Fear and Loathing in America

by Hunter S. Thompson

  Meanwhile, I plan to spend as many afternoons & evenings as possible in the Jerome bar. Say hello the next time you stop in. I’ll be the one writing poetry with the blood from my own fingers on the mirror behind the booze racks.

  As for your friends …Well, you can bring Gilman, but for christ’s sake leave the other ones back there where they belong.

  OK …

  Hunter

  TO JIM SILBERMAN, RANDOM HOUSE:

  Eager to begin his next writing project, Thompson wanted to settle the outstanding American Dream book he had agreed to write for Random House before Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and On the Campaign Trail ’72.

  February 20, 1973

  Woody Creek, CO

  Dear Jim:

  I keep making plans for a trip to NY—but I keep putting it off because I can’t quite focus on what I plan to say when I get there. I keep saying to myself, “Yeah, I should definitely get to NY sometime soon & talk to Silberman about that book” … but in the meantime things are happening all around me; the phone rings incessantly, & every time I answer it there’s somebody else yelling about something that must be done now, and damn the expenses … and consequently I keep postponing that trip to NY, because if only by contrast it strikes me more & more like a sort of Duty Trip, for dealings with a gang of anal-retentive Seconal addicts.1

  Your letter of 1/16 is ……a…… nice …… example …… of …… what ……I……mean ……I guess.

  “Let me know when you’re going to turn up.” That’s a quote from your closing line (1/16/73).

  Well …I can “turn up,” as it were, just about any time I can find a good reason or even a reasonable excuse for calling the travel agent & asking for a RT ticket to NY … or I can stop by in connection with another trip, if necessary. I have to fly to Cambridge in a week or so, for instance, to speak with the Nieman Fellows.2 And in mid-March I have to go to the Univ. of Chicago for some kind of speaking trip … and whenever I can get a few loose days I have to go to Washington for 3 or 4 reasons.

  What will we talk about if I stop in NY? A book? The old “American Dream” contract? A new and/or different book for Random House? Or will we just sit around & wring our hands stylishly in some expensive french restaurant?

  I’ve finished the Campaign ’72 book. It went to press this morning …and I’d like to get on with something else. (I recall saying almost exactly the same thing to you when I finished the Hell’s Angels book in the spring of 1966—remember that phone call from Alpert’s3 house, when I said I wanted to do a book on that gang of freaks who were eating this stuff called “acid” & hanging around the house? No hope for that one, eh? Much too esoteric.)

  Yeah …I thought I’d jab that one in again, just for laughs…. Haw, haw. We shore blew that one, eh?

  But what the hell? It was only five years—and I did, after all, survive. Indeed. But I don’t plan to go that route again. It’s too high a price to pay for a peaceful, prestigious slab in the Random House morgue. I have no intention of waiting five years before writing another book … for good or ill; two books in two years is one too many, I suspect, but my instinct said it was better to go with the circumstances & on balance I think it worked out.

  In any case, I want to get started on another book immediately. Before the adrenaline boils off & I get sunk into pig-ranching again.

  So if you want me to write another book for Random House, let me suggest very respectfully that we get the bastard settled at once. Otherwise, we should make arrangements for me to pay off that old contract & then maybe write a book for somebody else … a foolish & irresponsible notion, no doubt, but that’s the way I’m feeling these days & I figure it’ll be about a year before I come back down to that other level.

  Ah … madness, madness … where will it end, eh?

  Where indeed? All I can say for sure is that I have every intention of signing another book contract as soon as possible and if you can work up any interest in that subject, I think we should talk about it very soon.

  As for subjects, that “Welcome to Texas” thing looks good, but I simply can’t tolerate the idea of moving to Dallas right now … and I think that’s the only way to do it.

