Ed was, like me, a short story writer. He had another thirteen years on me, plus he wrote science-fiction, and the late 70s markets for sci-fi were very good. He started up a writers group that grew so much that when I read at The Little Bookshop of Horrors In Arvada back in 1992, there were so many writers in the crowd that I felt as if I was at a convention. My novel, The Holy Terror, had just come out, but I was there to promote my novella For You, The Living. It was published by Roadkill Press, the back cover had an image of Ed himself being the roadkill, tire tracks over his torso.
I loved him for being who he was. He wrote columns for LOCUS, a science-fiction magazine, and would go out of his way to mention my books or chapbooks, including Pain Grin and True Tales of The Scarlet Sponge. One of the wonderful things about my life as a writer is that I've been able to meet so many wonderful writers and artists along the way. I'll catch up with you soon, Ed.
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