That he has a massive talent is undeniable. Fiction writing for me is like crapping a pineapple. I can only stand in awe of someone who can hammer out amazing work while sitting in a SF bookstore window as a charity stunt.

Some of his work is depressing. Other stories aren't. I don't read him for relaxation. His non-fiction is enlightening and highly entertaining, and tells a lot about him.

He's not a mean person, despite what his outer personality might seem to indicate. Much of his writing is his personal beliefs, causes, and a few hangups, extruded into fiction.

His problem is that he has a heart that weighs one hundred and fifty pounds, and it's always out there on his sleeve, and EVERYTHING hurts. Combine this with the kind of combative personality that his kind of childhood might generate--never mind being about four feet tall--and you get Harlan.

Another way to do it might be to arrange to have Mother Teresa and Dirty Harry collide at some measurable fraction of light speed.

If you have a cause to fight for, Harlan will snap to your side and outdo the Black Knight in tenacity. You piss him off, good frigging luck to you.

I have most of his books on my shelf. I bought a book of reprints once just to get the long foreword he wrote.

Of course, all this is just my opinion. I could be wrong.