A Year Without HAJ
Howard Andrew Jones (1968-2025)
Today marks the first anniversary of the passing of a legend: my friend, Howard Andrew Jones. I wrote the following on 18 January, 2025, for Locus Magazine:
Howard Andrew Jones has passed away. Even now, those words stare back at me like some twisted joke. How could Howard be gone? He was the hero; the last son of d’Artagnan, the last musketeer. When he cried out: “Swords together!”, you heard the fraternal echo of Dumas, the mad laughter of Sabatini, the quiet confidence of Lamb, and the wild exultation of REH. His is the lean shadow of L’Amour, of Haas, of Westlake — though fused with the nobility, the chivalry, even, of his long-respected hero: Hannibal. But, it is true. Howard Andrew Jones has gone into the West and will be seen in this Middle-earth no more. And we who remain are left to pick up the pieces of our shattered hearts and trudge forward without his boundless enthusiasm egging us on.
Howard Andrew Jones was a mensch. In the finest, purest definition of that word. I first met him in October of 2007 when I received an email from him in his capacity as Managing Editor at Black Gate Magazine. A mutual friend, Morgan Holmes, had given him a copy of my first novel, and he wanted not only to schedule an interview for Black Gate, but to also talk less formally about Harold Lamb, REH, and S&S. Thus began a friendship that would span the next 18 years.
Howard had a rare gift: the ability to instill his own enthusiasm in others; rarer still, it was coupled with a kindness and an empathy that made him one of the finest fiction editors I’ve ever known. He took the sting out of rejection by telling you what he saw, where he believed it went wrong, and how to fix it. His own writing sang. He was the skald of the unabashedly good hero, and in the form of Hanuvar Cabera, the protagonist of what will likely be remembered as his magnum opus — The Chronicles of Hanuvar — the wise reader could see the man Howard wanted to be overlaid on the man he was: a hero, a man of action, a son, a brother, a father, a husband. And his sorcery was the ability to make you feel it. Simply put, Howard was the best of us.
I last talked to Howard on 11 October 2024, after he’d received news of his terminal illness. He wanted to check in with me, make sure I was okay; he downplayed his illness, remembered I’d been let go from my previous publisher, and proceeded to give me a blistering pep talk. He signed off with his usual: “Swords together, buddy!”
On the morning of 16 January 2025, the news broke that Howard had lost his battle with cancer. And all I could think of was that final pep talk, and this: some friendships are like the most precious books — though we can no longer open new pages, their stories remain part of us, helping to write who we become. I will forever keep a page close to my heart; on it, a story of friendship, camaraderie, craft, imagination, and unabashed enthusiasm for the written word. A page dedicated to Howard Andrew Jones.
Swords together, my friend. For all time.
It’s been a year, and there’s still a Howard-sized hole in the world. We never discussed what we believe about death and the Great Beyond, but I’m confident I will see him again in the Worlds Beyond the Gate . . .
Swords together.
He is much missed by those who loved his work. I greatly enjoyed each new adventure that sprang from his talented hands. Sadly, his loss came at the time when he seemed to be really hitting his stride as a creative writer. I’ll miss those many wonderful books that we have been robbed of. My condolences to his friends and family.
Well said. I met Howard and discovered his work far too late in life and he became a quick new favorite. Hanuvar became a modern classic for me. I am still saddened by his passing but grateful that I had the chance to interview him