Our main topic of conversation was the author Thomas Disch<\/a>, who had killed himself on July 4th. I knew that Disch and Chip had a history and had suffered a significant falling out. In 2000, I published a collection of Delany\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s letters, centered on 1984<\/a> From a letter to Camilla Decarnin, Sept. 1, 1984:<\/em><\/p>\n Tom Disch loved Dhalgren and saw it through a couple of its middle drafts, and offered advice, and was endlessly encouraging and supportive about it. But when he read Triton in manuscript he told me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Chip, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve read the book \u00e2\u20ac\u201d and pretty carefully, I think; and I have no idea what it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s about, or any concept of why you would want to write it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d To him, after Dhalgren<\/em>, it seemed like a return to SF at its silliest and most trivial; and he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been unable to read anything I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve written since (unless it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s about him). And when Bantam sent him (not at my suggestion, either) one of the Nev\u00c3\u00a8r\u00c3\u00bfon<\/em> manuscripts, he told me in effect that if we were to remain any kind of friends, I must not give him any more of my stuff to read. He just couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t read my work anymore and being asked to upset him too much.<\/p>\n Of course the Nev\u00c3\u00a8r\u00c3\u00bfon<\/em> manuscript was a few years after another incident.<\/p>\n This was in the first two years Frank and I were together. I was writing Tales of Nev\u00c3\u00a8r\u00c3\u00bfon,<\/em> trying to decide whether I could still write fiction at all or not, after the two-year halt that followed Triton<\/em>. Tom and Charles invited me to their house for dinner to meet a friend, a black, gay nuclear physicist at Columbia University named Tony, who was a great fan of mine, they said, and very anxious to meet me. When Tom extended the invitation, I told him, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153He sounds very nice, Tom. But, really, right through here, it would probably be a very uncomfortable dinner, just for me. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m just not up to meeting an admirer right now.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d To which Tom replied, rather shamefacedly, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m afraid, Chip, that I went out on a limb and already promised you to him. I wish you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d come just as a personal favor.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Tony indeed proved to be very nice, but all through the evening Charles kept making the oddest and most discomforting innuendoes and, when I finally asked him what was going on, turned on me directly and attacked me for two hours straight \u00e2\u20ac\u201d while Tom and Tony defended me.<\/p>\n Synopsized from the two hours, Charles\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s three criticisms were, one: By mentioning Marilyn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s NBA [the National Book Award won in 1975 by Chip\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s wife Marilyn Hacker for her poetry book, Presentation Piece<\/em>] in the brief author\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s biographies at the end of my books, I was trading off of her reputation \u00e2\u20ac\u201d especially since I was now living with Frank. (Though we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d separated in January \u00e2\u20ac\u212275, M. and I were not officially divorced until \u00e2\u20ac\u212279 or \u00e2\u20ac\u212280.) Two, by mentioning wife and daughter in the same bios, I was fooling readers into thinking I was straight. And, third, I did not like him and had no respect for him as a writer.<\/p>\n The first two were unintentional, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d already tried to do something about them, and would continue to, I told him. The third, as I explained in a phone call the next day, was just patently untrue. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d always considered him a friend and had great respect for his writing talents. He told me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like any of your work, Chip, except The Einstein Intersection. You know it. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s perfectly understandable. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s probably why you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like me. I think you think Tom is a good writer, but you just think I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m a silly little proofreader.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (Proofreading was how Charles earned most of his living.)<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Charles,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the truth is, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve always thought that, sentence for sentence, you were a more skillful writer than Tom. And I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve always been confused, and sometimes worried, that you weren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t writing more. You get very uncomfortable when someone asks you about your writing. So I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve learned, in twelve years, not to do it. But I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve always asked Tom about your work, because I was sincerely interested. And no six months has gone by when I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t urged Tom to make it easier for you to write \u00e2\u20ac\u201d and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sure he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s told you that \u00e2\u20ac\u201d simply because the things you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve written have given me great pleasure.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153He has,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But I think you were lying.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He said a great many other very ugly things that, while they didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t particularly bother me (they were so off-the-wall), I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sure an hour later made him feel dreadfully uncomfortable, even if he believed them, because he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a sensitive man.