Tom Murchison died last Saturday, January 7, 2012. He was a mentor of mine, incredibly well-read, and a gentle soul. He was a truly honest man; he exuded integrity. When I first began to write novels and screenplays, he was encouraging and enthusiastic, urging me on. When he finished reading my first published novel, he told me it was "riveting." I remember that conversation like it was yesterday. He was generous with his time--I wish I had shared more of it. Too late, now. He did leave a poem for his friends. I'm keeping it in a place that's handy. It's a long piece, but simple and enduring. Here's one stanza:
"Consider the lowly ant, which has in its vocabulary, no word for can't.
Does it contemplate like us? I doubt it. It is too busy, I suppose, being an ant."
Spend times with your friends. Do it now.
