Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

The noted fantasy and horror writer died on Sunday.

I'd read some of her works. Not so much the Saint-Germain chronicles, which were her best known and most voluminous work, but a few other things. I particularly got a kick out of a light fantasy called A Baroque Fable, which I have an autographed copy of here: the story contains songs, and there's something at least unusual, probably unique among fantasy novels at the end of the book: printed music of the tunes of those songs, composed by the author herself.

For music, especially opera, was an abiding interest in Quinn's life. Indeed, the idea for the Count Saint-Germain came from a real man of unknown origin using that name who floated around the court of Louis XV. He was a musician and composer, making him of interest to Quinn. Rumors of extended lifespans followed him around, and Quinn's idea was, what if he were an immortal vampire? and a series of novels depicting him as such and placing him in a variety of settings followed.

But for me, Quinn Yarbro was primarily a person whom I knew. She was part of the circle of sf people I joined when I went to UC Berkeley as a student in the '70s. I was part of "the gang from the late, lamented Magic Cellar" to whom A Baroque Fable is dedicated, and I often saw and chatted with her there while the Cellar lasted. It was there, too, that she brought the first printed copies of Hotel Transylvania, the first Saint-Germain book. I also was invited to a small, invitational social group that met at the home of Quinn and her then-husband Don Simpson, a tinkerer, inventor, and artist of vast imagination, who is still with us today. We talked sometimes of music, often lots of other things, and it was always interesting.

So I knew Quinn fairly well in a casual acquaintance way for some time, and we continued to greet each other as friends in later years. I last saw her at the San Jose Worldcon in 2018, where she was one of the Guests of Honor. I ran into her at an off-campus party at the nearby home of mutual friends, and we had one last friendly and agreeable conversation. I'll miss her fierce intelligence and inquisitive mind.