Julia Darling
In memory

Julia Darling got me work - a great teaching weekend in Newcastle, another in Turkey, some writing passes-on. Her writing is gloriously eclectic, always intelligent, insightful, compassionate, wide, deep and broad. And funny. She was a beacon of 'keeping going' to me after my own breast cancer diagnosis. We knew each other just a very little and emailed ever so occasionally. The Taxi Driver's Daughter is one of the best books I've read.

In the morning I will go to the park and throw a pair of shoes into a tree in her honour.
with love

Stella Duffy

I wrote to Julia just after my own diagnosis of secondary breast cancer. I had come across her weblog and a piece she had written in the Guardian, My Joints are Rusty Cranes. After this we exchanged a few emails and I was inspired by her spirit and looked on her as a role model as I was desperately trying to not become a cancer ''victim''. Her emails were always encouraging and full of hope even when she was not feeling well herself.

My doctor has a book of Julia's poems and loves them.

Thank you Julia for the emails, the humour, the hope and encouragement, you will be missed by many people who never met you but whose lives you touched.

Belinda Walker

Julia had honour and courage. She inspired me to take myself seriously with humour, to sing what I wanted to and to listen to my own inner voice even when I didn't like what I was hearing. Her honesty, bravery and directness when we struggled with hard moments in our history together brought us to a comradeship I am profoundly grateful to have enjoyed, and my son's life is forever richer for having had her as an ally and friend.

Katherine Zeserson

Julia, my friend, my fellow writer, you have been an inspiration. In your own words indelible, miraculous, unbelievably generous. Thank you for your joyous funny friendship, the years of courage you have offered all of us as an example, and your wonderful writing, lucid, loving, lasting.

I treasure the mug you gave me a few weeks ago, sitting in your jamas in my kitchen in Cambridge, the mug printed with your Rendezvous Cafe: Whitley Bay poem.
      "I would like us to meet
      where the Horlicks is sweet."
Meanwhile I hope you ARE telling your story with a knickerbocker glory. No one could tell it better.

love
Sal.

(Sally Cline)

The wonderfully warm and encouraging writers' meetings that Julia ran for her 'tired academics' at Newcastle University helped to rekindle my interest in writing. Julia also assisted me very directly by putting me in touch with an agent. I owe her a lot. It is so sad that someone who appreciated the richness of the world should be parted from it so prematurely. Although she was ill for so long, she was somehow one of the healthiest people I've ever met. All my love Julia, wherever you may be.

Ian Thompson

I will never forget reading the manuscript of Crocodile Soup for the first time. I had written to Julia after reading one of her short stories and months later, here was a novel. Sitting in my office, the hairs rose on my arms and I knew that this was probably the find of my literary agent's career.

I called over to my friend, Hannah Griffiths, whose reading pile was in skyscrapers around her and begged her to read it simultaneously. I will never forget us getting together half way through, dancing around the office, knowing, knowing we were reading such an original writer: an extraordinary imagination, a beautiful sense of humour, a lightness of touch in language that defied the depth of meaning just below.

I was so proud to be her agent but I was prouder to be her friend. Her work meant a great deal to me but her friendship is what I shall forever treasure. Always welcoming, she never once let me down. I shall miss you so much, Julia.

Jane Bradish-Ellames

The question that puts Julia's life into perspective is not how did she manage to cope with cancer, but how did cancer manage to cope with her? I knew Julia fleetingly, but mostly by association through my poet/writer wife, but we had a shared interest in palliative care, and as long as I continue to work in that field I will use Julia's writings as an inspiration and tonic to those journeying through the valley of the shadow.

David Thomson

Julia was a founder member of Operating Theatre. It was her work concerning her cancer that originally inspired its founding. Her ideas, enthusiasm, inspiration were central to it. We shall miss her beyond measure.

Carol Clewlow, Operating Theatre

I was very sorry to hear that the writer Julia Darling died on April 13th after a long and marvelously public battle with cancer.

