Interview with Ernest Hogan

Interview with Ernest Hogan 

Q. When you were first published in 1990, you were described as one of the up and coming new writers of the decade. Nowadays, however, you’re more widely known as the father of Chicano Science Fiction. How do these two phases differ for you? What can you do now that you couldn’t do then? And vice versa?

A: Actually, my first story sale was in 1982. My first publication of any kind was back in 1969 or 70. I could write something and it could end up on comic book racks all over the country. I started high school knowing I could be a writer, but it wasn’t easy—it was a long, hard guerrilla campaign. It felt like I was thrashing away for centuries when I sold my first novel—which wasn’t the first one I wrote. It’s pretty rare for some to sell their first attempt. The first novel I wrote is still unpublished. . . Maybe, someday . . .

It felt good being called an up-and-comer, but it didn’t last. The publishers—especially the science fiction crowd, didn’t want a wild and crazy guy coming up with new ideas, they wanted “marketable” fantasy epics and space wars. And I’m not getting into the whole Chicano thing yet. . .

This was when Tor was giving million dollar advances to writers like Newt Gingrich.

They told me that Cortez on Jupiter didn’t sell, and when High Aztech came out all kinds of strange things happened:

No review copies were sent out—I kept hearing, “Is your book out? We got books from Tor, and yours wasn’t in the box.” The ad in Locus had no text, just a big, gray, blank space.

The Mexican science fiction magazine Umbrales published a positive review, so I sent identical letters to my editor and the publisher telling them make sure outlets in border towns were stocked with it, because people will be coming up from Mexico to buy it, both letters came back unopened, stamped RETURN TO SENDER, NO SUCH ADDRESS. I wrote my agent, who confirmed I did have the address right. I asked what could have happened. She wrote back “Gremlins?”

When I was trying to get copies for an autograph session, I called one of my editors, he went to look, excited to help me, and after a long wait, came back confused: “Uh, I don’t know what happened, I was sure we had copies this morning—but now they’re gone.” When I told my agent, she contacted them, assuming the first printing had sold out, and was told, “They didn’t sell—they’re just gone.”

They rejected my next novel, Smoking Mirror Blues. No New York publisher would touch it, Finally, in the year 2000 it was published by Wordcraft of Oregon. I have not been able to sell anything to a New York publisher since.

I tell people that I keep on foot on the underground, so when the shit hits the fan, I’ll have a place to stand.

I don’t really see two phases in my career, the industry thrashed me, but I kept on writing. Chicano, and Latinx readers and academics treat me like a chignón. But I’m not a specialized, ethnic studies writer, I have fans in England, France, Mexico, Russia, and other places. Except for a short time when I got depressed, I never stopped writing. I keep doing new and different things, because just the way I am. It’s how I interact with my environment.

Q. Your first novel, Cortez on Jupiter has become something of an underground cult classic. What was it like being published way back in the day before the internet?

A: It was a totally different world. Most communications were through the physical mail, and it could be weeks before you got a reaction. Then there was the whole process of creating a manuscript with a typewriter, when cut and paste literally meant using scissors and glue, and physically mailing it. . .

Nowadays, communication with editors is instantaneous. They can demand changes overnight. And I once got a novel rejected twenty minutes after sending it.

The social media makes self-promotion a lot easier. An underground cult classic can become popular faster. Readers can buy books from small presses with a couple of clicks. You can also let people know that you’re still around, and haven’t given up or died.

I was invited to do my column, Chicanonautica, for La Bloga, because of my Facebook activity. Strange Particle Press, who republished my novels, found out about me through La Bloga. This led to academics discovering me.

None of this would have been possible in the pre-internet days.

Q. Am I right in saying you’ve only published three novels in the last thirty years? Has this been a deliberate attempt of pacing your writing career out, being in it for the long haul and taking your time?

A: Argh. Nothing in my career happened the way I thought it would. I thought I would dazzle the world with short fiction – if Ray Bradbury and Harlan Ellison could do it, why not me? I didn’t think that being a Chicano would be the big, hairy stumbling block that it turned out to be. I figured by now I’d be rich, famous, and writing whatever I damn well please as a Grand Old Man of Letters.

The publishing biz still doesn’t know what to do with me. Do I really exist? Am I human? Are those rumors of cannibalism and human sacrifice true?

Editors tend to like me, but the corporate entities they have to answer to don’t see any commercial potential in me. Still, there are people who love my work.

I have several unpublished novels. My attempt to write a “straight, commercial novel” was eventually deemed “too weird” for any New York publisher.

So I get published where I can. Usually something out on the fringes, taking advantage of new technology.