<\/p>\n Well, on the receipt of a letter I sent him the next day, saying I did consider him a friend, and I was open to friendly relations whenever he felt he could have them, he decided to sever all relations with me. And although my friendship goes on with Tom, I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t seen Charles since, save at Joan Thurston\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s funeral, where, even to my hello, he refused to speak and simply walked away. Tom has told me since that he thought, with my letter, I was trying to bully him (!) into liking me. But he also refuses to come to any social function where I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to be. And before and after, over the last half dozen years, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s accused Charles Platt, and David Hartwell, and Gregory Sandow, and Jerry Mundus, and Barbara Wise of similar lying \u00e2\u20ac\u201d and will see none of us anymore!<\/p>\n Though Tom continues to be friendly with us all.<\/p>\n Yet for all its neurotic aspect, I did (and still do) take Charles\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 criticisms seriously.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n From a letter to Robert S. Bravard, Sept. 25, 1984:<\/em><\/p>\n While [Marilyn Hacker] was in England (in June, with Iva), she told me, she developed a number of new poetic enthusiasms, including an Irish woman poet named Eavan Boland, as well as several others, male and female, whose names escape me this morning. Also, she and Tom Disch are in the midst of an interesting (?) poetic folderol. Tom published a long poem in the July Poetry called \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Working on a Tan.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d In it, there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a reference to a female friend who\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s spent \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the last three summers subsidized.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d (\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How can she stand another day at McDowell?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the poem asks. Then goes on to say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Do I smell sour grapes?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d) Nevertheless, M. took minor offense, and shot off a poem to Tom which, in my humble opinion, was mostly metered grumblings \u00e2\u20ac\u201d sort of the modern equivalent of Robert Southey\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s moralistic homilies, only gone feminist \u00e2\u20ac\u201d for the first seven (?) quatrains. The last few rise, however, to true wit. Tom answered with an equally witty letter.<\/p>\n And now he has found some editor who wants to publish the whole exchange; M. has been invited to have the last word.<\/p>\n My own advice to her was to cut the first few stanzas of her own poem and cover the same material in a letter, of whatever degree of seriousness, following Tom\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s. But she likes her poem and doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like my advice. So I let it ride.<\/p>\n At any rate, I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know where it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll all go.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Now we know. I met Disch once at a Readercon (probably 2001 or \u00e2\u20ac\u02dc02). We were introduced by Eric Solstein, the guy with whom I co-produced a documentary\/reading performance about Chip. Eric said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Tom, this is Gil Roth. He runs Voyant Publishing. He published a collection of Chip Delany\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s letters.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Disch, who was seated at a table, looked up at Eric and replied, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Delany? I . . . hate him.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n I smiled, shook his hand, and walked off while Tom & Eric talked. Almost 20 years ago \u00e2\u20ac\u201d in fact, before I began keeping my list of all the books I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve read<\/a> \u00e2\u20ac\u201d I read Disch\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s best-known novel, Camp Concentration<\/a> At brunch, I asked Chip when he and Disch had fallen out, since things got so ugly with Charles in 1984. It turned out that they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d stayed friends another 7 years or so, before some sorta blowup; Chip\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s description of it made Disch sound as paranoid and irrational as Charles.<\/p>\n Over the next hour, Chip proceeded to fill me in on some legendary stories of Disch\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s career-busting self-sabotage. I promised him I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t publish them on the site, but trust me: you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be amazed at the lengths people can go to blow up their own careers.<\/p>\n I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mean to make light of Disch\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s death, since he must\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been living with an extraordinary despair to make the final decision he made. Here are a couple of eulogies about him (Clute<\/a>, Hand<\/a>); his work was respected by a significant number of writers, even if his personality was a bit prickly.<\/p>\n Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t fret: our conversation wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t all doom & despair. Once we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d finished talking about Disch, Chip & I moved onto the state of publishing. And, sure THAT was all doom & despair, but it gave me the opportunity to show him my Kindle e-reader, which made Mr. Science Fiction Visionary just about lose his mind. Chip was amazed at the device, and asked for some usage details about it for a story he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s writing. I showed him how to get to Amazon\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s e-book store through the device.