Three weeks ago, I was enjoying GayRomLit, the retreat for readers and authors who love gay romance. Just a few days ago, we got the word that Ethan Day, one of the organizers, had died. I am sure that others have eulogized Ethan here, probably more eloquently than I can. We were friends in only a casual way, fellow authors and readers, with a common bond in our love of the genre and the books, and a desire for a world where gay love is just one of a myriad of equal and valued options.
Ethan’s death shocked us all – he was younger than me, vibrant, energetic, funny, and kind. He was an author whose works conveyed hope and joy and humor, a publisher who ran his imprint with care and integrity down to the way he closed it when it was over. His presence at GRL was a whirlwind of caring, running around focused on every detail to make the event go smoothly, while taking the time for jokes and hugs and greetings to all of us. My last interaction with him was when he blew a loud horn to cut me off in mid-joke during the 10-minute Author Medley— yes, I was actually in front of people trying to be funny. And then he gave me his patented Ethan smile, encouragement and shared humor because he knew that as an introvert I was more relieved than sad that my time on stage was over.
I missed his Sunday morning goodbye hugs. I’m so sorry about that. We always think there will be more time.
Losing Ethan has made us all take stock, I think. Not just to hug our friends more, and appreciate those who make our lives better, but to also say “What if that were me?” To think about what we’ve accomplished, what the books we’ve released mean to us, what our lives would look like, if it were suddenly over.
Ethan needed have no doubts— his writing, life, work, and friendships all reflect the man he was, and will remain as a tribute to him. He would have done much more, but his legacy is solid.
What if it were me? Well, I’d have to apologize to readers for uncompleted series. (Yes, I really am writing Tracefinder 3 and wolves and Family, and I am determined to dig into them more diligently.) It’s easy to get caught up in the books I haven’t written yet, the stories I still want to tell, the topics I haven’t tried my hand at. But I have released books I’m proud of. I’ve seen reviews and emails to show that my stories in their small ways impacted lives— entertainment on a dreary day, lifting someone through a rough moment, providing a mirror to help someone figure out where their own situation was going, changing a maybe or a why to a yes! on equal LGBTQ rights.
I belive our genre makes a difference, not just by entertaining, comforting, and bringing together readers, but in adding to the groundswell of changing attitudes that saw over 150 LGBTQ people elected to public offices in America a week ago. And looking at Ethan’s work reminds me that it’s not just the serious books— the ones delving into stress and pain and problems— but also the lighter ones that matter. My favorite of Ethan’s is still Sno Ho, sweet, funny, witty, poignant and loving, a book that reminds us that we are all human and all share so much in common, and we all matter.
And in this loss, we’re also reminded that the little things we do day to day count. It’s not about some culminating prize at the end of life that we’ll eventually reach, but about the things we do with every word we put down, and with each conversation, each hand held out to someone, each laugh shared. GRL won’t be the same without Ethan, but I have faith it will go on and be great and still bring us all together. Last month in Portsmouth, VA, was a huge recharge for me, as it is every year. It was a chance to be with people who share the same interests and passions and goals and jokes, spending time immersed in community. I came home fired up to write more. At the end of the day, with each new author who joins us and each dear friend lost, the community remains a place of hope. That’s what romance is. That’s what Ethan helped give us through all his work. So this week was a goodbye to a wonderful man, but also a reminder to cherish the future we’re all building together.
– Kaje Harper
November 2018
Thank you!
<3
Beautiful – thank you. I’ll miss all his books he’ll never have the chance to write. Self Preservation is my favorite of his work. It’s got his signature humor but also little bits of sadness.
I’ll have to read it, it’s been on my TBRs too long. I always liked that there was some poignancy and emotion in his humor – it isn’t pure slapstick but very human in its range.
I didn’t know Ethan, but his passing makes me think about mortality, the one thing we all have in common. Thanks for writing this. I feel like I know him more with each tribute.
Perfect. Love ya, pal. xoxo
Thanks you for this Kaje. I’m still struggling a lot with contemplating the world without Ethan in it. I hope he knew how much he meant to all of us – as a friend, and author, an advocate and a cheerleader. You are right – GRL will never be the same without him and his infectious energy, generosity, humor and love. We will always miss him, but his legacy speaks for itself. <3