If You're Shopping for Gifts that Don't Need Shipping for a Writer

I heard the news about David Hartwell’s accident last night; it makes me inexpressibly sad to see one of the people who have shaped the speculative fiction landscape for so long pass. Others will tell you of all his wonderful accomplishments; I want to celebrate his life by recounting a few moments of it that I was privileged enough to share.

I first met David at the Locus Awards in 2006. I was incredibly nervous and introduced him to someone else as “David Hartman,” an error I would perpetuate for several conventions because I’d be so nervous about doing it again that I inevitably would. He was gracious about it every time.

He had an exhaustive knowledge of not just speculative fiction, but popular media in general. Connie Willis sent me to him at some point when I was researching screwball comedies, and we had a wonderful half hour session in the bar with me frantically scribbling titles down on napkins. He was always a pleasure to talk with, and full of interesting nuggets of information.

His dress style was inimitable; I wish more of our editors followed his example. I’m going to miss glancing over a convention crowd and being able to instantly spot him. He was one of the things I could count on at certain conventions.

January has brought some sad passings, including Bowie and Rickman. It breaks my heart to see David added to that list. He was definitely one of the influencers, and the publishing world will be changed by his passing.

Update: Locus says the obit was released prematurely. Keep an eye there for updates.

Today was a mournful day. Every morning I go grab coffee at a local coffee shop called Jitters, which has been around Redmond much longer than I have: 22 years to my 14. But now they’ve had to close their location (a repurposed bank building) and haven’t been able to find a new place.

They’re celebrating their last day in style: balloons, a big card for everyone to sign, and free coffee all day long, but there is a sad undertone to the merriment. We’d gone through the drivethrough, then came in to sign the card and say goodbye. Last week, I’d made sure to sign up for the mailing list, to be notified if they find a new location, but so far the manager hasn’t seemed very hopeful about that.

As we were coming towards the door, a gentleman was coming out. We nodded at each other and he paused. Both of us felt, I think, a need to mark the occasion, to acknowledge the Jitters bond. “Sad day,” he said. “Very sad,” I replied. Inside all the baristas were glammed out and a little shell-shocked, I think, that this day had come.

Meanwhile, I’ve bought a lovely Chemex in order to make coffee at home after reading a recent Chuck Wendig post about it. I fear that I finally have fallen into the Seattle trap and become a coffee snob. I even have some Tonx coffee coming, since they are willing to give you a free sample. And there’s a pleasing ritual to it, the dousing of the filter in hot water, then using that water to warm the mug. Wayne got me an electric kettle for Christmas after watching the two saucepan version of that dance, and it rocks.

Still, I will sorely miss Wendy and Megan and Amanda and all the rest of the cheerful Jitters crew.