I first met her in the 1980's when I was on a reading tour with the novelist Fiona Cooper. Julia welcomed us into her home as guests on that and many other occasions and I am pleased to be able to remember delightful evenings eating and drinking at her table, sleeping in a tiny bed in the children's room, watching seals together on a cold summer's day on the East Coast and laughing a lot. It was at Julia's house that I got to know Darren Beckett who is now my best friend and dearest brother. What JOY!

She was a 'true' writer, always working, always producing new and startling work and all of us writers have lost with her parting.

TK Light

I wrote to Julia Darling recently telling her how brave and courageous and witty and talented she was and that her honest, open, wonderful writing had brought a breath of fresh air to the world of illness-wellness and all its contradictions. As someone living with HIV, I've looked in lots of places for space to stay well and sane and found it in my writing, my counsellor and in Julia's writing.

I have read End several times over this morning.

It is astonishing how much less frightening the prospect of dying seems.

Susannah

I only knew Julia that little bit, but enough to know her formidable artistry, her discipline, her generosity, her wild gorgeous humour, and her strength. What a person. What a spirit.

Ali Smith

I'm so sorry to hear of Julia's death. I first met her in spring 2001 when I took a group of sixth-formers on an Arvon Foundation writing course where Julia and Jackie Kay were the guest writers. I will never forget the warmth, generosity and humour she brought to that week. She gave so generously of her time and really helped to transform the students' writing. My favourite memory is of us all sitting around the table pretending to be fruit and having conversations with other fruits. She was particularly struck with the idea of a menopausal grape!

About a year ago I discovered her weblog, finding it really inspiring and helpful at a time when my mum was in the last stages of cancer. I was always excited to find that she'd written a new entry, knowing that it would be fizzing with life and humour.

I will miss her, but feel so lucky to have known her, even if only briefly.

I send this with much love and good wishes towards Julia's family and friends.

Alison Binney

Although I never met Julia by virtue of our writing genres being different, I had heard so much good about her.

From one writer to another, I salute her work, her ideas and her life.

Steve Richards

Julia encouraged me with my writing when I had no faith in it myself. She asked me to show her my poems, because she seemed to know I would never send them out otherwise, and suggested Diamond Twig. She has been a amazing influence and support to so many writers starting out, with a genuine warmth and interest in people that is unique. We all owe a lot to her. Even when she was unwell she continued to support writers. I sent her six poems, and she replied telling me to send her all 60! That's Julia - an amazing generosity, selflessness and spirit the rest of us can only hope for.
We are all sadder she is gone, and better because she was here.

Thank you Julia, you are sadly missed but still in our thoughts,
Angela x

Angela Readman

Julia was the most generous of writers. She lavished her gifts on all of us. And those gifts seemed endless — her words, her humour, her music, her intelligence and her courage. She taught us a new way to rage against the dying of the light, a way that often involved sticking our tongues out and making rude faces. Her writing made me laugh and cry. Her presence lit up the room. Today I feel sad and angry, but also hugely grateful to have known her.

Val McDermid

I first met Julia when she taught me on a writing course - she was inspirational, witty and uncommonly kind. She encouraged me to write. I knew her only a little and met her rarely, but she always remembered me and welcomed me with the open warmth of an old, close friend. She willingly read my book (started in her workshop), and gladly wrote the 'blurb' with such generosity and kindness, I'm indebted to her.

She made everyone feel valued, and so many have been touched by her support. Her encouragement to others was so personal, so giving. Her life, so giving.

Linda Innes

I first met Julia in 1999 when she acted as dramaturg for my first radio play. She was patient, practical and above all kind about my poor first efforts as a playwright. As we met over the following weeks we talked more and more about the books, and movies (and drinks!) we enjoyed and I came away from these times with a richer understanding of what it meant to be a writer. Though we little more than acquaintances she never forgot me and always made an effort to ask me about my work and life whenever we met. It was never less than an absolute pleasure to talk to Julia, and the world is a much worse place for losing that heart lifting smile.

