I have been going through some tough times lately and enduring situations that have left me stressed and depressed. In search of reading material to lift my spirits, I picked up this volume that I’d found recently in a used book store. How could a book of reviews of long-gone movies and TV shows from the sixties through the eighties cheer me up? It’s not the specific content; it’s the voice. Let me explain.

Of writers who have influenced me most, Ellison ranks near the top of the list. I’ve told this story before, but it bears repeating in the context of this review.

I first encountered Ellison while taking a course in science fiction literature at the University of Santa Clara. I was having my ups and downs that year, and admittedly all the drugs I was taking contributed to fogging up my thinking. I had no idea what I needed or how to get it. And then in the anthology that was the class text I came to Ellison’s award-winning short story “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.” In the parlance of the Bay Area hipsters with whom I hung out, it blew my mind. I had never read anything like it. The dark premise, the visceral intensity, and the gut-punch of an ending illuminated my awareness of what writing could be. In fact, by the time I had finished the tale, I realized, with the shocking blast of a revelation, that I had to become a writer. No other occupation on Earth would do.

Cut to Seattle the following summer. I was getting over being dazed and confused by all the pot and psychedelics I had imbibed at college and wondering what to do next. In the midst of my inner confusion, I read a notice in the paper that Harlan Ellison himself was going to do a reading at a University of Washington auditorium. He started his presentation with a talk; he was a great showman, adlibbing banter and answering questions from the audience. He then had all the lights turned down low except the light on the lectern, and he read his new story “The Whimper of Whipped Dogs,” which was soon to be published in a major anthology. Wow. What an experience.

But that’s not all. I found out that Ellison was there as one of the teachers at the six-week Clarion West Workshop. I enrolled for the following summer, and sure enough, Ellison returned for a week-long stint as a teacher. My desire was to wow him, but I have to admit I didn’t leave much of an impression. After all, I had just turned twenty; I was immature and naive. All I had was a burning desire to write.

I met Harlan one more time after that (all of his students called him Harlan – he appreciated the intimacy). For a short time, before I got out on the road in pursuit of my own unique voice as a writer, left the country, and stayed gone for thirty-five years, I moved to the San Fernando Valley and tried to make it as a scriptwriter. Another Clarion grad who I roomed with for awhile knew Harlan better than I did; in fact, he had stayed with him as a guest. So we went up to Sherman Oaks to the domicile that became known as Ellison Wonderland to meet our former teacher.

I continued to read Harlan’s books from time to time when I could find them. He was amazingly prolific, and though some of his work rises to loftier heights than others, he is always entertaining.

And now we return to Harlan Ellison’s Watching. Most of the material is a compilation of a series of columns on science fiction films and television that he wrote for The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for several years in the 1980s and, as I mentioned above, there are also pieces from other magazines going back to the mid-sixties. He was a very opinionated man. When he blasts what he considers an inferior piece of filmmaking, you can feel the heat and smell the smoke, and when he admires a film or show he tells you exactly why. He was knowledgeable and erudite and unreservedly honest.

I found that I often do not agree with what he is saying. He’s got his take on things and I have mine. But that doesn’t matter, and it certainly isn’t the point. What’s important is that he’s so damned entertaining that I don’t care what approach he takes. I got a genuine kick out of hearing his voice after so long. Whether you agree with his conclusions or not is irrelevant; he gets you to think, and as a bonus he tells all sorts of fascinating insider stories about the TV and movie business. This is a great book for anyone who aspires to filmmaking or who wants a fresh take on the industry.