I met Trevor Meldal-Johnsen through mutual friends during a trip to the United-States in 1991. We instantly liked each other—very much so. As he toured me around Los Angeles for a week, we also found we had a lot in common. I had to go back home to France, but I soon returned and stayed. We were happily married, until his sudden death in 2003.
The loss, of course, was immense. Not just for me, his children, his family, his friends and associates; it was an immeasurable loss to the world as Trevor had many more novels he wanted to write, with one already in progress.
He was one of those rare individuals who made a living as a writer all of his life. For over four decades, he never stopped writing.
Trevor maintained he never had the goal of being a literary writer known for his style, but rather to be a good story teller; and that, he certainly was, as well as a talented writer. One of the things he used to say is that one only needs to say things once, that it’s much more powerful that way. That was very much like him—a man of few words, he went right to the point. But also, when he was done with something, he was done.
When he worked his magic as an editor, he could transform someone else's dull, confused text into a marvel of clarity and conciseness. But once one of his own books was published, he never looked back or read it again. It was over as far as he was concerned and he moved on to other work.
Always, however, has a special history: Published for the first time in 1979, it sold over a million copies and became somewhat of a phenomenon with a cult following. His other novels were well received, but there was "something unique about this one," he said, "something that touched people."
I have indeed found that whoever reads Always has the same reaction: "It's such a great story! So inspiring!" I even have young readers telling me today that it was handed down to them by their parents or grand-parents, and that they loved it just as much as their elders did. It would be a shame, I thought, to let it be forgotten. So I decided to publish it again and, in the process, I determined it needed to be edited.
Always was Trevor's first novel. At the time, he didn't have the experience he developed with his other work; he didn't have the Internet at his fingertips to research facts, or word processing software to search through his text, spot typos, repetitions, grammatical errors or inconsistencies, which is essentially what I did. He just wrote it on his typewriter in one go and sent it to his agent. The publisher was so enthused he immediately ran with it, without… well, editing it.
So revise it I did. I also modified a few scenes and some sections of the novel, especially towards the end, and mainly for consistency.
It may seem pretentious and conceited to claim I could improve a novel that was already loved by so many. The errors Always contained didn't stop it from becoming a huge best-seller, which speaks for the quality of the story and the writing.
I humbly ask forgiveness from old fans if they are shocked that anyone should dare touch the original Always. But as a writer myself, I saw a great opportunity to make it even better. Besides, I learned invaluable editing skills from Trevor over the years, and since I applied these to his book, I'm confident he would have approved what I did.
In spite of his success, Trevor was unassuming; he didn't seek fame or recognition in any way. He was just happy to know people enjoyed reading his stories. I think he would be happy now to know that I'm republishing Always for yet a new generation of readers.
As his epigraph for Always, he chose this quote by Mark Twain: “The report of my death was an exaggeration.” Trevor had a great sense of humor, and that’s very much what he would say if he could suspect we mourn his disappearance. He lives on, and I hope you will enjoy this first installment of his legacy.
Corinne Simon-Duneau