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could find.

Harlan Ellison called me up and gave me some kind words of encourage ment. Told me he liked my stuff, and we chatted a bit. When he asked why my family had moved around so much when I was a boy, I’d told him my father worked in dimensional stone and that “when the Earth cooled, mar ble and granite formed in a north-south way in America. So we went back and forth, as my dad chased promotions… but there was one thing he’d never do, and that’s take marble for granite.”

“Oh, you are a real writer,” Harlan had said, impishly, and that was like getting blessed by the pope, I can tell you.

A year or so after that , and I was doing promotions and marketing for Brian Hibbs’ world-class comics store, Comix Experience. I had occasion to talk to Harlan every once in a while, and I have to say, I always had kind of a thrill chatting with him. It’s easy to listen to a guy who can spin a yarn, I’ll tell you that.

So when Mimi and I were on our honeymoon, we decided to swing back home through LA, and maybe Harlan out to lunch. We were at the Grand Canyon, and although it was a bit late, we figured we’d chance an eight pm call to Ellison Wonderland and see if Harlan and Susan weren’t available in the next day or so.

“Harlan, this is Larry Young,” I said, a little excitedly. “I just got married, we’re at the Grand Canyon, we’d love to take you out to lunch.”

“It’s eight-thirty, you maroon; I just had open-heart surgery. So you got married?” and the like. I gotta admit I don’t really remember this part very

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