Article: thedailypage.com
Harlan Ellison says he’s dying. Damn. I don’t know him as a close friend, but he’s somebody I can call and know I’m going to talk to a sensible, can-do sort of acquaintance, on whatever it might be. Brilliant man, wonderful writer. I learned how to write a short story after hearing him explain what a short story is. [“Compression of time and space. Everybody has to come together at the right moment.”] And this gesture of going out for a final foray is like him. He’s going to a con. He has his vanity intact no matter what his body is doing. He’s happy. He’s, well, not at peace with it, but dealing with it. Good for him! I like this guy a lot, I respect him of long acquaintance, and the world will be poorer for losing him.