In Memory

Today is a sad day. I lost one of my very best friends and have yet to find the words to express just how much he meant to me over the years, and will continue to mean to me so long as I live. The words will come, but until they do, a memory.

Adam acted in the first real play I ever had produced. He played Maxwell, a pompous, middle aged actor who preyed on the young ingenue by demanding her affections. Where I came up with such a character at the age of 14 is beyond me, but I'll never forget what he said after we read the script out loud on the floor of his bedroom. He said it was funny, but stupid. He was right. He said I should probably write about people our own age next time. He was right about that, too. He also said he'd be perfect for Maxwell. Right again.

A writer never forgets their first production. It was an exciting time, hearing my words come to life in front of an audience. And whenever I close my eyes to hear those words again, it's Adam's voice that I hear, loud and clear. He was there for my first play and has been there for every one that's followed.