A Man Named Jimmy

This is a story I've added to other places online.  But for anyone who hasn't read it, this is a tale of friendship and inspiration and the writing of a book:

Jimmy was one of the first people I met in New York. He loved all things theater; he loved meeting new people; he loved hearing stories, and telling stories; he loved to laugh. He had been a dancer, actor, director, and admired others who do those well. I adored him instantly. His body was confined to a wheelchair, due to a stroke, but nothing else about him could be described as confined.

Being a playwright, I hatched a plan to write something he could act; surely he just needed the right part. I tried to find a good idea for a play, but I couldn’t come up with any. Then I thought about a screenplay. I was sure I could find room in a movie for all kinds of characters. And I did. Something I knew he could play. I could see his face and hear his voice when I wrote “his” dialogue. I even named him after a character in Jimmy’s favorite musical: Stephen Sondheim’s Follies. I wrote on it for about two and a half years. Along the way, I lost touch with him, as sometimes happens in life, but I kept to my writing, waiting to surprise him with my “gift”. Even if the movie never made it past the writing stage, he would know that there was a juicy part in the world, and I had written it for him. I finally finished it, and went about looking to reconnect. To my utter sadness, he had died while I was working on it. He fell asleep and never woke up. I put the screenplay away, hurting too much to polish it.

Then I had an idea. I could use the basic outline, and some of the characters, and write a novel. The character would be there as my testament to him. I worked for three and a half years, and Irish Guilt is the result. Whenever I wrote about “Jimmy’s” character, I again thought of his face and his voice, and I think the dialogue for him is stronger because of it. He’s one of my favorites in the book! I like to think that as long as this book is around, Jimmy is still around, too. The words on the dedication page will read, “In memory of Jimmy Rilley, my friend.” Because I am proud to say he was.