Exit, pursued by harlequin

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.

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3 thoughts on “Exit, pursued by harlequin

  1. le0pard13 says:

    Hear, hear. Thanks, Steven.

  2. 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

  3. Steven Hart says:

    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.

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