He was smart and funny in a meticulous and offbeat way. He would cut out designs from construction paper and frame the song titles, making art that enhanced the 10,000 Maniacs or Julia Fordham tape you had just received. He made mix-tapes with music you might not yet know. He wrote long loopy notes to friends and passed them off in the hallways, lines upon lines of erudition written in a tiny but consistent hand. He read Anne Tyler novels and was in love with Anna Quindlen.
When I first met David Levithan, he was the editor of my suburban New Jersey high school newspaper.
