Suddenly, I’m officially gonzo! As in Guerrilla Mural of a Siren’s Song: 15 Gonzo Science Fiction Stories—not my idea, but if the glass slipper fits . . . And it packaged as part of a series:
The footnote refers to a quote from the entry on me in The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction:
There is a pleasing gonzo energy to Hogan's work, though not to date any sense of any outbreak into work of radical originality: but he continues to seem capable of storming into general view.
The only time it’s been said that I’m not radical enough. As for storming into general view, I’ve been beating myself bloody at it for decades. Maybe the time has finally come . . .
Gonzo is a good word to describe what I do. I’ve been doing stuff like this before I heard of Hunter S. Thompson. I also was surreal before I knew about Salvador Dalí.
I am doomed to forever be explaining myself. People need to label you.
But remember the words of Frank Zappa:
What
will you do when the label comes off
And the plastic's all melted
And the chrome is too soft?
So, give the gift of gonzo this Holidaze, and check out my other novels. A reviewer did say Cortez on Jupiter was “like taking a stroll through the mind of a mad Mexican Hunter S. Thompson.” And the hero/narrator of my underground cult classic High Aztech is a kind of gonzo journalist.
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