<\/p>\n Since the author Junot Diaz came up earlier in our conversation, and Chip had mentioned that Diaz\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s book of short stories, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Drown,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d was \u00e2\u20ac\u0153the best collection of stories since Dubliners<\/em>,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey! Let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s buy Drown<\/a>!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I selected it from the Kindle store, waited 30 seconds for it to download, and then showed him the book.<\/p>\n He laughed, saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh, this is really too much!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n I said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We live in the future! Things just keep getting more awesome and more common! Isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t it great?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n He concurred that it is<\/em> great, even though he says he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s happy that his books aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t available through the Kindle store. When I told him that my early experience with the Kindle involved reading a bunch of (public domain) works by Joseph Conrad, he tsk-ed me when he learned that I hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t dared read Nostromo<\/a> yet.<\/p>\n So now I have (late-)summer reading assignments: Camp Concentration<\/em> and Nostromo<\/em>.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n If it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Monday, it must be NYU! On Friday afternoon, a PR contact for one of my magazine\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s advertisers e-mailed me an urgent plea to fill in as a panelist for a NYU media relations graduate class. We hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t met face-to-face, so I warned him that my conversational style tends to, um, ramble a bit, dipping into shorthand and irreverence. He said that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be perfect for the panel, so I consented.<\/p>\n Since the event started at 6pm at a classroom on 42nd St. by Bryant Park (bet. 5th & 6th Aves.), I left work at 4pm, ferried over to NYC, and took a shuttle-bus through Times Square at rush hour during the start of MLB All-Star festivities. Since I was running on fumes all day, this actually led to my gaining a second wind.<\/p>\n Snacking at Pret a Manger in the lobby of my destination, I saw several people with \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Jews for Jesus\u00e2\u20ac\u009d T-shirts on, and I wondered if there are any other mix-and-match of religions & messianic figures wandering the streets, like \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Christians for Allah\u00e2\u20ac\u009d or \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Muslims for Buddha.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I decided that my second wind was illusory and headed up to the classroom.<\/p>\n The class consisted of 14 women who were studying to advance (or begin) careers in public relations. As this was explained to me, I thought of saying, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know people studied to get into PR. I thought PR was something people ended up doing.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d But then I thought, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153These people are paying good money for these courses, while none of my studies ever pertained directly to my job, so who am I to tell \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcem how to make it in this field?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n The panel consisted of three trade-magazine editors, but we all had different publishing models and editorial needs; I thought it was pretty impressive that the PR firm managed to get that much variety when they could easily have gotten three editors who all worked in the same fashion and had too much in common to generate much conversation.<\/p>\n The first question we were asked was, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What is the one thing you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d tell PR people to make their job and your easier?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n We all had the same two answers to that one: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Know something about our magazines before contacting us. And please<\/em> don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t call us on the phone to \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcmake sure we got\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 that e-mail you sent yesterday.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n This led into a discussion about how the phone is the editor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s nemesis, followed by my admission that I have hung up on PR people in the middle of a pitch. I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t done it lately, and I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t do it often, but when I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m working really hard on producing pages, the last thing I need is a phone call that sounds like a scripted pitch about a company that has virtually no connection to my magazine\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s coverage.<\/p>\n Near the end of the 80-minute conversation, I discovered that one of the students was irate at the idea that I would hang up on a PR rep. She asked, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If we need you, and you need us, then why shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t we<\/em> just hang up on you<\/em>?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n I told her, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Honestly? I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t give a crap. You can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t imagine how many pitches I get by e-mail and phone on a daily basis, and how few of them actually have anything to do with my magazine. You also can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t imagine how many big companies don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t bother to return my calls. