"The Highwayman's Waterloo," $ 125.00
"Danny W.," 200.00
"Danny W.," serial rights 50.00
"The Skirts of Chance," 300.00
"The Duke's Understudy," 140.00
"At Large in Terra Incognita," 175.00
"The Man from the Stone Age," short story 25.00
"The Honorable Jim," 250.00
"Fate's Gamblers," serial rights 15.00
"A Deal with Destiny," 150.00
"The Enchanted Ranch," 75.00
"The Camp Coyote," 40.00
"Under the Ban," 75.00
"A Master of Graft," 225.00
26 Five-Cent Libraries @ $40 each 1040.00
4 Sea and Shore Libraries @ 50 each 200.00
--------
Total $3085.00
1905:
"Cornering Boreas," short story $ 30.00
"The Redskin and the Paper-talk," 200.00
"The Redskin and the Paper-talk," additional pay't 5.00
"Mountebank's Dilemma," short story 25.00
"Helping Columbus," 350.00
"The Edge of the Sword," 200.00
"Yellow Clique," 100.00
"A Mississippi Snarl," 200.00
"The Black Box," 200.00
"A Wireless Wooing," short story 15.00
"The Freelance," 50.00
"The Luck of Bill Lattimer," 30.00
"Machine-made Road-agent," short story 15.00
"The Man from Mars," 275.00
10 Sea and Shore stories @ $50 each 500.00
--------
Total $2195.00
Good, philosophical Ras Wilson once said to a new reporter, "Young
man, write as you feel, but try to feel right. Be good humored toward
every one and everything. Believe that other folks are just as good
as you are, for they are. Give 'em your best and bear in mind that
God has sent them, in his wisdom, all the trouble they need, and it
is for you to scatter gladness and decent, helpful things as you
go. Don't be particular about how the stuff will look in print, but
let'er go. Some one will understand. That is better than to write so
dash bing high, or so tarnashun deep, that no one understands. Let'er
go."
* * * * *
There was once a poor man hounded to death by creditors. Ruin and
suicide vied for his surrender. But he was a man of the twentieth
century, and flippantly but with unbounded faith he collected a few
odd pennies and hied him to a newspaper office. Stopping scarcely to
frame his sentence he inserted a "want" advertisement, stating his
circumstances and declaring he would commit suicide unless aid was
proffered. Within twenty-four hours he had $250; before another sun
his employer advanced as much more. Carefully advising the newspaper
to discontinue the advertisement, he paid off his creditors--and
lived happily ever afterward! No, this is not a fairy tale. The
time was a few weeks ago, the city Chicago and the newspaper, _The
Tribune_. The moral is, that originality in writing, coupled with a
fresh idea, brings a check.
XIX.
LOVE YOUR WORK
FOR THE
WORK'S SAKE
The sentiment which Edwards has tried to carry through every paragraph
and line of this book is this, that "Writing is its own reward."
His meaning is, that to the writer the joy of the work is something
infinitely higher, finer and more satisfying than its pecuniary value
to the editor who buys it. Material success, of course, is a necessity,
unless--happy condition!--the writer has a private income on which to
draw for meeting the sordid demands of life. But this also is true: A
writer even of modest talent will have material success in a direct
ratio with the joy he finds in his work!--Because, brother of the pen,
when one takes pleasure in an effort, then that effort attracts merit
inevitably. If any writing is a merciless grind the result will show
it--and the editor will see it, and reject.
There are times, however, when doubt shakes the firmest confidence. A
writer will have moods into which will creep a distrust of the work
upon which he is at that moment engaged. If necessity spurs him on and
he cannot rise above his misgivings, the story will testify to the lack
of faith, doubts will increase as defects multiply and the story will
be ruined. THE WRITER MUST HAVE FAITH IN HIS WORK QUITE APART FROM THE
MONEY HE EXPECTS TO RECEIVE FOR IT. If he has this faith he reaches
toward a spiritual success beside which the highest material success
is paltry indeed.
When a writer sits down to a story let him blind his eyes to the
financial returns, even though they may be sorely needed. Let him
forget that his wares are to be offered for sale, and consider them
as being wrought for his own diversion. Let him say to himself, "I
shall make this the best story I have ever written; I shall weave my
soul into its warp and whether it sells or not I shall be satisfied to
know that I have put upon paper the BEST that is in me." If he will do
this, he will achieve a spiritual success and--as surely as day follows
night--a material success beyond his fondest dreams. BUT he must keep
his eye single to the TRUE success and must have no commerce in thought
with what may come to him materially.
