Once upon a time, in the land of Manhattan, there lived a lovely editor named Kate Duffy. Kate was so amazing, so brilliant, that the gods finally relented and decreed that henceforth the sun would rise each morning in her honor. (“Took ‘em long enough,” Kate muttered.)
Kate’s inimitable presence enriched the lives of everyone she encountered. Crowds clamored to get closer; audiences hung on her every word. Lions even snuggled up with lambs. (“Get real,” Kate said.)
To state it simply: Life with Kate Duffy in it was Good. (“Agreed.”)
Then one day, last Monday, the sun didn’t rise. The land was gripped in a cold, dark sadness. (“Sounds cliched. You can do better.”)
* * *
Kate Duffy was my editor, mentor, friend. There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe her wonderfulness. I will forever hear her voice in my head when I write. I am a better storyteller for having worked with Kate; a better person for having known her. I am also incredibly selfish and wish like hell she hadn’t left so soon.
My thoughts and prayers go out to Kate’s family and those who were closest to her.