For me, it's like driving by a graveyard. A jolt of mortality, then the re-invigoration of desire and purpose.
I read the names one by one and tried to visualize... tried to imagine what their lives were like, or in some cases, actually remember them.
Gone now, all, but not yet forgotten.
I saw these posts today on a mystery-related listserv: All under the subject, Series I Miss:
Troy Soos isn't doing any more of his Mickey Rawlings Baseball Mysteries.
I miss Dorothy Simpson's Luke Thanet series. I understand why she isn't writing, but I liked Thanet, and his family life.
I miss Les Roberts' Milan Jacovich series. I liked the character, and, as a former resident of northern Ohio, and graduate of Kent State, I was familiar with all of the locations.
One I truly miss is the Tory Bauer series by Kathleen Taylor.
Linda Barnes - Michael Spraggue series. I liked the character and his relationship to his grandmother. I felt the series was just getting really interesting when it stopped.
Dan Burton - He wrote a series of three books where the protagonist was a stand-up comic.
Wendy Hornsby - I'd love to see both the Maggie McGowen and the Roger Tajada series return.
Dennis Lehane - I loved the Patrick and Angie series.
A.E. Maxwell - The Fiddler and Fiora books
Don Wilcox - The Neal Carey books are still some of the best.
Oh, my. All these characters dead and gone. It's a tragedy, but one we've already spoken about at length. Too many books. The competition for mystery readers and their purchasing dollars. Publishing is a business. Yak, yak, yak. Doesn't anybody care about these poor characters? Did the authors hold a wake? The character laid out in a little coffin?
No one is promised tomorrow. The time to rally, the time to fight back against the grinding machine that is life, is now, people. Today. Tonight. This very minute!
I think I need a shot of tequila.