C.A. McJack

A Tribute to Terry:

In 2018, I didn’t know Terry Reddout (author Pen Name Aidan Red) from Adam. I had only met him once at a writer’s meeting at Panera bread the weekend before my mother had passed away suddenly 4 days later, in fact, the same day and week that Terry had this year I 2026.
The following weekend, Terry showed up to help JJ and I with my mother’s estate and my endless blathering of what I needed to do next, what I was going to do, how am I to solve all my mother’s debts, how do I take care of her dog too (I am a cat person), in addition to her cat along and with my 2 kitties at home, am I ever going to find an end to all this stuff she has? (she was a borderline hoarder)
He showed up not just once, but several times. He owed us nothing, but there he was letting me use him as a sounding board. Keeping me on track, as I got through all of the mess that was left behind to an only child of a single mother.
From that day on, he was not only a friend, but a great writing buddy, and most of all he became a father that I have never had in my entire 50+ years of life. Something that I never had been blessed with ever. It was always just my mother and I, and she was a super smart warrior onto herself. Much stronger, more courageous, and smarter than I would ever be. I had stood in her shadow all of my life.
He knew I was in awe of my mother speaking 5 different languages fluently than I could on my first or second language. She could read a book like my husband just once and be a master of a new skill the first time around. (Meanwhile, I struggled just to grasp the concept and perfect the new skill)
She had a doctorate’s degree in Epidemiology and Prenatal care, she along with the Army Medevac unit taught me what I know to do today in the medical field just short of having a certificate or degree. She was wise but no common sense at times. That’s where I seemed to have flourished. And I am not sure where that came from in my family.
But there was Terry, guiding me the rest of the way. He saw something in me when it came to my writing and the one book I had written back then. He kept encouraging me to write because it wasn’t bringing enough for even a side income and the marketing was taking up more of my finances and time, especially from writing.
However, we were complete opposites. He was logical, fastidious, precise, and consistent ---ever with that tiny notebook of his that he carried with him, jotting down notes here and there, and laying out the his next story outline before he ever began to write.
I was the emotional, all over the place ‘artsy type’ of writer. Not even consistent with writing times like Terry was everyday from 4am to 8am religiously. My writing came in spurts or more likely when I had something come to me in the middle of the night or after a good nap in the afternoon, and more likely whenever we met at a writer’s meet somewhere.
Terry would pop out a book once every 6 to 9 months. Myself, once every 2 years or so.
He was a lover of mystery and adventure as it shows in his 8th Warning series or The Tiger and His Keeper series.
As for me, I loved the adventure and a good romance without the “Harlequin sappiness.”
But we were a good writing pair in helping each other out. He always had to show me the techno-side of publishing a book, for I barely knew how to turn on a computer and find Microsoft Word program to start typing my story out. I am still learning short cuts on the program to this day.
He made self publishing look like a breeze and I still fumble through it today (and I will definitely be lost without his help now)
In return, he wanted a ‘Beta Reader’ and he got that overwhelmingly from me because his wife wouldn’t do it. I felt horrible being too truthful in my opinion, but he seemed to consider what I brought up to light as an average reader may think. He wrote a lot like Earnest Hemming, an author I never liked in High School, but now I have a little more respect for him as I have aged—I still hate most of his stories (so many high school and college papers on his works). Terry came from a journalism background along with being an aviation engineer. Very practical and technical.
I was his lost generation1920s Margret in France that helped him with putting more heart, emotions with a little bit of soul into his stories, by telling him he needed to “flesh out his characters more to make them more memorable.”
And in return, Terry was good to me by helping me be more precise with technical moments in my Aviation book, Seward Bound. Even to the point that our common editor could tell when Terry had a hand in my writing. (T-bird, our editor, is a lot like my high school English teacher and college English professor.) He pushed me to keep writing when I didn’t feel like it because I didn’t think I was good enough. He pushed me to make more time for writing although I haven’t committed because my last 2 books were banned! (I thought, what was the point of writing?) Terry would spin my negativity around to a more positive outlook when the book banning had occurred. He had promptly told me to be proud of my banned works. It meant that I was good enough to p**s a few folks off and that I can now join the impressive ranks of Toni Morrison, Ray Bradbury, Mark Twain, and Margaret Atwood, just to name a few.
Terry prodded this stubborn mule. He knows I will be writing more, because I promised. I am a lady of my word. Just not of timely manner. He was frustrated at how slow I was at producing a new story. I must make that happen now that he is gone. I currently have 5 stories started, from jotted down and partially written, to just the ending being completed. (I’ve been just noncommittal for some reason.) My biggest regret is that he will not be there to see what I have produced from this moment on.
He knew my fears when it came to writing. It was never my strongest ability. I am a visual arts major with a degree in Fine Arts and a partially completed Master’s Degree in Architecture.
He was my first non-related family member and friend of mine to devour my first story, Fate’s Twisted Cricle. (I thought he was nuts. It wasn’t that good,—was it?) But he had done a wonderful job of making me go through that story a second time to improve and shorten it for the 2nd edition (when I build enough money to afford to republish it).
He knew of my dyslexia, he knew of my writing insecurities; because my English papers had all come back to me in red ink, looking like dripping blood and the rustle of papers in my hands, sighing their last breath.
And most of all, he knew I was quite an introvert. I hated public speaking and reading my books out loud to audiences. Especially, when most authors had English degrees, many of them erudite and a curmudgeon to boot. That, I am certain. These were the folks just chomping at the bit to correct any grammar mistakes I made.
Terry saved me many times in my sudden ‘panic attacks’ just before I had to answer a question on an author panel or to read one of my book passages. Mainly, by kicking this old mare forward along with take a “deep breath and exhale, Crissy” before the nightmarish moment!
He understood how difficult the English language was for me. It has taken me more than 40 years to learn it, and I am still learning! English never followed any of its rules like Spanish or any other Romance language. Terry was there to help me fix those English errors to save me further embarrassment from our shared editors.
Together, we had made a good writing pair, Terry and I. He was awesome in sharing booth costs, shared advertisements costs, and exploring new outlets to sell our books.
We shared a love for the unexplained and our minds were always open to a good “conspiracy theory” show like “Ancient Aliens.” (We had watched all 14 seasons one month.) He would explain the technical mechanics further to me whenever I was at a loss at understanding the theory, and it helped him become more creative with new ideas for the next story. Our favorite movie was ‘Love Letters to Juilet.’ Because of the explicative summary of 2 tiny simple words----"WHAT IF?” Two innocuous words. In any language, but when put together, they opened a world of possibilities. I was constantly reminding him of this, and it helped him in crafting his stories and fleshing out his characters’ descriptions and unusual abilities in his stories.
Terry’s stories will leave his family, his friends, and the world a lasting legacy to be remembered.

For those of you who are interested in attending:

Memorial service on Friday, March 6 at 1PM, Ascension Lutheran Church, 842 N. Tyler Rd, Wichita, KS 67212 for author Aidan Red (Terry Reddout).