Writers whose work dies before they do

Robert McCrum gives his top three — Arthur Koestler, the poet Alfred Austin, and Barbara Pym — and the following caption:

[Wilfrid Wilson] Gibson went on to publish the most widely read book of (first world) war poetry by a non-combatant, including the very popular "Breakfast", an instant candidate for any new edition of The Stuffed Owl. But in the wake of the war, and with the rise of modernism, his fame quickly faded. Poignantly, Gibson himself was only too conscious of his short lease. In 1934, according to Hollis, he wrote to Frost to say, "I am one of those unlucky writers whose books have predeceased him". This line, I think, deserves a special prize for candid self-knowledge. It's also provoked me to wonder about other writers (in all genres) who, similarly, outlived their literary success. I suggest that this is not the same category as "one book wonders", but more to do with writers whose work, by the end of their lives, no longer seemed of importance.