I met Audrey at Piper's Frith Writing Retreat. We were in the same group, the fiction group and Audrey could write. She could write wrote horror in a spine chilling style to challenge Stephen King. Her style was unique and refreshing and her spirit brimmed with life. I remember one night, after the evening readings, she and my cabin mate went back to our cabin and stayed up talking and drinking… wine maybe, until 2 in the morning; swapping life stories and birthing a friendship. That night we each gained those glimpses into each other's lives in ways that are only possible in the insane hours of the night when all inhibitions are waved aside, conversation moves from one thing to another, and a kinship is recognized.
I will never forget the absolutely impish, almost frightening sadistic grin which sprung across her face when she was in the thick of eagerly telling one of her chilling stories (which she began by describing the impish evil grin she would get when composing her best pieces).
Audrey always had so many ideas and plans and things on the go and was totally alive when writing. And I will always miss not being able to share in those things with her, hear her excitement, or see her face in any way but through the expressions etched in my memory from our time together. I am grateful for the small time I got to spend with her and I hope my life brightened her as much as knowing her brightened mine.
|Looking through the window onto Piper's Frith (just outside of Swift Current Newfoundland).|