I was saddened to learn this evening of the death of Lister Matheson, whom I’d met in 1999 due to his role as director of the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers’ Workshop when I was invited to be Guest Editor that summer. He died on January 19 of complications arising from a form of aplastic anemia. I remember him as warm, witty, and generating an aura of amusement at life and all its pleasures.

An online obituary described him thusly:

Lister was a natural host whose large heart, expansive soul, and mischievous sense of the silly and ridiculous endeared him to those who knew him and made strangers feel immediately welcome and appreciated. He was a gifted raconteur, actor, reader of poetry, singer of inspired and inane songs, and connoisseur of haggis and single malt Scotch. He lived a full life, travelled widely, and absorbed everything. He cherished his family and friends and was always the animating spirit around any crowded table, sharing good food, drink, and lively conversation. His family and a very large crowd of admiring friends shall miss him terribly.

Yes, I thought, reading that. Yes.

But time has a way of getting away from us, and I regret to say that the last time I saw Lister in the flesh was probably at the 2003 Worldcon in Toronto, where I snapped this photo of him with Amelia Beamer as we chatted in the hallway outside some riotous party.

Remember the line from Auntie Mame that “Life is a banquet and most poor bastards are starving to death”? Lister knew that. Oh, yes he did.

He will be missed.