William McKeen Quotes

He taught himself to write, retyping books by writers he admired: Steinbeck, Hemingway, Faulkner... the usual heavyweights. He said he wanted to get inside the rhythm of their language and find his own stlye.

His legions of stoned admirers probably really thought he took a hundred hits of acid before sitting down to write. But the craftsmanship those close to him saw as he agonized over his words spoke to how much went into making it look like a breeze.

The lifestyle of the character he had created had consumed him.

The latest firing had put him at a crossroads: he could continue with the fantasy of being a writer, or he could actually make the commitment.

He wrote his mother that he had begun to hate the sight of his typewriter.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is perfect in the same way that The Great Gatsby is perfect. Take a pencil and read these books, looking for something that doesn't sound right, something you'd want to change. You'll leave the page untouched.

Hunter was picked as a promising electronics technician because he aced the Air Force radio-tech exam. Hunter shrugged off the the triumph. Tests were easy. You didn't have to know about radio and electronics; you just needed to be savvy in answering multiple-choice questions. He scored so high, the military thought he was the second coming of Marconi.

Some of the locals began to think that maybe Hunter was getting out of control.

And whether he wanted to be or not, he was famous.

In these letters to Ridley, Hunters Gonzo style began to rear its head. One of the characteristics of the style Hunter developed was his preoccupation of getting the story. In fact, getting the story became the story. His writing could be classified as metajournalism, journalism about the process of journalism.

But he discovered his success later, when he began to write just like he talked.

Hunter Thompson wrote suicide notes all his life.

Putting Hunter in context was tough.

Life as Hunter Thompson's mother was no weenie roast.

Now the ashes drifted, as Hunter must have known they would, back toward the guests standing in front of the viewing pavilion. As the guests stood holding their glasses, the ash floated and settled into their drinks.