I will never stop.

Today marks the four-year anniversary of the day I lost my best friend, Alan, to cancer.

July has been hard for me since he’s been gone. The long Fourth of July weekend has become less about day drinking and fireworks than it is a reminder of the day I spent getting drunk with a friend at the Seaport blissfully ignorant to the fact that Alan was on his death bed and I’d never see or speak to him again. During this month, the anger returns (why him?), the memories are more vivid, the sadness deeper.


There are people I can talk to freely about this—others who loved Alan, folks who have also lost someone they truly loved and “get” it, and people who simply love me and hurt when I hurt.

Still, there are others who probably don’t get it. People who change the subject each time I bring up his name, as if the fact that I still miss the man after four years means something is wrong with me. Maybe they think there is a timeline for grieving and I’ve surpassed it; that our friendship had its time and should be put to rest like he was.

I don’t think these people mean me any harm, but it’s something I simply cannot do. I will always remember Alan as someone who truly made my life better. I will recall the day he died as one of the worst days of my life. (THE worst so far, if I’m being honest.) I will forever wonder what he’d say/do/think about the things I say/do/think. I’ll never stop laughing when I think of an inside joke we shared. I’ll never stop thinking of him whenever the clock says 10:27 (his birthday).  I will forever include him in the acknowledgements of my books. I will keep changing my profile picture on his birthday and the anniversary of his death. I will cry every July 8th and October 27th and whenever I watch The Long Island Medium or the subject of Leukemia comes up. I will never EVER forget him, stop cherishing the role he had in my life, or cease finding reasons to mention him in conversation. It’s my way of keeping him alive.

If you don’t like it, my advice to you: get ear plugs.


Did you know that June 8th is National Best Friends Day?

My friends, especially my best friends, make me laugh, lend me an ear when I need to talk, accept me for who I am, trust me with their secrets, and generally make my world a better place to live. So, in honor of best friends everywhere, I have decided to host a giveaway.

Up for grabs is a free ecopy of Blogger Girl (mobi or epub file) for the first ten people to do the following:

1. Like my Facebook Author page:  https://www.facebook.com/MeredithSchorrAuthor (If you’re already a fan, great!)
2. Post a picture with your best friend on my Facebook Author page
3. Tag your best friend in the picture
4. Comment on my blog that you have done the above and include the email address where you want the book sent and the preferred format.

It’s that simple!! If you already own a copy of the book, I can send one to your BFF!

I will leave you with a short excerpt of Blogger Girl—a scene between my main character Kim and her BFF Bridget:

“Should I call him, Bridge?” While awaiting her response, I took a sip of my drink.
She took a gulp of hers and said, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
I pinched my bottom lip with my thumb and pointer finger. “You sure?”
“I’m positive. He brought it up twice!”
“Actually, he brought it up once,” I said, rubbing my ear. “I brought it up the second time, although he did respond with an enthusiastic, ‘definitely.’ Either way, it doesn’t mean he’s interested. What if he’s placed me squarely in the ‘friend’ zone and I’m making more of this than there is? What if he starts talking about Mary Jones, the beach bombshell? And even if he does make a move on me, meeting him after a high school reunion sounds a bit more ‘booty call’ than ‘date’ anyway.” I had a million more “what ifs” occupying my brain space.
Bridget took a drag of her cigarette. “I’m not even going to bother to respond to the ‘friend zone’ comment. No guy would ask a ‘friend’ to meet for drinks late on a Saturday night.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that would be kind of weird. But what about the other stuff?”
After putting out her cigarette, Bridget reached out and gently patted my leg. “First of all, if he was dating Mary Jones seriously, he probably would not be meeting another girl for drinks on a Saturday night. And second of all, meeting him for a drink doesn’t mean you have to sleep with him.”
I gave her a look. “Not sure I’d have the self-control to resist him!”
“I bet a bout of crabs would solve that problem,” Bridget laughed. “But seriously, you’re better off finding out what he’s after sooner than later. You need to know for sure so you can get on with it or move on.” Bridget paused. “Unless…”
I swallowed hard. “Unless what?” I asked as her buzzer rang.
Bridget stood up and walked into her foyer. Into the intercom on her wall, she said, “Yeah?” and released her finger.
“It’s Jonathan.”
“Come on up,” she said. Then she looked at me with an eyebrow raised. “Unless you’re planning to hook up with Jonathan.”

Me and my best friend for life at her wedding.

Me and my best friend for life at her wedding.


My friends supporting me and my books!

My friends supporting me and my books!