I didn’t think I would write about this, but as I’ve previously stated, sometimes, when feelings engulf me, I need to “write through it.” On Monday, Gary Urda, SVP of Sales at Simon & Schuster, passed away suddenly at 59. I want to tell you about Gary because he was special to many of us in the industry.
When I joined Atria Books as VP of Publicity in 2006, Gary was the Associate Publisher of the imprint. We instantly bonded, and a friendship was born. I considered him my “office husband” during my tenure at Atria: he lent an ear when I needed one, made sure I was okay during difficult moments with our then-boss, was protective of me when I was pregnant with my daughter, and enjoyed stories we’d trade about our kids. He was empathetic and warm, had the best laugh, and gave tremendous hugs. I got to reconnect with Gary when I became Publicity Director of Skyhorse Publishing in 2019, and I saw him again before the pandemic for one of those famous hugs.
Gary was beloved by many people in the industry because of his sparkling personality and his deep knowledge of book publishing. I never had to explain publicity to him—he knew how it worked. He had a way about him that made everyone in his presence feel welcome. He will be missed.
What upsets me the most about his passing is that a few days before he left us, I thought about sending him a note to say hello and see how he was doing. As with many things, I got busy and put it off. I will always regret that decision. I should have sent the note.
Book publishing is complex and sometimes challenging, but I have also forged my closest friendships within the industry. While it’s true that work is not life, it is also true that your work friends can become part of your life. I’ve been to weddings, birthday parties, dinners, and more to celebrate friends I made while working in the industry. These are the people with whom we spend our days. They know about our families, tragedies, and milestones. Sometimes, we grow up together, from 20-something assistants to whatever career path we choose later in life. I have reinvented myself more than I admit, but my publishing friends have supported me endlessly. For that, I am forever grateful.
So, this is your reminder to check in with your friends and send that email, text, or instant message. You won’t regret it.
-Kathleen
END NOTES:
The book that’s getting me through right now is Sandwich by Catherine Newman. I absolutely love it. You will love it if you are a 50-something with older kids. It’s funny and poignant in all the right places.
1000 years ago, in a former life, I managed the editorial and licensing department for a boutique social stationery company that published some of the most beautiful note cards. It was there that I developed a love affair with sending cards and notes (via USPS, no less!) to loved ones for no reason at all other than to remind them of our connection. I still do it to this day, although a bit less. At a recent cocktail party, another writer/friend told me that three or four years ago, they began sending postcards to connections. Sort of analog versions of Twitter! Knowing that there is no such thing as original thought anymore, I've started to do the same. Such Fun!
Send the note. Reach out to that friend when the thought strikes. You just never know. This is the perfect reminder. I’m sorry for the loss of your friend. Thank you for sharing your loving tribute to him.