  Maybe in six months or so … but in the meantime I’d like to spend most of my time between trips out here in Woody Creek, finishing off a short, Vegas-type novel called “Guts Ball,” a saga of madness & terror in the first-class compartment of a DC-10 on a midnight coast-to-coast flight from Washington to Los Angeles. I have it all lined out, a kind of cranked-up sequel to the Vegas book … ah, but maybe it won’t work; the plot is set, but the characters are still 2-dimensional, so I’ll have to give it more thought.

  In the meantime, why don’t you sit back at your desk and stare fixedly, as it were, at the nature of our relationship and then let me know what …you … finalllllllly … deecciddde …

  OK?

  TO GARY HART:

  McGovern campaign manager Gary Hart was about to enter Colorado’s 1974 U.S. Senate race.

  February 22, 1973

  Woody Creek, CO

  Gary:

  I assume you have your advance copy of my book by now; let me know when you get your lawsuits ready. Otherwise, I hope you can choke a few laughs out of it.

  On other fronts, I hear you’ve decided to bite the bullet, as it were, inre: The ’74 Senate race. It should be a real bitch, eh? I already have some posters done up.

  I’m lashing things together on this end—& sometime soon maybe we can have a drink (or a sarsaparilla, eh?) & have a look at the situation. I’ve had a lot of calls from Washington about it … indicating a sort of … abnormal interest … yes, I guess that’s the term.

  Anyway, see you soon.

  HST

  TO JANN WENNER, ROLLING STONE:

  After two years of furious writing, deadlines, and debt, Thompson opted to take a break from his arrangement with Rolling Stone.

  April 22, 1973

  Woody Creek, CO

  Dear Jann …

  Since I haven’t heard from you inre: Suspension of my $1000 per month retainer, it occurred to me tonight that I should probably suggest it myself. I was surprised to get the check for this month, in fact—because of the 90-day “failure to produce” clause in the contract—and the only reason I deposited it was the fact that I’m currently working on the Kissinger/Acapulco story,4 which should be in your hands by May 1 or so.

  At that point, presuming the story works, we can get back on something approaching a normal schedule … but my gut feeling at the moment is that we should probably keep the contract in a state of limbo until I have time to sit back here on the porch and re-assess my commitments, which seem to be getting more & more out of hand. The central horror of my (and Sandy’s) life at the moment is that I seem to have somehow set myself up for a travel/writing schedule in 1973 that looks very much like a replay of 1972—which would no doubt be as intolerable for the people in the RS production dept. as it would be for me. I get no more pleasure out of putting people like Charley & Dan & Paul5 to the wall than I do out of those painful subhuman speed runs of my own at the Seal Rock Inn—& especially now that we’re reduced to weird & unpredictable speed. That last trip was too ugly all around for any replay….

  As for money details, my understanding of the contract is that once my monthly $1000 is “suspended” I won’t be into you for any more dollars until I deliver something printable—which is better all around, I think, because my adrenaline reserves are too low at the moment to maintain the same kind of ball-busting schedule we somehow (more or less) sustained for the past 18 months. Looking back on it, I see that I’ve produced two books in two years, which is sort of like a woman having two babies in the same amount of time—and with the same kind of results in terms of physical, mental & emotional drainage, to push it any further at this point, I think, would be coming pretty close to trying to squeeze blood out of last year’s corpse.

  As for “expenses”—phone credit card
& Air Travel—my own preference would be to keep both of those and not use them until I get back to legitimate RS work … but if you’d feel more comfortable with cancellation on both fronts, well … I suppose that should be worked out with [John] Clancy in the context of the contract.

  As I’ve said, I’d prefer to just declare a state of limbo on the whole thing. At the moment I feel like I’ve pushed myself—& been pushed—just about as far as I can stretch for the time being. One of the central tenets of my concept of chemical “speed” is that it is not energy in itself, but merely enables the brain & the body to tap latent natural energy resources, which amounts to willfully trading—on a two or three to one basis—time Now for time Later.

