I spent the day at work in front of the computer putting in the poll, in front of the typewriter writing letters, in front of the file cabinet looking for some photos that Catherine Crook De Camp wanted. I hardly saw Charlie at all, who stayed in the front room conferring with Shelly and Quina. In the afternoon he departed with Quina to run errands. They got back just as we were all leaving, Charlie and Quina hauling in crates of liquor and mineral water for the upcoming parties.

Yes, letters were written, not on the computer, but on a typewriter. Not sure why.

The filing cabinet of photos was called “The Morgue”, as I believe such archives were called at newspapers in general.

The Morgue could be fun to leaf through, especially since it included a thick file of letters from Harlan Ellison. He could be trusted to send LOCUS an enraged “Why-do-you-HATE-me?” letter following any review of his work, good or bad. The file was labeled “The Whimper of Whipped Harlan.”