Harlan Ellison is a Very Nice Man

October 19th, 2009Blog3 comments

I got the email a couple of days before the interview was supposed to take place. It was from Katie at Center Theatre Group:

Hey Michael,

I’ve been communicating with Harlan about the weekend and he asked me to pass along one ground rule. He despises the word “like” when it’s used inappropriately. He said that if anyone uses it when asking him a question they can either pay him a dollar or he’ll punch them in the face. He asked me to pass that along…

This is the deal: I have joined six other playwrights for Center Theatre Group’s 2009-2010 Writers Workshop; to this end, CTG invited experts in various fields for us to interview to gather information for new playwriting projects. As a result, the good people at CTG had secured Harlan Ellison as my expert in science fiction writing.

A few words about Harlan: He is said to be notoriously abrasive — perhaps a better phrase is “notoriously truthful without concern for the immediate repercussions of telling the truth”. He has a profound and deep-seated hatred for stupidity. He is a brilliant and prolific writer, having written over 2,000 short stories, essays, books, teleplays, and screenplays. This includes classic episodes of The Outer Limits and Star Trek. He loves writing and loves writers. He is a larger-than-life character, a living legend among writers and readers.

So I prepared well for Friday’s interview. I went to the library and picked up The Essential Ellison, a 35 year retrospective on his work, and started reading. Over the course of these readings I discovered one of my new favorite short stories of all time, a piece of his titled “Jeffty is Five”. I watched Dreams with Sharp Teeth, a documentary about Harlan featuring Robin Williams, Neil Gaiman, Ronald D. Moore and others talking about their pal Harlan. I went through my interview questions and threw out the stupid ones.

Friday afternoon Harlan and his wife Susan showed up. He definitely lived up to expectations. He was energetic, crass, and really fun. He called some of my fellow playwrights some rather mean, snarky names. But it was in jest. Or somewhat in jest. It’s difficult to tell with Harlan, which I think is why people find him so abrasive.

And there’s a reason why he’s so prolific: The guy is absolutely brimming with stories. In our ninety minutes together he told us a few dozen. He told us about how he was shooting a movie in the desert, passed out from the heat, and Steve McQueen carried him to safety. He told us about how he used to work as a painter, painting the underside of the Brooklyn Bridge. He told us about the cab wars in New York when he was a gypsy cab driver. He used the simile “as crazy as a caterpillar with socks on”, which was a moment that belongs in a credit card commercial under the category of “Priceless”.

As he talked he smacked the table. He used our little digital recording device as a prop. He spoke in funny voices. He swore and jumped up and sat down and never rambled — every story he told us was connected to the previous and then circled back around to a common point of origin. There were no dead ends — everything was a marvelous scenic route. And damn, these were really good stories. Fortunately for me and my dollars, I never accidentally used the word “like” in an inappropriate manner.

And when it was over I realized that I really like this guy. He is really freakin cool.

“Harlan, can I give you my card?” I asked. “I’d love to hear more of your stories.” I wrote my number on my card since Harlan doesn’t use email — only the phone, fax, and a typewriter to write.

“Sure,” he said, looking at it. “I’m even going to keep it and not throw it away.”

Saturday. The second day of the CTG salon, we’re back in the room interviewing more experts. My phone rings and I can’t pick it up so I let it go to voice mail. I check it during a break:

“Michael Golamco, it’s Harlan Ellison. I had a really great time yesterday, you did a great job. Here’s my number, call me back if you like.”

I call him back. “Hey Harlan,” I said, “Thanks so much for coming. We had a great time too. By the way, you forgot your glasses down here – “

“Well come by the house and drop them off for me,” he says, “We’ll have a cup of coffee.”

That made my day. Hearing more of Harlan’s stories will be absolutely terrific.