To some, all this may appear too idealistic, too transcendental. There
are natures so worldly, perhaps even among writers, as to scoff at
the idea of spiritual success. They are overshadowed by the Material,
and when the Spiritual, which is the true source of their power, is
no longer the "still, small voice" of their inspiration, they will be
bankrupt materially as well.
A writer cannot hide himself in his work. His individuality is written
into it, and he may be read between the lines for what he is. A
creation reflects the creator, and that the work may be good the writer
should have spiritual ideals and do his utmost to live up to them. Let
him have a purpose, be it never so humble, to benefit in some way his
fellow-man, and let him hew steadily to the line. Love your work for
the work's sake and material benefits "will be added unto you."
Years ago Edwards found an article in a newspaper that appealed to him
powerfully. He clipped it out, preserved it and has made it of great
help in his writing. It is a wonderful "Doubt-destroyer." In the hope
that it may be an inspiration to others, he reproduces it here:
STANDARDS OF SUCCESS.
At a time when material success is so generally regarded as the
chief goal of human effort it is interesting to find a man in
Professor Hadley's position presenting arguments for a broader
view of the question. In his baccalaureate sermon the president of
Yale offered the graduates some advice which at least they should
find stimulating. He does not discredit or discourage the ambition
for practical success but he makes it plain that in his view there
is danger in measuring success in life "by the concrete results
with which men can credit themselves." "We should value life," he
declares, "as a field of action." We should care for the doing of
things quite as much as for the results. Tried by this standard,
aspiration and effort are to be more highly prized than achievement
itself. The man who sincerely strives for a great object has
succeeded, whether or not the object is attained or its attainment
brings any tangible reward.
It is no novelty, of course, to hear a college president upholding
ideal standards and rejecting utilitarian views of success, but few
of the educators have cared to follow their theories, as President
Hadley does, to their logical conclusion. Probably a majority of
them would applaud Nansen's courage in attempting to reach the north
pole but would question the utility of the attempt. President Hadley
admires Nansen simply "because he succeeded in getting so much nearer
the pole than anybody before him ever did," and thinks it is one
of the most discouraging testimonies to the false standards of the
nineteenth century that Nansen feels compelled to justify himself on
the basis of the scientific results of his expedition. Furthermore,
a man who tries to get to the pole is engaged in a glorious play,
"which justifies more risk and more expenditure of life than would be
warranted for a few miserable entomological specimens, however remote
from the place where they had previously been found."
The young man of to-day has no lack of exhortations to lead the life
of strenuous effort. It is as well that he should be taught also that
the reward for this effort will be barren if the whole object sought
be material benefit to himself. Life is something to be used. Whether
or not it has been successfully used depends not on the results so
much as on the object sought and the earnestness of the seeking. It
is somewhat novel to find an American college president expounding
this philosophy to his students, but the philosophy is, on the whole,
helpful. It will spur to effort in crises where the desire for more
material success fails to provide a sufficient incentive.
A certain New York author is fond of his own work, and Robert W.
Chambers is responsible for the story that he called at one of the
libraries to find out how his latest book was going. He hoped to have
his vanity tickled a little.
"Is ---- in?" he said to the librarian, naming his book.
"It never was out," was the reply.
* * * * *
What is a great love of books? It is something like a personal
introduction to the great and good men of all past times. Books, it
is true, are silent as you see them on your shelves; but, silent as
they are, when I enter a library I feel almost as if the dead were
present, and I know if I put questions to these books they will
answer me with all the faithfulness and fullness which has been left
in them by the great men who have left the books with us.--_John
Bright._
* * * * *
The spring poet has been much exploited in the comic papers. The
would-be novelist has been plastered with signs and tokens until
one could not fail to recognize him in the dark. But the ordinary,
commonplace, experienced writer has been so shamefully neglected that
few realize his virtues. The editor recognizes his manuscript as far
off as he can see it, and seizes upon it with joy. The manuscript is
typewritten and punctuated. It bears the author's name and address
at the top of the first page. It is signed with the author's name
at the end. It is NOT tied with a blue ribbon. No, the blue ribbon
habit is not a myth. It really exists in every form from pale baby
to navy No. 4 and in every shape from a hard knot to an elaborate
rosette--_Munsey's._
XX.
