I will share only one other Harlan Ellison story, and it had the most impact on me. Let me tell you about the only time Harlan ever got really mad at me.

It was just a brief conversation at a DragonCon, and I never expected it to become intense. Harlan was talking with me about some of the authors currently working in the field, people that he thought we particularly good. He rattled off some names, then said, “And you, Kev. I think you’re really good.”

I laughed. “That’s nice, Harlan, but come on. I’m just a guy best known for his media tie-in novels, and I’m really prolific. That gets me labeled a hack.”

Now, that wasn’t just polite modesty coming from me. Understand that in the late 1990s, any author who wrote Star Wars, Star Trek, movie novelizations, any media tie-in work was frowned upon by other authors. We were practically second-class citizens who had “sold out” to write for franchised universes, and “real writers” didn’t take us seriously. Even though the very same month my first Star Wars novel came out, another novel of mine made the Nebula Awards ballot, the editor of the field’s largest news magazine told me they would no longer review my novels because I wasn’t “a serious writer any more.” In Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, Norman Spinrad wrote a screed against media tie-in novels, in which he named me specifically, saying that the field had lost many promising writers because of media tie-in novels, like Kevin J. Anderson, who hasn’t written anything original since he started publishing Star Wars novels. (Not true, I have ALWAYS published at least one new original novel each year in addition to my tie-in work. Incensed, I boxed up copies of all eight original novels I had published since the release of JEDI SEARCH and mailed them off to Norman as proof. In return I requested that he send me copies of all the original novels HE had written in the same amount of time (one novel). He didn’t respond.) Norman even proposed a resolution to the Science Fiction Writers of America that media tie-in writers be denied membership in the organization, which fortunately got no support whatsoever.

This was the background, then, when Harlan Ellison—let me repeat that, HARLAN ELLISON—named me as one of the notable writers working in the field. When I brushed off the comment and countered that I was only a media tie-in writer, he rounded on me and gave me a look and a lecture I will never forget.

“Don’t you EVER sell yourself short! You are a writer and you tell stories that people love to read. Look at the damned bestseller lists you’re on! You work hard, you turn in your books, you write the next one, you keep the audience happy. I wrote City on the Edge of Forever for Star Trek – was that hack work? I wrote Demon with a Glass Hand for Outer Limits – was that hack work? You write your best stories, you work your butt off, and you’re a real writer. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

His voice rose as he talked, and when he was done he reached into his satchel and pulled out a copy of my X-Files novel Ground Zero and asked me to sign it.

This had a profound effect on me. I can’t even describe how much it meant, after years of slaving away on books I loved, only to have my accomplishments belittled by my peers. But here Harlan gave me all the validation any writer could hope for. He was right, of course, and fortunately times and attitudes have changed. But at the time, it was the most important thing for me to hear. Thank you, Harlan.

Kevin J. Anderson, on Facebook (via piwnymisiek)