Stan, as I eventually came to call him, played the piano at home and the organ every week at his Methodist church in Bulwell. He would always walk there, never having learned to drive. He put his teaching and his children, Penny and Sarah, above his writing. He also loved to paint, and would take six weeks off between novels to paint pictures before beginning a new one. But he lived to write. When, in late 2005, he told me that he hadn't begun a new novel, I feared that he didn't have long to live.See also: Dawn of the Unread - Issue 14 Page 1 - Stanley Middleton.
(Hat tip, Dave Lull.)