I had some preparation for this, obviously. I knew the day would come. What I was not prepared for was the silence. In an interview I gave a few years ago on WICN with Mark Lynch, I talked about how I had no choice but to write. I never have. I don't consider it a duty or a chore; it's what I do as much as breathing, sleeping, or walking. Some of my writer friends call it a lonely life, others find it, well, everyone has a description. But, this, the silence of Los Angeles ... this I was not prepared for. I have always sought solace - in the desert, on beaches, hiking in the mountains, on remote hillsides in Wales. But I never considered the deafening silence Chester would leave behind. Awakened by the clock ticking in the middle of the night I wondered again just how long this silence will last.