her lifelong avocation as an occupational therapist, and started planning for the rest of her life. We held her hand while she cried, and tried to help her imagine a new life without Alan.
Then her cancer returned in June, and by late September she was gone too.
Life, like the years, comes with its own seasons. I can feel the chill of early autumn in my own, as I seek to reinvent myself once again, searching for the work that will probably define the last decade of my working years.
For some, like our friend Sharon who was only 62 when she passed away, the snows of winter come far too soon.
In the past couple of years, we have lost too many other beautiful souls:
Alan Logan, Sharon’s husband and a wonderful, spiritual man.
Jamie Fessenden, my Russian-speaking Viking loving writer friend and co-author in the A More Perfect Union anthology.
Jaime Lee Moyer, a gifted writer and developmental editor who freely offered her services to make my books better.
Keith Lane, co-host of the Gay Geeks podcast with his husband, who sought me out to tell me how much he loved my books.
Paula Wyant, a gifted writer who was a regular in our Queer Sci Fi flash fiction contest.
Rekka James, a SFWA Indie Author Committee member who wrote beautiful queer sci-fantasy, and whom I respected greatly.
And Sherrie Cronin, another talented writer who was my right hand on the SFWA Indie Authors Committee.
There were others before – Mark’s father Joe, his mother Helen, Grandma Hazel, Grandma Joyce, Grandpa John, Grandpa Pete, Shanelle, Shelley, and there will surely be many more to come.
I love our annual autumns, when things cools off and slow down as the year advances toward winter. I’m not so thrilled with the autumn of life. Still, the world turns and things change, loved ones leave us, and we seek comfort in those who remain and try to find a way to carry on.
I didn’t want to let another season pass without saying this, or even another day.
To my friends, family, and readers, all of you who still brighten my day whenever you pop into my life – I love you.