On June 28, 2018 we
lost one of the true giants of speculative fiction, Harlan Ellison. What
follows here is an essay that I have long been attempting to write — even
before Harlan’s passing.
* * *
*
I started writing professionally in 1981 (for the comicbook
publication, Amazing Heroes); in ’83 I met Jeff Rovin the publisher of Video
Gaming Illustrated, and he hired me to first write reviews for the
publication, and later to become part of the editorial staff.
At some point between those two events (late ’82 or early ’83)
I happened to have met Harlan. It was at a comicbook convention in New York
City. Harlan was on the floor of the con expounding on something or other to a
gaggle of thoroughly entranced fans. These fans were completely taken with the
fact that someone as legendary as Harlan was talking to them (after all, he had
written City on the Edge of Forever —
for STTOS
— as well as edited the two Dangerous Visions)
These kids (ha, “kids” they were probably my age or younger)
were all “Mr. Ellison…” “Mr. Ellison…” and Harlan was thrilled with the
attention and happy to indulge them. Being all of 27 or 28 and having published
a couple of articles, as well as working as an assistant editor for Amazing
Heroes and The Comics Journal, I was totally full of myself and so I
walked right up to Harlan and addressed him.
“Harlan,” I said (somehow thinking myself on par with him). “My
name is Bob Sodaro, and I just want you to know that you saved my life.”
“Of course I did.” He responded. “How?”
“You wrote [In Dangerous Visions] that a writer
writes, and that if he can’t write, he should go out and work with his hands ‘til
he can write, and then come back and show everyone that he can. Well I’m
currently working with my hands at Remington Arms, and, like you, I also write
for Gary (Groth; publisher of TCJ). What you said, (“A writer
writes”) was so important to me that I wrote it down and taped it to my
typewriter to remind myself.”
It was at this point that Harlan smiled and said, “That’s
great, someday, when you get to my place you can have taped to your typewriter
what I have taped to mine.”
And all of a sudden — like the kids he was entertaining a
moment ago — I too am a fan, and eager to know what this great bit of wisdom
that Ellison has taped to his typewriter.
“What?” I breathlessly asked.
“I’m a writer and I don’t have to take shit from anyone.”
It was at that very moment (even though I didn’t realize it
for years to come) that Harlan Ellison ruined my life.
You see, what I heard was that — as a writer — I too didn’t
have to take shit from anyone.
To be sure, I did, in fact, go home, type that line up, and
tape it to my typewriter. And for years (and years) that followed, I totally
bought into the mantra that I was a writer and didn’t have to take shit from
anyone.
As I aged and maneuvered through the rest of my life, in the
back of my head, whenever I was getting static from those around me, I remembered
Harlan’s words, and conducted myself accordingly. Needless to say, the mere arrogance
of living life like that most assuredly got me into (and perhaps even out of) numerous
incidents.
Now I realize that I have not (and perhaps never will)
achieve the mastery of Ellison, but I still believe that what he told me
applies to not only me, but to all writers, as in an interview I read (in TCJ
of all places) with Bill Gaines — the
former publisher of EC Comics, and then publisher of Mad Magazine — stated that
writers were everything, and without
writers we’d have…roller derby.
Further, I recalled something that Robert A. Heinlein (one
of my favorite authors) said, that a writer writes, and gets his writing
published. Over the years, I’ve written numerous ad spots, thousands of
articles, contributed to dozens of books, and penned a number of short stories,
as well as a play or two.
As a postscript to the above, I did once get the opportunity
to interview Harlan, for Amazing
Heroes (#44 April 1984) where we discussed his upcoming story in Daredevil
#208, entitled The Deadliest Night in My
Life, which was illustrated by David Mazzuchelli. A story which has been hailed
as “One
of the Best Daredevil Stories Ever [written]”
So, again, while I’m freely willing to admit that I’m not
(and probably never will be) “Harlan Ellison Great” for better or worse, I am a writer, and I do believe that I
have a way with words.
