Thomas M. Disch killed himself this past weekend. Way back in my NYU days, I took a science fiction course, and Disch was a guest speaker. Samuel L. Delaney was another. Disch wrote Camp Concentration, which was one of the books we studied in that college course, and I liked it quite a bit. Oddly enough, he also wrote The Brave Little Toaster. Horror novels and volumes of poetry, too. I remember he was pretty gruff and off-putting in his presentation to the class, and he certainly didn't inspire me to become a science fiction writer. That came a lot later. But he was a good writer whose work I enjoyed, and one of the first writers I've met in person. It's all grist for the mill, so I owe him a debt of gratitude.

Farewell, Mr. Disch.