On a whim, after two weeks in Italy, I somehow thought of Bill Wiser, my teacher at UC Irvine in the early 1980s. He was writer in residence for a quarter. I found this site. Bill was a good, good human being. Soft spoken and utterly humble, our writing workshop loved sessions over wine and food at his temporary apartment in cookie-cutter Irvine, CA. We wrote to each other in the fumbling days after Irvine. I'll never forget what he said before returning to France after Irvine: "I don't look forward to the bad writing I'll need to do to get back into writing." That, because he was teaching, not writing, and away from home. That remark always stuck with me and has helped me. Another memorable thing he said was how "writing takes time," and how students expect immediate results.

My sincere condolences to his family. Of all the visiting writers each quarter over a two year period, Bill was most loved.

I knew Bill in Northern Ireland in the years 1980-82 or thereabouts, when he worked as creative writer in residence at Queen's University, Belfast. Everyone liked and admired him very much, and he was a popular figure around Queen's at that time. Over drinks he used to tell us about his time in France and his family. I also remember he would sit in his office and methodically read through old copies of the New York Times Book Review. He was an open and talkative and kindly person. Many people will remember him in Belfast. I am sorry to learn of his death.

I met Bill and his family when my friend Archie Markham (now also deceased) and I were living in Cabris. He and Micheline were our neighbors and good friends. For me, a young American grad student and writer away from home and completely out of my element, they served as mentors as well as friends. It was with sorrow, but not surprise- after all, many of the friends Archie and I made in our years in France have by now passed on - that I happened upon his obituary. Reading it made me sad, but but also brought back wonderful memories. I will spend the next few weeks rereading his books. And reliving fond memories. All my best tp Anou and Paco, who I remember as little kids.

Bill was my thesis director at DU from 1986 through 1988. He was a wonderful human being and a gifted teacher. We all loved him very much.

One year ago William Wiser disappeared, to reappear in this old Playboy magazine found by my friend Yves Legrain-crist Thank you Yves for this rare photo

At this time in the late sixties even Playboy would greet great writers to give an excuse of cultured reading to shameful readers

These were very good times indeed

Hi Bill,

Love

Paco

Bill was my teacher at the University of Denver in the late 1980s and early 1990s. All the English department graduate students waited for the semesters Bill would be back in Colorado, returning from his home in France. We all loved him. His writing classes were held at private homes every week with everyone bringing food and drink, classes that were as much parties as writing workshops. And yet, his insights into our writing were always keen and true. He was gracious and kind. He started every first class of the semester by telling us the story of his life. I heard it many times but never tired of it--perhaps because he liked to modify it regularly, like any writer. He was a warm, inspiring presence, a great mentor and friend. He was just wonderful.

We knew Bill in the sixties when he was teaching at the University of Texas in Austin and doing research on Disappearances at the Humanities Research Center. He was a dear, delightful man and a wonderful writer. One of his birthdays was celebrated with Albert Goldbarth, the poet, here in our house. If Paco, Anne Karine, or Michelle ever come to Austin, we would like to return Michelle's kind hospitality when my husband and I visited her in France. We have guest quarters over our garage, an apartment we call "The Roost."

I knew Bill when he was writer-in-residence at the Queens's University of Belfast (and I a callow undergraduate) at the end of the seventies. He was a warm, generous friend and mentor to me and to many others. He listened attentively to our readings, offered support and shared insights from his own writing. (I agree, incidentally, with another of the memories here that his writing had something in common with a Bach fugue; certainly the prose style was graceful and musical.)

As I was telling you a few weeks ago Paco, fo me he will remain the man writting in his small "garden room" he had built for being far from our noise while preparing our baccalaureat. A different father from all the others I have seen. He liked jokes as much as whisky and he is part of all those years we have spent together between Cabris and Magagnosc.

Have a nice long long trip Bill !

Bernard Leynaud

When I was a kid I knew Bill as Uncle Bill. But with my father's father having passed away when I was just 4 years old and my mother completely estranged from her father, Bill was a grandfather to me.

I remember a photograph of Bill at what must have been my 7th or 8th Birthday, presiding cheerfully over the chatter and exuberance of us kids as we ate cake and played with toys. For years, Bill was a regular guest at my parent's dinner parties and was always my favorite guest. He had a special kindness toward children, I think.

I will remember his wit, his warm laugh, his humility, his gentle, kind-hearted nature.

I have my regrets. I wish I had gotten to know him better in my adult-hood. I wish I could have shared with him how well I am doing in school now. I wish we had spoken more of literature, his favorites and his own brilliant books. I wish I could thank him for giving me a comic-book adaptation of Macbeth, which introduced me to Shakespeare and a began a life-long passion for the Bard.

I am something of an agnostic but wherever Bill is now I believe he knows he was loved. That gives me peace. And whenever I listen to Bach I will think of Bill and be grateful for his presence in my life.

Thanks to Bill I have been introduced to English literature; but not as a student. This goes back all the way to the early nineties, when Anou (my friend and his daughter) and I were in California, USA. Not only I've read his books, but also I discovered authors I would never have read without him. As a French woman, I could have missed all this great literature, including his; but I did not.

Thank you Bill. Thank you also for your jokes, even if Anou and I used to be your victims, I had good laughs.

I always enjoyed the visits to Florida that uncle Bill was able to make and my most favorite was my dad's (his brother) 70th birthday when all the siblings were together again, unknowingly for the last time but memorable none the less.