  And I’ll still make an argument for that notion, but only up to a point, and that’s the point where I find myself right now. I think it’s about time I get back in the habit of writing at least a second draft of my gibberish, instead of lashing all this last-minute lunacy into print for no reason except to fill space or justify some ill-conceived headline in RS. I definitely appreciate the Exposure you’ve given me, but after checking (at great & far-flung length, as always) with my sources, I’m hard pressed to feel any great & overweening guilt about having taken cruel and/or exploitative advantage of you.

  But what the fuck? It’s morning here and I’m tired. Seven days of almost continuous sleep haven’t cured me entirely of whatever’s ailing me, but I figure the funk has to pass very soon; I’ve never been through one quite this long.

  My current plans include making it to D.C. for the More6 party, but only if I can work it out in conjunction with a story of some kind. I’ve already worked out a plot with [Frank] Mankiewicz to use his address in order to get a new House/Senate press card for ’73—but I suppose we should put that in limbo along with all the other stuff, for right now. I still have that Random House book contract to deal with, along with a few other loose ends, and my instinct is to take them one at a time—at my own pace, for a change, instead of somebody else’s.

  OK for now. Why don’t you brood on this for a day or so, then give me a call. In the meantime, I’ll assume my $1000 a month retainer is shut down & I’ll refrain from using my RS phone & Air Travel cards except under situations of genuine need, in which case I assume we can work those details out against payment for incoming work. (One of the main focal points of my energy at this time, in fact, is a sort of multi-pronged effort to get some new credit cards of my own—but we apparently still have a ways to go before the statute of limitations runs out on that goddamn Scanlan’s nightmare.)

  In the meantime, we’re about 18 hours away from a total split with El Rook’s candidate for Mayor of Aspen…. Unfortunate, but it looks to be inevitable. Benton, Edwards, Solheim & I have spent the past 48 hours probing for viable alternatives, but we finally came down to The Dirk.

  Horrible, eh?

  Good news is scarce these days.

  In any case, don’t be in any hurry to respond to this rambling screed. All I can tell you for sure is that whatever it says is exactly the way I feel right now … and it seems to me that a state of edit/contract Limbo is the best solution on all fronts.

  But maybe not … and if that’s the case I’m sure you’ll come up with your own solution before the next full moon. Chances of seeing you in D.C. look about 50–50 right now. I have some definite reasons to go east, sometime soon, but I’m not sure a 3-day drunk in Washington has any real priority unless I can get something real out of it.

  In closing, however, please find enc. my check for $20—which should cover that $5 tab for the B-12 shot and also the $13 plus for those two color-contact sheets. My attorney has advised me not to discus that $90 fraud inre: Damage to the hood of your car by some drunken thug in the dead of night, so I assume that’s still up for grabs … and that’s just fine with me; it’s always best to have at least one nasty loose end snapping around.

  Cazart,

  Hunter

  TO VIRGINIA THOMPSON:

  Thompson was ready for a break from his rigorous writing schedule.

  April 23, 1973

  Woody Creek, CO

  Dear Mom …

  I thought you’d get a boot out of my new stationery; it arrived about 10 minutes after I mailed off my official resignation to RS. The prospect of spending another year under that fiendish deadline gun was more than I could face—especially after finishing my second book in two years, which is not my pace at all.

  The new (Campaign ’72) book is already involved in one of those bureaucratic nightmares that seem to track me around and might—for the benefit of future generations—eventually explain why I could never pay my rent, despite all outward appearances of fame & fortune. The publisher for this one is Rolling Stone’s book division, Straight Arrow—instead of Random House—and the editor called a few days ago to tell me that they’d “refused to accept” all but about 500 copies of the First Printing (10,000) from the printer, because of “inadequate inking.” God only knows what that means, except that most of those 500 copies were sent out, automatically, to book reviewers all over the country—while the other 9500 copies are still stacked in a warehouse in Reno. Sometime soon, and perhaps even now, a second “First Printing” will start filtering into the bookstores, libraries, etc…. but in the meantime the only copy I can get my hands on is the one that got sent to the Aspen Times book reviewer. The sales mgr. at St. Arrow says a carton (18 books) of the new reprint edition is on its way to me, but so far I haven’t seen it—which makes me feel a bit strange when I pick up the new Saturday Review & read a back-slapping commentary/review of the goddamn thing. The publisher of Harper’s mag. called the other day to say that they were scheduling a big, complimentary review by [novelist] Kurt Vonnegut for sometime in the late spring … but it’s hard for me to relate to a book I can’t even get, despite the fact that I wrote it.