THE LENGTHENING
LIST OF PATRONS
During the year 1906 the patrons of the Fiction Factory steadily
increased in number. _The Blue Book_, _The Red Book_, _The Railroad
Man's_, _The All-Story_, _The People's_--all these magazines bought of
the Factory's products, some of them very liberally. The old patrons,
also, were retained, Harte & Perkins taking a supply of nickel novels
and a Stella Edwards' serial for _The Guest_.
Edwards' introduction to _The Blue Book_ came so late in the year that
the business falls properly within the affairs of 1907. The first
step, however, was taken on Aug. 13, 1906, and was in the form of the
following letter:
"My dear Mr. Edwards:
Why don't you send me, with a view to publication in _The Blue Book_,
as we have renamed our old _Monthly Story Magazine_, one or more of
those weird and fantastic novelettes of yours? If you have anything
ready, let me see it. I can at least assure you of a prompt decision
and equally prompt payment if the story goes. Anything you may have
up to 6,000 words I shall be very glad to see for _The Red Book_.
Yours very truly,
"Karl Edwin Harriman."
Here was a pleasant surprise for Edwards. He had met Mr. Harriman the
year before in Battle Creek, Michigan. At that time Mr. Harriman was
busily engaged hiding his talents under a bushel known as _The Pilgrim
Magazine_. When the Red Book Corporation of Chicago, kicked the basket
to one side, grabbed Mr. Harriman out from under it and made off with
him, the aspect of the heavens promised great things for literature
in the Middle West. And this promise, by the way, is being splendidly
fulfilled.
When you take down your "Who's Who" to look up some personage
sufficiently notorious to have a place between its red covers, if you
find at the end of his name the words, "editor, author," you may be
sure that there is no cloud on the title that gives him a place in the
book. You will know at once that he must have been a good author or he
would never have been promoted from the ranks; and having been a good
author he is certainly a better editor than if the case were otherwise,
for he knows both ends of the publishing trade.
Having been through the mill himself, Mr Harriman has a fellow-feeling
for his contributors. He knows what it is to take a lay figure for a
plot, clothe it in suitable language, cap it with a climax and put it
on exhibition with a card: "Here's a Peach! Grab me quick for $9.99."
Harriman's "peaches" never came back. The author of "Ann Arbor Tales,"
"The Girl and the Deal," and others has been successful right from the
start.
No request for material received at the Edwards' Factory ever fails of
a prompt and hearty response. A short story and a novelette were at
once put on the stocks. They were constructed slowly, for Edwards could
give them attention only during odd moments taken from his regular
work. The short story was finished and submitted long in advance of the
novelette. This letter, dated Sept. 18, will show its success:
"My Dear Old Man: Why don't you run on here and see me, now and
again. Oh, yes, New York's a lot better, but we're doing things
here, too. About 'Cast Away by Contract,' it's very funny--such a
ridiculously absurd idea that it's quite irresistible. How will $75
be for it? O. K.? It's really all I can afford to pay for a story
of its sort, and I do want you in the book. Let me hear as soon as
possible and I will give it out to the artist.
Very truly yours,
"K. H."
And so began the business with Mr. Harriman. He still, at this writing
(1911), has a running account on the Factory's books and is held in
highest esteem by the proprietor.
A letter, written May 13, 1905, (a year dealt with in a previous
chapter), is reproduced here as having a weighty bearing on the events
of 1906. It was Edwards' first letter from a gentleman who had recently
allied himself with the Munsey publications. As a publisher Mr. F. A.
Munsey is conceded to be a star of the first magnitude, but this genius
is manifest in nothing so much as in his ability to surround himself
with men capable of pushing his ideas to their highest achievement.
Such a man had been added to his editorial staff in the person of Mr.
R. H. Davis. Mr. Davis, like Mr. Bryan, hails originally from Nebraska.
Although he differs somewhat from Mr. Bryan in political views, he
has the same powers as a spellbinder. He's Western, all through, is
"Bob" Davis, bluff, hearty and equally endowed with stories, snap and
sincerity.
