Mr. Rickman

Tears dropped onto my desk at work today. I, like much of the world, received horrible news. Actor and wonderful man, Alan Rickman, passed away.

This is not to be a happy one, dear readers. This writer is quite devastated by this news. Though I only met him once on the streets of New York city, Mr. Rickman was like a very dear friend. From the moment I first saw Galaxy Quest in 1998 as an eight year old kid, I knew that this actor was something special. The more I learned about him, the more he proved that.

As a writer, I occasionally base characters off of actors, for appearance or characteristic. Because Mr. Rickman was so good at becoming whatever character the screen required, he was an easy one for me to derive inspiration. Being that I've been writing for thirteen years, he was a familiar figure, to say the least, in my head and very much so in my writing. Made a list of how many characters in my books I would have liked him to portray on screen - seven. Seven separate stories that I have had with him in my heart for thirteen years. I consider each one of my characters as my children or dear friends. I know every one of their histories, their stories, their personalities. I know that it is merely fantasy and I know that my grief is silly, but it feels like all of those characters and Alan Rickman have died. It is not going to be easy to pick up the pen for a while without tears staining the pages.

My sincerest condolences to Rima - his lifelong love, and to his family, his friends. I cannot begin to imagine the grief that they are feeling.

I am sorry too my dear readers that this is not much of escape for you. Just needed one myself today.

Life is strange. One moment, you are riding high in a cloud of happiness and everything is right. The next minute, your face is in the gravel and digging in. It's in those times that we must cling close to the memories of goodness and of light. Those images may fade at times, but it's in our moments that we are down that we learn to appreciate the little things and the memories of what is right.

Your grieving author,
S. Faxon