  Anyway, I thought I should send a note & explain why you haven’t received or even seen a copy. I’ll send you one from here as soon as my official “carton” arrives, which should be within a week.

  On other fronts, things are going okay & I look forward to as many months as possible of sloth & unemployment. My next project is a weird novel for Random House, around 1975 or so, but between now & then I have no plans at all—except maybe to run for the U.S. Senate from Colorado, but at the moment that’s only a threat.

  OK for now. Call when you get the book. No need to say anything nice about it, but I’d like to be sure it got there.

  Love,

  Hunter

  TO SID GRIFFIN, ATHENAEUM LITERARY ASSOCIATION:

  The coeditor of Louisville Male High’s 1973 yearbook had written to the most distinguished alumnus of the school’s Athenaeum Literary Association for permission to excerpt some of Thompson’s prose in that year’s Spectator—and to sell him an ad in it.

  May 3, 1973

  Woody Creek, CO

  Dear Sid …

  I get a lot of weird letters I never answer, but yours as of (whatever the fuck date it was) was so unnaturally bizarre that I figured I had to reply. I’ve never quite seen myself as a typical ALA “old grad,” but there’s no denying the strange fact that I am—so here’s $5 for the ad, and if you need any fillers for this year’s Spectator feel free to lift anything you need out of any one of my books you can lay hands on. If you do this, however, I trust you’ll be guided by my long-time personal motto: “Moderation in all Things.” In other words, I suspect you could steal up to 1000 words without disturbing the publisher, but anything more than that might bring a nasty but meaningless letter from the House Counsel.

  In any case, by all means send me a copy of this year’s Spectator. I spent a lot of time with Porter Bibb, putting the 1955 issue together, and I’m curious to know what the product looks like now.

  OK,

  Hunter S. Thompson

  TO IAN MARTIN, THAMES TV:

  June 1, 1973

  Woody Creek, CO

  News & Documentary Dep
t./Ian Martin

  Thames TV, 306 Euston Rd.

  London NW1 3BB

  Gentlemen:

  A recent effort to straighten out my desk turned up a letter from you, dated 10 Dec 71—in proper military fashion. In any case, it dealt with Ralph Stead-man’s effort to force you to honor your agreement (made by somebody named “Udi,” as I recall) to send me a print of a film you made in Aspen, Colorado when I was running for Sheriff of Pitkin County.

  The agreement—& I’m sure I recall it correctly—let your film crew cover all aspects of my campaign, in exchange for $100 worth of beer for the headquarters & a print of the film when Udi finished it.

  Your letter of 10 Dec 71 was quite clear in its statement that nobody working then or now for Thames TV had the authority to promise me a print of any film made by your people. To wit: “We do sell our films to other television companies for transmission on their channels, but we cannot normally make them available to people who have taken part in programmes.”

  In light of this, I was taken a bit aback when I got an invitation, several weeks ago, to attend a “private showing” of the above-mentioned film at the (local) meeting hall of the Aspen Institute. My wife & I paid $2 each—along with many others—to have a look at the film. The doorkeeper explained that it was being shown by its “owner,” one of the main shareholders in the local AM radio-station, who had brought it back from London.

  She ran it for several nights, charging $2 a head at the door, and I assume it made a nice profit.

  So much for your bullshit letter of 10 Dec 71, eh? Why didn’t you just come right out and tell me how much you wanted for a print? I am not entirely without funds—and, despite the flat-out lies of your producer/director, I would probably have paid for a print … since the sale of same was never a matter of “policy” at all, but only a matter of money.