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not telling you that every editor is a titanic douchebag like I am, but I am telling you that every blind call you make might be<\/em> to an editor who\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a titanic douchebag.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n In between, the conversation was much more pleasant, as I recall. We gave anecdotes that went into the nuts-and-bolts of what we do, so that the prospective PR reps got a better idea of how to approach us with ideas. At one point, we were asked about the best pitch we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d ever received. I admitted that mine came in just a few days earlier: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The marketing manager of one of our advertisers e-mailed me to say, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWe watched you drink five gin & tonics during our dinner at the BIO show last month, so we deserve to get a short article on regulatory affairs issues between U.S. and EU submissions in your September issue!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 I wrote back, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat makes no sense, but I agree!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n One of the execs who organized the panel said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We need to party with YOU at our next trade show!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s why relationships are important in this biz,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I announced.<\/p>\n A lot of the conversation covered issues specific to our industries, so I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t bore you any more than I already have. But the first hour was videotaped by the PR firm that set up the panel, so if that ever goes online, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll post a link.<\/p>\n After the panel, I headed home. Since traffic in Times Square is horrible, I started walking back to the ferry, which is on 12th Ave. It was a hot day, and I was dressed somewhat respectably for the panel \u00e2\u20ac\u201d a jacket and dress shirt \u00e2\u20ac\u201d so I picked up a taxi at the Port Authority for the last few avenue blocks. There was a 15-minute wait for the ferry, but it couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have come at a better time.<\/p>\n There are 5 more of these; click through the pic for the set.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n One of my pals, Sam, was in the area on business this week. Last Labor Day weekend, Amy & I visited Toronto<\/a> and had a great dinner at Rain<\/a> with Sam & his wife, so we took him out to Cafe Matisse on Wednesday, the one night he had free.<\/p>\n The evening was a logistical mess: I was driving in, Amy was taking the train out from NYC, and Sam was getting a cab from his hotel near Newark Airport. Scarily, the 16-mile fare from the hotel to the restaurant was SIXTY-FIVE DOLLARS, which is a sign of how over-a-barrel you can be when you stay in an airport hotel.<\/p>\n We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d decided in advance that, even though we might talk business during dinner, we wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t expense the meal to our companies; Sam\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just starting out at a new company, and I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want my boss to get mad that we didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t invite him along. So I told Sam that we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d drive him back to the hotel after dinner, to save him another insane cab-fare. But since Sam was taking a late afternoon train up from Philadelphia, our reservations were for 8pm, guaranteeing a late night (by my standards).<\/p>\n All that went out the window once we started dinner. The meal and service, as usual, were fantastic. Matisse serves a \u00e2\u20ac\u0153grazing\u00e2\u20ac\u009d menu<\/a>: larger than appetizers, smaller than entrees. Because you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re all curious, here\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s what we ordered:<\/p>\n ME<\/p>\n SAM<\/p>\n AMY<\/p>\n Sam is still dreaming about those shortribs; he did a better job of cleaning his plate than Rufus does when we leave a dish on the coffeetable and turn away for a second. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been to Matisse at least half a dozen times, but this was the first meal we had in the courtyard behind the dining room proper.<\/p>\n The adventure came after dinner, when we had to get Sam back down to his hotel. I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t list all the wrong turns and terrible highway signs that were involved, but suffice to say that the drive was about 25 minutes longer than it needed to be, leading to our 12:30am arrival at home. I really need to get a GPS unit for the car.<\/p>\n The next day, one of my favorite pharma-bloggers ran a story about how Pfizer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s head of HR has been taking a helicopter from her home in Maryland to Manhattan offices. Faced with having to disclose this info in its financial statements at a time when Pfizer is engaged in mass layoffs and cost cuts, the company decided instead to give her a bill<\/a>. For $300,000. So maybe a $65 cab fare to a great restaurant isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t SO bad.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n So those were the highlights of the week. I spent way too much time driving, but I had some great meals and great conversation, and may have left a generation of PR reps afraid to call me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sorry I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t write more last week, dear readers. Last Sunday evening, I had to pick up my dad at Newark Airport, but his flight was delayed an hour or so, and my ensuing late arrival at home led to a short night of sleep heading into Monday (we get up at 5am to start … <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.assoc-amazon.com\/e\/ir?t=virtualmemories-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0966599810\")
![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.assoc-amazon.com\/e\/ir?t=virtualmemories-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0375705457\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/farm4.static.flickr.com\/3061\/2680109687_d8076a772d.jpg?w=480\")
<\/a><\/p>\n\n
\n
\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/farm4.static.flickr.com\/3074\/2685275709_2227d9de5a.jpg?fit=525%2C480\")
<\/a><\/p>\n