Challenger Logo by Alan White   A Science Fiction Fanzine   Summer 2004

 

HARLAN

I accompanied Quinn to the Oakland airport to retrieve Harlan and his girlfriend and convey them to the Claremont Hotel, site of the conference. I remember bumping Ellison's portable typewriter into a wall. "Hey," he said, "you trying to ruin my career?"

Quinn took Harlan and his lady to her place, where, with some disgust, he scanned a fanzine, eventually quoting one of its lines to the SFWA. And now I get to tell an Ellison anecdote ...

So we reached the Claremont and piled out and went in - Harlan in his L.A./Carnaby Street best, the lady six feet of blonde class and beauty, and

the squalid hippy wretch that was GHLIII, toting a bag. As we were crossing the lobby a hotel flack ran up and grabbed Ellison by the arm. "Where are you playing?" he demanded.

Squawk! Screech! "Oh! You're guests!" The man fled. Livid, Harlan proceeded to check in. Norman Spinrad called a hello from the elevators. "And where are you playing?" asked Harlan.

Ellison, then as always, was the star of the show, granting interviews (viz right), touting The New Wave, doing his thing for sci- ... excuse me, speculative fiction. Hey, it was the way the future was. I'd have those days back. 

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