I don’t know if anyone here remembers the time I spent railing against the deceptive and predatory practices of self-pub companies iUniverse and Author Solutions years ago, but it made me some pretty good friends along the way. One of them was Philip J Reed.

Phil reached out to me after I posted to Help A Reporter Out (HARO) for interviews with anyone willing to talk about their experience with self-publishing. He shared his story back when I was still Two Write Hands.

Over time, he revealed himself as kind of brilliant, full of humor, and very upfront about and aware of his mental health.

He and I discussed brain zaps as only two people who’d weaned from antidepressants could. He wrote some brilliantness for Boss Fight Books, and let me play a tiny roll in his success.

He posted my Facebook updates to my blog when I was in the hospital, newly diagnosed with brain cancer.

He ran online-only annual Xmas Bash events for charity that made me laugh until I cried. Streaming in the days before the pandemic, which I think also made him a visionary. Or maybe an avid gamer.

I’d lost touch with Phil for a while because of my own health problems, but I read something about Alf on social media, which made me think of him and the Alf review series I followed on Noiseless Chatter, which prompted me to look up his website, which taught me that he died in August 2022.

Jesus. Had it been that long? Time is meaningless in so many ways now.

I got the old grief lump in my chest and told Dan our friend was gone, because grieving isn’t something that I should do alone.

So nothing else to post today. I’m just going to be sad that I live in a world without Philip J. Reed.

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