In Laymon's Terms

Troy Taylor

HERE ARE THREE moments in my life that I will never forget. One is reading my first Laymon book. Another was finishing my first novel. The third was finding a little message board hidden in the deep dark (bloody) corners of the Internet where Dick actually posted. I watched for a little and then I left a post. I remember coming home one day and finding a response from him. I was gob smacked. In his reply he laughed and joked and he spoke (or wrote) to me as if I was his best friend. He was just that kind of guy. Anyone who has ever spoken with him will agree with me. Not only was he a fantastic writer but he was a fantastic human being. We didn’t know each other personally; we never spoke on the phone; we never met each other, but for some reason I felt like we were pals from way back.

The news of his death hit me like a brick wall. I cried for hours and I’ve never really stopped being sad about it, even when I think about it now.

I don’t think I ever really got around to telling him, but he was the one and only inspiration for my writing. I wish I had.

If there hadn’t been a Dick Laymon, then this story wouldn’t have existed.

Without his books I never would have started writing.

Dick, you died too soon. I miss chatting with you on the message board. I miss your friendliness and your great sense of humor. Most of all though, I miss just knowing that you’re out there.