Fuck Cancer

Jay Lake has entered hospice care.

I was only able to meet Jay once in person on one of his last trips down to the Bay Area. He was coming down for SF in SF, a great event series put on up in the City (where I once was able to see my great friend Gail Carriger and Patrick Rothfuss do a reading and discuss the art of writing), and I asked him if he wanted to get dinner before the event or drinks after. Apparently, it’s an SF in SF tradition for the speakers to go out with the event planners to a Chinese restaurant near the venue for dinner and he invited me along. It was incredibly generous since he barely knew me from Adam, we’d only chatted back and forth on his LiveJournal and Facebook, and so I drove up to San Francisco, contended with a Chinese New Years Day Parade, and not only ended up meeting him but also K.W. Jeter and Rudy Rucker as well. It was a great night and I had a lot of fun, something I’ve always been happy to have experienced, all because of him.

Jay Lake has entered hospice care and every time I look at those words I feel sad and angry. Jay fought and he fought hard, surviving multiple bouts of treatment and remission. Cancer took my grandmother, my grandfather, Kage, and it’s going to take him too.

Fuck cancer.

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