Eirik’s Obituary

On July 8, 2024, Eirik Gumeny – husband, friend, writer, editor, and renowned coffee drinker – died.

(No, fucking seriously, he did.)

Technically, this was his second death. Unfortunately, this one seemed to take.

Eirik was born on July 27, 1980 in the mythical land of New Jersey. He was raised by Alan and Barbara Gumeny in the northeastern sprawl of that great state, growing up on an unholy amalgam of classic Marvel comics, Godzilla movies, Star Wars, WPIX, and video games. He was an older brother to Bryan and Kristin. As a teen, Eirik developed a love for the works of Douglas Adams (thanks to his Uncle Mike Gumeny) and a lifelong affinity for the music of Bruce Springsteen.

At the age of three, Eirik was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. He would continue to have CF throughout his entire life, because that’s how genetic diseases fucking work. In 2014, he received a bilateral lung transplant, which is where he first died a little bit. That time, he got better.

Like another famous figure who returned from the dead, Eirik was a gifted storyteller. Moreover, he did not confine himself to a handful of well-constructed parables. No, Eirik was a prolific motherfucker. He was the author of over 50 short stories. Compilations included the 2012 collection, We’re Going to Die Here, Aren’t We? and the chap books, Boy Meets Girl and Storybook Romance. Most recently, his 2023 story, “A Balanced Breakfast,” was featured in Brave New Weird, Vol. 2 from Tenebrous Press. He won the 2023 Brave New Weird Award for this short story which came with a certificate he rather enjoyed that proclaimed him a “certified weirdo.” His work was twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Elsewhere, Eirik’s non-fiction appeared in Cracked, Den of Geek, Nerdist, Wired, a couple of medical textbooks, and The New York (Fucking) Times.

But Eirik is perhaps best remembered as a novelist. He was the author of the cult-classic Exponential Apocalypse series, which includes five novels in addition to seventeen works of short fiction. In 2020, the whole kit-and-caboodle was collected in a massive omnibus, The End of Everything Forever, which remains the second most popular work of its size after the phone book.

Other books include the young adult novel, Beggars Would Ride, which Eirik undertook in part to see if he could write a book without using the word “fuck,” something most believed a physical impossibility. In 2021, he and up-and-coming writer, F. Scott Fitzgerald, co-authored The Greatest Gatsby, a reworking of an American classic that adds two things the original desperately lacked: lots of weed and a cult of werewolf assassins. His final novella, Infernal Organs, was published in 2023; it addresses the subject of transplants and chronic illness with Eirik’s trademark blend of irreverence, rage, and fluent profanity.

As an editor and publisher, Eirik was an active and innovative member of the indie lit community for almost two decades. In 2009, he and his future wife, Monica, founded Jersey Devil Press, an online journal of speculative fiction that has been in continuous publication for fifteen years (which is like 105 in indie-lit-journal years).

In 2023, Eirik started Atomic Carnival, a new press “forever in search of the strange, the beautiful, and the ridiculous.” It published the anthologies, Open All Night, a collection of horror set in grave-shift retail jobs, and, Greater Than His Nature, focused on tales of mad science and featuring a number of stories by disabled and chronically-ill writers. At the time of Eirik’s passing, a third anthology, Eat the Rich, was in the works dedicated to stories about, well, eating the rich. (Monica will get that finished…eventually.)

It is difficult to capture how kind and supportive Eirik could be as an editor. Suffice to say, there are more than a few writers hammering away at the keys in part because of the encouragement and guidance he offered, both at Jersey Devil Press and Atomic Carnival.

As essential as his creative work was, Eirik’s life was defined by his immense and deep love for his wife, Monica. They met in 2009 online, where Eirik met most people that he loved. He wore a very impressive blazer when he met her in person, and they walked NYC for their first date. Their first kiss was on the subway.

Eirik and Monica married in 2012 on May the Fourth after they relocated to Albuquerque to be closer to Monica’s family, Roger, Martha, and Christina. New Mexico quickly became Eirik’s second great geographic love despite, as he once put it, “having to regularly fight giant ants with a flamethrower.” Along with a pair of intrepid terriers, Brock and Harvey, Eirik and Monica spent over a decade making a loving home in the Land of Enchantment.

Eirik liked to give the finger to injustice of all stripes, sometimes literally. Of course, being from New Jersey, he just liked to give the finger for the sake of it. Still, Eirik was one of the kindest curmudgeons who ever lived. He believed in the power of creating and he believed in love, even as he could feel intense anger at the way the world treated those outside the so-called norm – be it physically, economically, spiritually, or otherwise.

Finally, as several keen observers have noted, Eirik and Batman were never seen together in the same room. Make of that what you will. 

Eirik will be deeply fucking missed.  

_____

As per Eirik’s wishes, Eirik was able to donate his liver, his corneas, and other tissues to help other chronically ill people.

Two “not sad” events will be held to celebrate his life, one in New Mexico on August 15, 2024, and one in New Jersey (or at least on the East Coast….details TBD). Details will be updated as arrangements are made.

The family requests those who wish to express sympathy to consider donating to https://cota.org/COTAforEirikG/.

Another great way to honor Eirik is to register to be an organ donor.

Erratum: An earlier version of this obituary mis-identified Eirik as “a boxing kangaroo who died, tragically and violently, in the ring in 1923, fighting Teddy Roosevelt and a time-traveling Muhammad Ali.” We apologize for any confusion.

(A special thank you to Mike Sweeney who wrote all the second-best text of this obit. The best parts were quotes we stole from Eirik of course.)