"Dear Sir:
We would like to have a few pictures of those writers who have
contributed considerably to our various magazines. It is obvious that
this refers to you. Therefore, if you will send us a portrait it will
be greatly appreciated.
Very truly yours,
"R. H. Davis."
Mr. Davis got the picture; also a serial or two and some short stories
for new publications issued by the Munsey Company of which he was
editor. Late in 1905 he called for a railroad serial, and he wanted a
particularly good one.
Edwards had never tried his hand at such a story. He knew, in a general
way, that the "pilot" was on the front end of a locomotive, and that
the "tender" was somewhere in the rear, but his technical knowledge
was hazy and unreliable. The story, if accepted, was to appear in _The
Railroad Man's Magazine_, would be read by "railroaders" the country
over, and would be damned and laughed at if it contained any technical
"breaks."
Here was just the sort of a nut Edwards liked to crack. The perils of
the undertaking lent it a zest, and were a distinct aid to industry
and inspiration. He resolved that he would give Mr. Davis a story that
would bear the closest scrutiny of railroad men and win their interest
and applause. To this end he studied railroads, up and down and
across. He absorbed what he could from books, and the rest he secured
through personal investigation. When the story was done, he submitted
the manuscript to a veteran of the rails--one who had been both a
telegraph operator and engineer--and this gentleman had not a change to
suggest! Mr. Davis took the story aboard. While it was running in the
magazine a reader wrote in to declare that it must have been written
by an old hand at the railroad game: the author of the letter had been
railroading for thirty-five years himself, and felt positive that he
ought to know! "The Red Light at Rawlines" scored a triumph, proving
the value of study, and the ability to adjust one's self to an untried
situation.
Edwards had imbibed too much technical knowledge to exhaust it all on
one story, so he wrote another and sent it to Mr. White. The latter
informed him:
"I turned 'Special One-Five-Three' over to _The Railroad Man's
Magazine_ at once, without reading it, and they are sending you a
check for it this week, I understand. This does not mean that I did
not care to consider it for _The Argosy_. I certainly have an opening
for more of your stories, but when you took the railroad for your
theme and treated it so intelligently, I think it better that you
give _The Argosy_ some other subject matter."
Another story, written this year to order, also serves to show that
facility in handling strange themes or environments does not always
depend upon personal acquaintance with the subject in hand. Intelligent
study and investigation can many times, if not always, piece out a lack
of personal experience. Blazing a course through _terra incognita_ in
such a manner, however, is not without its dangers.
Harte & Perkins wished to begin the yearly volume of _The Guest_ with
a Stella Edwards serial. This story was to have, for its background,
the San Francisco earthquake. Nearly the whole action of the yarn was
to take place in the city itself. Edwards had never been there. He had
vague ideas regarding the "Golden Gate," Oakland and other places, but
for accurate knowledge he was as much at sea as in the case of the
railroad story. He set the wheels of industry to revolving, however,
and familiarized himself so thoroughly with the city from books,
newspapers and magazines that the editor of _The Guest_, an old San
Francisco newspaper man, had this to say about the story:
"It will please you to learn that we think 'A Romance of the
Earthquake' a very interesting story, with plenty of brisk action,
picturesque in description, and DISPLAYING A THOROUGH KNOWLEDGE OF
CALIFORNIA'S METROPOLIS AND VICINITY."
Although these are interesting problems to solve, yet Edwards, as a
rule, prefers dealing with material that has formed a part of his own
personal experiences.
His "prospecting" trip for the year brought him into New York on
Monday, Nov. 12. On Tuesday (his "lucky day," according to the Coney
Island seer of fateful memory), he called on Mr. White, and Mr. White
took him across the hall and introduced him to Mr. Davis. The latter
gentleman ordered four serials and, for stories of a certain length,
agreed to pay $500 each.
Next day Edwards dropped in at the offices of Street & Smith and
submitted a novelette--"The Billionaire's Dilemma"--to Mr. MacLean,
editor of _The Popular Magazine_ (Mr. Lewis having retired from that
publication some time before). Mr. MacLean carried the manuscript in
to Mr. Vivian M. Moses, editor of _People's_ and the latter bought it.
This story made a hit in the _People's_ and won from Mr. George C.
