Bad news from a nice guy

Bill Crider is a genial, even-tempered man, a retired school teacher and a long-time writer of imaginative and enjoyable speculative fiction. He is prolific author and a frequent convention guest. His short story "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" is a finalist for this year's Sidewise Award in alternate history.

If you have ever met him or know him, you know he is always friendly, helpful, and approachable.

Like so many other of his friends, I was dismayed earlier in the week that he reported he had a potentially serious health problem. He posted on his blog Tuesday that his doctor ordered him to go to the hospital immediately because he thought he might be having kidney failure.

He posted Wednesday "Not kidneys. Very likely lymphoma. Biopsy tomorrow."

Bill is one of the few people of whom anyone can say "He's a nice guy" and not be suspected of the slightest sarcasm. Like so many other people today, he is in my thoughts and prayers. I hope he pulls through this health alert with his flags flying and his usual friendly grin.

Judy Crider, RIP

Everyone I know in Texas spec fic circles are saddened by the death of Judy Crider on Thanksgiving Day. Judy was a gentle, polite, refined and courteous person, and a perfect mate for husband Bill. She battled non-Hodgkin Lymphoma with courage and without complaint for eight years. She was certainly one of the nicest people I met as result of my involvement in fiction writing.
I called Bill on the phone yesterday and offered my condolences. There really isn't anything to say in a situation like that except "be strong". Bill is a nice guy and a true gentleman, possessed of the same equanimity as Judy did. I know he will be OK; I also know it will always hurt.
Scott Cupp has circulated Judy's obituary, which I reprint here:
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Judy Stutts Crider was born in Marlin, Texas, on November 5, 1943, the only child of Pet and Eldred Stutts of Thornton. She departed this life on November 27, 2014. Judy grew up in Thornton, Texas, and was salutatorian of her high school graduating class. She attended Baylor University and graduated in 1965 with a BBA in economics. Two weeks after her graduation, she married Bill Crider of Mexia. She worked as a secretary while Bill went to graduate school, first in Denton and then in Austin. Their daughter, Angela, and their son, Allen, were both born in Austin. They were truly the pride and joy of Judy’s life from the moment they entered it, and it is no exaggeration to say that she loved them even before they were born.
While living in Brownwood, Texas, where Bill was teaching at Howard Payne University, Judy learned to play the game of bridge, and it remained her favorite recreation from that time forward. She loved playing bridge with her friends in Brownwood and with her bridge groups in Alvin after the family moved there. She also enjoyed TV game shows and was a whiz at “Jeopardy” and “Wheel of Fortune.”
Judy was a full partner in Bill’s writing career. She was the first reader and editor of every book and story he wrote and was the business manager for the entire enterprise. She was his co-author on several stories, and one of them won the Anthony Award for best short story in 2002.
Judy is survived by Bill, her husband of 49 years; by her children, Angela Neary of Sonoma, California, and Allen Crider of Austin, Texas; by a number of cousins; and by a host of friends.
Her family would like to thank the doctors, staff, and volunteers at M.D. Anderson Cancer center for their professionalism and kindness during the years of Judy’s treatment. They made a terrifying experience easier to bear. According to her wishes, her body will be cremated. In lieu of flowers, a donation to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society would be appropriate. A memorial service will be announced at a later time.
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If you would like to drop Bill a card, his address is 1606 S. Hill St., Alvin, Tx 77511.

More on "The Stinky Men"

A rare sight

Got an email from Bill Crider yesterday. He writes:

"I read "The Stinky Men" yesterday and got a kick out of it. Anybody who can write a story in a con dealers' room has my admiration, especially a story that mentions alligators and Dr Pepper. Thanks for sending it along."

 This is the story I wrote in the dealers' room at ArmadilloCon in 2011, using my Smith Corona Classic 12 portable typewriter.

 Bill at the time wrote: "We're back from Armadillocon, where we had a great time and saw a lot of friends. We also saw a rare sight, a science-fiction author banging out a short story in the dealers' room. On a typewriter. That's Lou Antonelli clicking the keys of his Smith-Corona, and he's composing a story titled "The Stinky Men." It if turns up somewhere, I'll let you know."