Hubert Jr., dropped out of school, and at the age of fifteen was able to persuade the recruiters to allow him to join the merchant marines. The young Selby quickly met with a number of misfortunes.

In 1947, while at sea, Selby was diagnosed with advanced tuberculosis. The doctors predicted that he would live less than a year. He was taken off the ship in Bremen, Germany, and sent back to America. For the next three and a half years, Selby was in and out of the Marine Hospital in New York for treatment.

Selby went through an experimental drug treatment, streptomycin, that later caused some severe complications. During an operation, surgeons removed several of Selby's ribs in order to reach his lungs.[1] One of the lungs collapsed, and the doctors removed part of the other. The surgery saved Selby's life, but left him with a year-long recuperation and chronic pulmonary problems for the rest of his life. The medical treatments also marked the beginning of Selby's dependence on painkillers and heroin, an addiction that lasted for decades.

His 1978 novel Requiem for a Dream was made into a film that was released in 2000. Selby himself had a small role as a prison guard. Ellen Burstyn was nominated for an Academy Award as Best Actress for her role in the film. Also, during the filming of Last Exit, a documentary was shot, following Selby and some friends around the neighborhood as they reminisced.

During the last years of his life, Selby suffered from depression and fits of rage, but was always a caring father and grandfather. The last month of his life Selby spent in and out of the hospital. He died in Highland Park, Los Angeles, California on April 26, 2004 of chronic obstructive pulmonary lung disease. Selby was survived by his wife of 35 years, Suzanne; four children and 11 grandchildren.

Quotes by Selby

Being an artist doesn't take much, just everything you got. Which means, of course, that as the process is giving you life, it is also bringing you closer to death. But it's no big deal. They are one and the same and cannot be avoided or denied. So when I totally embrace this process, this life/death, and abandon myself to it, I transcend all this meaningless gibberish and hang out with the gods. It seems to me that that is worth the price of admission.