Tony Kerr

I got to know Julia last Summer when we started to work together on a 15 minute piece for the BBC1 regional current affairs programme Inside Out. This item focused on Julia's belief that words can heal as surely as drugs and demonstrated how her poetry was helping her come to terms with her condition. She kept a video diary for the film in which she described her relationship with cancer and the impact it had on those close to her. I had only expected Julia to make a few recordings - but, in fact, Julia was so incredibly generous with her time and she made dozens of entries (along with her family) spanning several hours. Of course we could only broadcast a very small percentage of that material so I feel very privileged to have viewed all those diary entries. The power of Julia's words, her incredible wisdom, energy of thought and courage shone through in everything she said - both on and off camera. She was one of the most remarkable and open people I have ever met.

Andrew Hartley
Producer Inside Out, BBC North East and Cumbria

There have been many opportunities to thank and celebrate Julia for particular projects and her contribution to the arts in the region. However it is not until someone like Julia leaves the arts community that you realise just how important the contribution has been. Quite apart from Julia's plays, novels and poetry, her work in education, health and support for fellow writers has been an inspiration to so many in the region. Julia will be sadly missed but her legacy of work will continue to inspire others for many years to come.

Andrew Dixon
Executive Director, Arts Council England, North East

I had only recently got back in touch with Julia after nearly 30 years, (we knew each other in Brighton in the mid/late 1970s), I emailed her and got such a kind and friendly reply when I enquired after another long lost friend we both knew. It was during the broadcasting of Appointments on Radio 4 in February and I had heard her brave and touching interview on Woman's Hour, I'd come across her work, but had not realised what a champion of writing & poetry she was until I read her weblog, her work was wonderful and will continue to inspire.

Isobel Golt Morris

Julia was like magic. You couldn't make someone like her up if you tried. Well, Julia herself probably could have. I was always, always pleased to see her, without fail - she brought a special charm with her wherever she went. Working with her at Live Theatre was effortless, enjoyable and fun. She made everyone around her feel important and like they counted.

I loved her plays, her characters were wonderfully eccentric, but real and human. I suppose like Julia! I am so sad today but so pleased to have known her. She was an inspiration to me and was proof to all of us that to think positively and with creativity takes courage but can be life changing. Thank you Julia.

Sarah Raad
Live Theatre

Julia taught many of us vast things. For me the lesson from Julia uppermost in my mind is the knowledge that it is possible to be ill and to die as you have lived, that individuality need not be diminished one iota. I will continue to call little children 'Small Beauties' and think of Julia every time I do. With love and gratitude.

Pauline Beaumont

Julia ran the first writing course that I attended when I moved to the North East about 12 years ago and has given me such encouragement – from publishing my Diamond Twig book to providing the "blurb" on my new collection, plus so much in between. Generous, funny, so talented and amazingly honest about all she was going through. I'm doing the Race for Life in May, in aid of Cancer Research and now I'll be doing it in memory of Julia – well, more in celebration of her and the legacy she has left us all. I can just picture her wide smile at the thought of me running.....

Update: I raised £591.54 — thank you to everyone who sponsored me.

Fiona Ritchie Walker

I met Julia through her writing - first, on the page, when I read Crocodile Soup and then when I became the editor for her second novel, The Taxi Driver's Daughter. Her novels and poetry have given me so much pleasure over the last few years. She was such great fun to be with and her writing really did reflect the sort of person she was: so funny, so full of life, so connected to the people around her, full of humanity and tenderness. Her bravery was overwhelming and inspiring. I am so sorry I won't be working with her again, but I am so very glad to have known her.

