- Joined
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Writer Donnie Marsh has passed away from what is thought to have been an accidental drug overdose following his recent heart surgery. He was 36 years old and lived in Lakewood, Ohio.
I met Donnie on AW shortly after I published my memoir--he was working on his memoir also and started hanging out here. He was brash, funny, and bitchy during his short stay. He quickly ruffled a few feathers (or had his feathers ruffled) and left. We kept in touch, though, on Facebook. Sometimes I’d find myself cringing or rolling my eyes at his posts which often seemed to be provocative for the sake of being provocative. He often reminded me of a little boy looking for attention. But he was funny and supportive of me as a writer. He made me laugh and had many online friends. He was a big--no, huge--Tori Amos fan and was an active member of her fan community.
His memoir remains unpublished. During the short time we were friends, its publication date kept getting pushed back, for reasons unknown to me, although he was interviewed by several local NPR stations. I did get a glimpse of his writing in an essay he wrote about remembrances of Thanksgivings past with his beloved mother Eve. Poignant and beautiful, he took the reader on a journey back to his childhood. I tried to find Eve online to link to it, but it seems that his website has been taken down, unfortunately.
So much potential unrealized. I know Donnie had demons, but don’t we all? He was a little broken, and so am I.
I’m sorry that he wasn’t able to see his memoir in print, his dreams fulfilled. He burned brightly, and I will miss him.
Rest in peace, Donnie. You've left us much too soon.
I met Donnie on AW shortly after I published my memoir--he was working on his memoir also and started hanging out here. He was brash, funny, and bitchy during his short stay. He quickly ruffled a few feathers (or had his feathers ruffled) and left. We kept in touch, though, on Facebook. Sometimes I’d find myself cringing or rolling my eyes at his posts which often seemed to be provocative for the sake of being provocative. He often reminded me of a little boy looking for attention. But he was funny and supportive of me as a writer. He made me laugh and had many online friends. He was a big--no, huge--Tori Amos fan and was an active member of her fan community.
His memoir remains unpublished. During the short time we were friends, its publication date kept getting pushed back, for reasons unknown to me, although he was interviewed by several local NPR stations. I did get a glimpse of his writing in an essay he wrote about remembrances of Thanksgivings past with his beloved mother Eve. Poignant and beautiful, he took the reader on a journey back to his childhood. I tried to find Eve online to link to it, but it seems that his website has been taken down, unfortunately.
So much potential unrealized. I know Donnie had demons, but don’t we all? He was a little broken, and so am I.
I’m sorry that he wasn’t able to see his memoir in print, his dreams fulfilled. He burned brightly, and I will miss him.
Rest in peace, Donnie. You've left us much too soon.