How do you say goodbye to a friend?
When I last saw Gale, just two days before she unexpectedly passed away, it was at the Wimberley Library where our group, Austin Mystery Writers, had given a program on writing short stories. The program went well, and we went out to lunch afterwards, enjoying the beauty of a Hill Country restaurant and the company of friends.
When I said “goodbye,” I meant “until next time,” not realizing that there would be no next time.
I don’t offer this to be dramatic, only to articulate the fact that I’m still trying to sort out the reality that we won’t share company again, that I won’t get to hear about her projects, her short stories, her weekend plans. Gale had an energy that was unique–pointed and direct but also funny and sarcastic in a way that I mean as high compliment. She loved storytelling and storytellers, and occupying those spaces where storytellers gathered. A self-proclaimed workshop junkie, she was the first to volunteer to coordinate an event. Her energy was infectious, and even when she nagged you about a deadline, you loved her for it.
My inbox still has emails from her. I can’t make myself delete them. I’m sure it’s some form of denial at work, but I’m okay with that. Maybe I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet.
Austin Mystery Writers won’t be the same without Gale’s energy and attention to detail. We have an empty chair at our table now, and we will, at some point, figure out how to move forward with our projects without her. But it will be different, unsettled.
Still, I can hear her in my ear saying, “Laura, just get on with it.”
We will miss you, Gale.
Gale Albright leaves such a big hole in the writing community. She was not only president of the Austin SinC chapter, Heart of Texas, she was coordinating the second Austin Mystery Writers anthology and, when she died, was in the process of leading a NaNoWriMo group at her local Hutto library. She has recently done a bunch of promotion for the last AMW anthology, Murder on Wheels, and heaven only knows what else she was taking charge of and leading. She rose to the top, like cream. She was a true original, feisty and funny and so full of sparkle that I still can’t believe she’s gone.
I remember the day I met her. She and Kathy Waller wanted to join the AMW group. They both came to our meeting and read some of their writings. We were all blown away by how talented both of them were and we welcomed them into the group. Others fell away and moved away and they’ve been core members, both of them, since that day. Gale leaves so many gaping holes. I’ll miss her so much for a long, long time.
What can I say about Gale Albright?
Before I had met her in person, at my first meeting for Austin Mystery Writers, I had to critique a story she wrote. I laughed and guffawed and knew I had to amp up “my game” as a writer to keep up with her and the others in the group. I was eager to meet her the next day. Who was this crazy woman?
Over the next couple of years I had the privilege to know her. From her disregard of authority to her love of noir, she had me laughing everyday. I came to know that when she got a certain gleam in her eye, it meant the wheels in her head were turning and we would probably be doing a workshop or another anthology! She always thought big.
I can hear her now, “Hey, let’s take it step further and do a writers’ convention!”
“Whoa, Gale, slow down.”
I loved her energy and excitement. And no one can write a mash-up of noir fairytales like she could.
I miss you, Gale. Thank you for all you gave us. You were one cool customer. The best kind of dame there is.
When I think of Gale I remember her great sense of humor and lovable personality. Her short stories were so crazy and funny and clever, and I’m glad two of them were published in Murder on Wheels and another in the AMW upcoming anthology. I loved her middle grade novel, Eva, too– that was my favorite, and I wish more people could read it. Gale was still polishing it last I heard, but it was already great. She will be missed.