Mary Mount

I remember so clearly that night when Julia shyly read her poems for the first time to six privileged people in her bedroom beside the Town Moor in Newcastle, and how stunned we all were by Small Beauties: "You are too small, and too beautiful to ignore". Then with Bev and Scarlet and Florrie she came to see us in Australia, twice, and there is a little room in a warehouse in Fremantle where she signed her name as she finished Crocodile Soup, and it is still there. It is her suddenly radiant smile and beautiful voice I will remember most, and her gloriously kind sense of humour and fun. She taught us all how to live and to love, and she did not deserve that shadowing over her vibrant life. She taught us all, with her light within, how to face pain and adversity with frank courage, and through her writing she carried us generously right to the verge of her precious life. Goodbye, Julia.

Bob White

Several years ago, I began a new job. Part of my job was to 'look after' our new Writing Fellow: Julia Darling. Julia was an easy charge; she threw herself into everything with such excitement that if Julia had an idea, it was impossible to see it as anything other than a fantastic opportunity. I've left the job a long way behind but Julia's warmth, humour, creativity and generosity are still with me. Julia, for that, and for your support and encouragement: thank you, wherever you are.

Love, Joanne

Joanne Allison

A terrible loss.

Ally May

goodnight and godbless

Alison John Christopher and little Helen Dickson

Julia was a person I knew I wanted to get to know better from the night we first met, when we were both up and out there, dancing up a storm. I don't recall there were many getting up to dance but so what, it was clear that would never stop her. A woman after my own heart, I thought. She was after everyone's heart except she never seemed to be after hearts, just won them without trying, by being her own natural self - her talented, funny, smart, down-to-earth self. It's beyond me how someone could stay so brave and so alive, all the way, no matter what the news. That Grim Reaper — and he's had it in for poets of late — is a damn fool.

Eva Salzman

Julia Darling has been an inspiration to me, as she has been to so many others, in my attempts over the last few years to set pen to paper. I first came across her when she performed as a member of the Poetry Virgins and then when I went along to an early Proud Words workshop she led at Pride on Tyne about eight years ago. I love all her plays, her poems and stories and both of her published novels.

She has been an inspiration to me not only as a writer but as a member of the lesbian community in Newcastle. Her warmth, creativity, enthusiasm, generosity and love of life was unique and uniquely infectious. Her presence here as a writer and as a human being battling with cancer has made a huge impact on me which will now always be a part of who I am.

Julia wrote in January's Mslexia that shoes in a tree can represent souls after death. No doubt I will not be alone in remembering Julia every time I walk past the 'tree of shoes' in Heaton Park. As the shoes have spread from tree to tree so has the effect of her spirit and imagination on those who have read her writings, attended her performances, heard her voice on radio, seen her brief appearance on TV or enjoyed the privilege of knowing her personally.

Thank you Julia for being remarkable.

Jenny Secretan.

I'd like to express my sadness and sympathy having just heard of Julia's death. We met and spoke on a number of occasions and I'll always remember her words and concern after the death of my daughter. She was one of the "good guys."

Ian Dowson

I only discovered Julia's writing in the last weeks of her life, when I caught her last interview on Woman's Hour, but as a woman living with breast cancer I want to thank her for articulating so many of my fears and frustrations with this disease and what it does to us and those we love.

Rest easy my dear you put in a great shift.

Anna Dickie

Though I only met Julia a few times, I've loved her work and her spirit. Her death shouldn't have been a surprise but it still is, partly because she had been ill for so long, and partly because when you read her work, you realise that she took the fear of dying away from herself. And in doing so, all we had to do was to read those words and it went away from us a little bit too. And while we all still have those fears, and they won't ever go away, neither will her words of hope, humour and love. I hope the tributes on here will be some small consolation to her family and to Bev.

David Price

I met Julia briefly a couple of years ago when I attended a writing workshop she was running for women in Brighton. The genuine warmth, respect and encouragement she showed towards each one of us and our writing stayed with me, and I've recalled it countless times when I've worried my writing was 'not good enough'. Recently, I contacted Julia to invite her to speak at a conference I was organising (Lapidus - organisation for use of literary arts in personal development). Again she was warm and enthusiastic, but made it clear she might not be able to attend if her health had deteriorated. Sadly it did, and Julia was unable to come. To honour her work and her life, myself and another delegate read some of Julia's poems at the conference, and also extracts from her weblog. Many people were moved by her words, but also somehow left feeling joyous. One person said Julia had an 'incredible spirit'. My own feeling was Julia was full of love and light and probably continues to be so, somewhere.

