Harlan Ellison says the end is near. For him, that is. I appreciate the warning, because if there’s any one person I can point to and say, “That’s who first showed me how writing can come alive on a printed page,” it’s Harlan Ellison. Never met the man except through his work, which is just how it should be with a writer, but when he goes it’s going to take me quite a while to sort out my thoughts and feelings on the matter.
STEVENHARTSITE
BEING THE BLOG OF THE AUTHOR OF 'AMERICAN DICTATORS,' 'WE ALL FALL DOWN' AND 'THE LAST THREE MILES.'
Hear, hear. Thanks, Steven.
I’d be most indebted, deeply medicated, and obtusely intravened if you–or some other Good Heart–would pass along my nice smile and a kindly gardyloo to Leigh Chapman for me. She was a good kid, and if she doesn’t choose to ruminate on our time together in Rio in 1967, just before the junta ran me out of Brazil (at Schmauzer-point), refer her to pages, oh, approximately 50-60 in THE HARLAN ELLISON HORNBOOK.
Or the documentary released last year, DREAMS WITH SHARP TEETH. Some of that film took place during Leigh’s and my time together. She was a cheeky sidekick.
It’s cheery to know both of us remain more-or-less stalwart. I’m 25 years married to the most sensational and gawjuss woman in the world, and Leigh can still properly fill a pair of Levis.
Tell her I said hello, yeah?
Yr. Pal, Harlan
Regret to say I haven’t met the lady (yet) though I have seen some of her movies. Should fortune smile upon me, I’ll spread the good word.