Yeah, I’m in it for the long haul. I’m not going away. I’ve given up on trying to please “them” whomever they may be. I have these novels I want to write before I die. And I get new ideas all the time.

But then, I can be distracted if someone wants to make a serious deal for real money...

Q. Your writing style often seems quite ‘train of thought.’ Do you scribble in notebooks and edit later?

A: It’s always gonzo, stream-of-consciousness or screenplay-like image collage with me. My current novel is a gigantic, unholy mess. I always make a mess first. In notebooks and sketchbooks.

I’m dyslexic, and my mom got some bad advice that had her taking things out of my left hand and putting them in my right hand, which messed me up and made my life a lot more interesting than it should have been (thanks, Mom, I love you). If it wasn’t for my superpower of an imagination I would have been doomed.

After I have enough of a mess, I go in and thrash it around until it can be sent off to the markets.

It’s a violent process, not at all pretty.

Q. Do you have a favourite line or paragraph; an excerpt from your writing that you’re particularly fond of?

A: I seem to be quotable. Whenever I see excerpts from my stuff, I’m impressed. Wow, did I really do that?

I don’t dwell on my past work. I’m thinking about what I’m doing now, and I’m always doing something.

I also do great one-liners that I put on Facebook and Twitter. People always say I should make them into stories, but most of the time, one-liners are just one-liners. Occasionally, these have ended up in my writing.

Q. Is ‘alternative writing’ hard to get right? I’ve found from my own experiences that it’s not like music where something unpolished can come across as cool and effective. So I wanted to ask, how do you achieve making your prose so pure, raw and natural, but also readable? Is it a case of the more you work on it, the more natural it sounds?

A: “Alternative” writing? I guess you meant informal, unconventional prose that mimics the words that actually come out of people when they experience life without the usual filters, the kind English majors like, where all the rules are followed to the letter. I find proper prose to be boring. And I didn’t have to spend much time around English majors to figure out that I wasn’t one of them.

What I try to do is make the words come alive. There it is, creative writing in a nutshell.

My dyslexia made learning writing and reading the way they teach it in school difficult. Then I discovered comic books, and soon was reading more and faster than anyone else in my class. I was more interested in comics, television, and movies than books. My approach to prose is more like dialogue or speech than “writing.” (I also tend to start with images and words come tumbling after.) The problem is, the publishing world is ruled by English majors. I work toward an awkward truce.

Q. Which ‘alternative writers’ are you a fan of? Who have you been compared to?

A: Harlan Ellison was a big influence in my early days. The New Wave and experimental writing took me to some interesting places. I like Ishmael Reed, William S. Burroughs, and Guillermo Gómez-Peña. I’ve been compared to both Hunter S. Thompson and Oscar Zeta Acosta (AKA Dr. Gonzo).

Q. You have a new story out in Speculative Fiction For Dreamers: A Latinx Anthology. What can you tell us about that?

A: That’d be “Those Rumors of Cannibalism and Human Sacrifice Have Been Greatly Exaggerated” inspired by my travels in Aztlán (the Southwest). After he has left the U.S.A., a gringo anthropologist gets picked up by a pair of Latinoid truckers who take him on a wild ride.

I’m really proud of this story. I think it’s a prime example of Chicano Science Fiction, reveling in societal mutations and new lifestyles that come about in and around what I call the Latinoid Continuum.

I hope a lot of people read it.

I’d get my hopes up for an award if I hadn’t gotten disgusted with them decades ago.

Q. In fact you’ve had quite a number of short stories published over the years. Who are you most proud to have been published by?

A: I’m proud to have appeared in Amazing and Analog, and to be connected to the tradition of the pulp magazine. Also, I thank Aztlán: A Journal of Chicano Studies for giving me clout in La Cultura.

Q. Your wife is a writer too. Have you ever worked together?

A: Now and then. We are very different writers. We can work in the same room and be in different universes. We’re always bouncing ideas off each other. We have fun together. Our collaborations tend not to sell, We’d probably do more of them if they did.

Q. Okay, last question. You’ve been described as a writer who is both controversial and ahead of his time. Do you think there’s a connection there, or are these simply two different aspects of the effect your stories have?

A: I’m always doing something different. I can’t help it. If I don’t I get bored. I’m also out of sync. Everybody crowds around something, and I drift off, and find something else to focus on. Sometimes these things sell years or decades later. Meanwhile, I’m getting old. I don’t know how many decades I may have left. At least I’m going to have some fun.

Thanks very much for the interview Ernest Hogan.

You can check out Ernest Hogan's amazon page here

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And find his website here