Maria

A lovely woman and a lovely writer

David Napthine

I was on my first novel when I met Julia. I was embarrassed, would never tell anyone I was working on a book. My partner Ally interviewed her for the Big Issue. "You've got to read Crocodile Soup, it's great," he said. "The author, she's lovely. She wanted to know all about you."

Yes. He interviewed her, but somehow she ended up asking about his family. And our dog. She was particularly interested in our dog.

It was a few years before we met again. My book was published. I asked Julia for a quote. She must have been inundated with manuscripts from hopeful new writers, but still she read it, and gave me a lovely quote for the cover. She gave me a leg up into the world of visibility.

I carry little images with me. Julia, riding a bike. Julia, walking on the beach. Julia, going to the shops or riding in a taxi. I read her blog, and she painted these pictures in my head. Sometimes she talked about writing retreats. I felt like a little girl, nose against the sweet shop window. Writing retreats! Such things existed? Wow.

She hardly knew me at all, and yet she treated me like an old friend. I travelled up to Newcastle on my own, to see a short play of hers, set in a Turkish baths. She didn't hesitate in asking me to join her table. She budged some chairs around, introduced me to her friends.

The last time I saw her was five weeks ago. It was Manchester Central Library, an incredible circular building, with curved rooms and a hole through the middle. The room was tall-ceilinged, wood-panelled, bathed in a golden light. I'm not being fanciful. It really was. Julia remarked on it. Something to do with the wood, I suspect. Julia read some of her poems, and I was so struck with her vibrancy, her humour, her life.

She signed a couple of poetry anthologies for me, but there was a disaster. My books got thrown away by accident.

I emailed her, not knowing how ill she was. A surprise Jiffy bag appeared, a week or two later. Two replacement books, signed by Julia. "keep on writing girl!" she wrote.

A friend of mine was undergoing chemotherapy recently when she heard Julia on the radio; Woman's Hour. It made her feel better. She asked me to tell Julia how much she'd touched her life.

Julia's taught me that cancer is about life, not death. That as long as there is blood in your veins there's a reason to hold your head up, and smile at the sky.

Clare Sudbery

She sent me her book of stories. She must have popped it in the post at dawn in Newcastle, right before she flew off to Africa. I spent the next few days eating those stories like sweets.

That was July 2001 and I'd been at the proudWORDS festival, doing workshops and readings, being whizzed around the city and put up in a swanky hotel on the river. Julia met me at the station in a tie-dye tee shirt and a green hat. 'I'm wearing my Bubble hat!' (Bubble was one of the best characters in that year's Big Brother.) We'd never met before, but straight away we were onto how great Primark is, and then all about the new buildings on the river. She pointed out the new bridge and the Baltic Flour Mill, covered with scaffolding. Soon it would be stuffed full of new art.

She was interested in everything and she was indefatigable. She was there at breakfast, to take me to my workshop. She dashed off to photocopy pages from a thousand and one charity shop novels, which the whole group then set about doing cut-ups with. Between us we created a vast surrealist fantasy about Jane Austen on Mars. Then we had a huge pot of tea together and talked about writing and topiary and cancer and Africa. And then there was the performance in the theatre that night: a mammoth night and a proper jamboree in which everyone got up to do their party piece. Everyone got the limelight - that was the thing. And then Julia was up with all the women in her band, all with guitars doing Marlene Dietrich songs. I remember, even then it wasn't over — it was a night that didn't want to be over. Before the houselights went up, the café tables went back and it was disco time. Jeremy had driven up from Manchester - he'd only just met Julia, too and the two of them were bopping round to Madonna.

It was a quick trip north — a frantic, fantastic weekend — and all of it was an event. It was like living in one big work of art.

Paul Magrs