Today we lost one of my favorite people in the world. My friend Joe Pulver is gone.
As writer and editor, he was known as Joseph S. Pulver Sr. On Facebook, he was nicknamed The bEast, an appellation he loved, and often used himself. I just thought of him as Joe.
He was among the funniest, smartest, craziest and most generous people I’ve ever known, and possessed of a piercing talent. We’d been good friends online for several years before we finally had a chance to meet in person, when he visited Portland to be a guest at the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival, and stayed with us for something like a week.
Soon I hope to assemble my thoughts and memories into some kind of memorial to Joe, but I didn’t want to let the day pass without saying something. I have so many fond memories, so many stories I’d like to tell. He was important to me as an editor and a supporter of my work, and I admired his writing as well, but it’s the friendship I’ll miss. It’s the manic enthusiasm, and truly unique way his spirit expressed itself.
For now, I’ll link back to my original series of convention reports after that 2013 H.P. Lovecraft Film Fest, which covers events from preparing to pick up Joe at the airport, to our first meeting, then going through the long convention weekend, and finally taking him to the beach at Lincoln City, OR.
There are lots of pictures along with my narrative, so it’s quite a lengthy and emotional trip (in five parts) going through these.
As I mentioned, I hope to have something more to say soon. At the very least, I’d like to tell people how encouraging Joe was of newer, emerging writers, not only myself. He pushed to discover new talent, to bring together kindred spirits, and to assemble interesting writing in ways that would be compelling to all kinds of readers.
In recent days, as people came to realize Joe would be gone soon, some of us expressed our appreciation of Joe. Many writers told how much they appreciated Joe’s support of their writing, often before anybody else really knew about it. That was Joe, that enthusiasm and fearlessness, and absolute certainty when faced with words that spoke to him. I will miss the writer and editor very much, but more than that, I’ll miss my friend.