Mal Peet, RIP

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AgentPete

Capo Famiglia
Guardian
Full Member
May 19, 2014
London UK
This has been a difficult day. My friend, my client, Mal Peet, died last night.

Mal was – and it seems almost obscene to use the past tense – the writer’s writer. An incredibly accomplished word technician, held in equal parts awe, esteem and affection by his peers.

The man and the writer were inseparable – and as a man, he was warm-hearted, impishly witty, generous to a fault and impossible not to like. Make that love. Impossible not to love.

I don’t know what else to say at the moment, except for one thing.

A strange thing; a thread that connected us.

I read Mal’s LIFE: AN EXPLODED DIAGRAM only after taking him on as a client. Before that, I knew nothing of the book’s contents.

Mal, like me, had grown up in a remote part of Norfolk. LIFE is probably the most autobiographical of all his works, and it is set there.

As I read it, I became aware that one of the book’s characters – minor, but significant in plot terms – could only have been my own long-dead father.

We had dinner. He confirmed that the art teacher he had so deftly defined was indeed my father.

I don’t know what the chances of that happening are – impossible to calculate.

But there it was: a bond, a thread of connection. Now undone.

Or maybe not.

I want to say more, but that’s it for me today. My thoughts now are with Mal’s family who, like the rest of us, have been untimely robbed of a great soul.
 
This has been a difficult day. My friend, my client, Mal Peet, died last night.

Mal was – and it seems almost obscene to use the past tense – the writer’s writer. An incredibly accomplished word technician, held in equal parts awe, esteem and affection by his peers.

The man and the writer were inseparable – and as a man, he was warm-hearted, impishly witty, generous to a fault and impossible not to like. Make that love. Impossible not to love.

I don’t know what else to say at the moment, except for one thing.

A strange thing; a thread that connected us.

I read Mal’s LIFE: AN EXPLODED DIAGRAM only after taking him on as a client. Before that, I knew nothing of the book’s contents.

Mal, like me, had grown up in a remote part of Norfolk. LIFE is probably the most autobiographical of all his works, and it is set there.

As I read it, I became aware that one of the book’s characters – minor, but significant in plot terms – could only have been my own long-dead father.

We had dinner. He confirmed that the art teacher he had so deftly defined was indeed my father.

I don’t know what the chances of that happening are – impossible to calculate.

But there it was: a bond, a thread of connection. Now undone.

Or maybe not.

I want to say more, but that’s it for me today. My thoughts now are with Mal’s family who, like the rest of us, have been untimely robbed of a great soul.
Whoa. Chills. What an amazing connection you shared. I am sorry for your loss.
 
Sorry to hear that Pete, 67 is still too young, but seems like he had an interesting and productive life. May he R.I.P.
 
Oh, no.
Too soon.
All that vim.

And a strange story, Peter, but maybe not so strange in some ways; bonds don't ever fully break on the real Web.
 
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I never knew of the man, I'm sorry to say, but any loss can be devastating. My deepest condolences to all friends and family.
 
Sorry for your loss, thoughts go out to his family also xxx
 
I am so grateful to have met/interviewed Mal in November only a few weeks before his initial diagnosis. Such a fun, lighthearted show, due in no small part to the rapport he shared with Agent Pete. (http://litopia.com/world-according-mal-peet/)
Mal's take on social media? "I fucking hate it."
Personally, I found his indignation inspirational, along with his career as a writer. He found success later in life and the fact he was stalked and poached by Pete is proof to me that-- even in the digital age-- cream rises.
Screen Shot 2015-03-07 at 4.26.28 PM.png
He will be missed.
 
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