Smith, of the firm, a personal letter of commendation. Result: More
work for _The People's Magazine_.
About the middle of December, Edwards and his wife left for their
home in Michigan. They had been in the city a month, and during that
time Edwards had received $1150 for his Factory's products. The year,
financially, was the best Edwards had so far experienced; but it was to
be outdone by the year that followed.
During 1907 a great deal of writing was done for Mr. Davis. Among other
stories submitted to him was one which Edwards called, "On the Stroke
of Four." Regarding it Mr. Davis had expressed himself, May 6, in
characteristic vein:
"My dear Colonel:
Send it along. The title is not a bad one. I suppose it will arrive
at a quarter past five, as you are generally late....
Now that spring is here, go out and chop a few kindlings against the
canning of the fruit. This season we are going to preserve every dam
thing on the farm. In the meantime, put up a few bartletts for little
Willie. We may drop in provided the nest contains room."
He received an urgent invitation to "drop in." But he didn't. He
backed out. Possibly he was afraid he would have to "pioneer it" in
the country, after years of metropolitan luxury in the effete East. Or
perhaps he was afraid that Edwards might read some manuscripts to him.
Whatever the cause, he never appeared to claim the "bartletts," made
ready for him with so much painstaking care by Mrs. Edwards. But this
was not the only count in the indictment. He sent back "On the Stroke
of Four!" And this was his message:
"Up to page 106 this story is a peach. After that it is a peach, but
a rotten peach, and I'd be glad to have you fix it up and return it."
After Edwards has finished a story he has an ingrained dislike for
tampering with it any further. However, had he not been head over ears
in other work, he would probably have "fixed up" the manuscript for Mr.
Davis. In the circumstances, he decided to try its fortunes elsewhere.
Mr. Moses took it in, paid $400 for it, and pronounced it better than
"The Billionaire's Dilemma."
At a later date, Mr. Davis wanted another sea story for _Ocean_ which,
at that time, was surging considerably. "On the Stroke of Four" had
been designed to fill such an order. Inasmuch as it had failed,
Edwards wrote a second yarn which was accepted at $450.
The sea, and the people who go down to it in ships, to say nothing of
the ships themselves, were all out of Edwards' usual line. He prepared
himself by reading every sea story he could lay hands on, long or
short. He bought text-books on seamanship and navigation, and whenever
there were manoeuvers connected with "working ship" in a story, Edwards
puzzled them out with the help of the text-books. With both deep-water
serials he succeeded tolerably well. He is sure, at least, that he
didn't get the spanker-boom on the foremast, nor the jib too far aft.
Harte & Perkins again favored the Factory with an order for a "Stella
Edwards" to begin another volume of _The Guest_. This was an automobile
story, "The Hero of the Car," and was accepted and highly praised.
Another novelette, "An Aerial Romance," was bought by Mr. Moses for
_The People's Magazine_.
Beginning in March, Edwards had written some more nickel novels for
Harte & Perkins--not the old Five-Cent Weekly, for that he was never
to do again--but various stories, in odd lots, to help out with a
particular series. On July 14 he was switched to another line of
half-dime fiction, and this work he kept throughout the remainder of
the year.
For the two years the Factory's showing stands as follows:
1906:
18 nickel novels @ $50 each $ 900.00
Royalties on book, Dillingham 10.20
"The World's Wonder," 300.00
"A Romance of the Earthquake," 250.00
"The Sheriff Who Lost and Won," 300.00
"The Reporter's Scoop," 60.00
"The Deputy Sheriff," 40.00
"The Red Light at Rawlin's," 350.00
"Cast Away by Contract,". 75.00
"Special One-Five-Three," 350.00
"The Disputed Claim," 500.00
"Fencing with Foes," 450.00
"The Billionaire's Dilemma,". 200.00
--------
Total $3785.20
1907:
"Under Sealed Orders," $ 250.00
"The Pacific Pearlers," 450.00
"Call of the West," 200.00
"Wilderness Gold-Hunter," 500.00
"Dupes of Destiny," 75.00
"On the Stroke of Four," 400.00
"The Hero of the Car," 300.00
"An Aerial Romance," 200.00
"West-Indies Mix-Up," 60.00
33 nickel novels @ $50 each 1650.00
--------
Total $4085.00