As to “literary methods,” Mrs. Wilcox has few suggestions to make,
except to recommend hard work, conscientiously performed. She is
untiring in her own efforts at rewriting, revising and polishing her
productions, and cannot rest until every appearance of crudeness and
carelessness is effaced. Her manuscripts are always neat, always
carefully considered, and never prepared in undue haste. She believes
that no writer can succeed who is a pessimist. She is, therefore, an
optimist of the most pronounced type, and believes that all poems
should be helpful not hurtful; full of hope, and not of despair; bright
with faith, and not clouded by doubt.
“What is your view of the first duties of a young author?” she was
asked, and replied:
“The first thing necessary for you to do is to find out your own motive
in choosing a literary career. If you write as the young bird sings,
you need no advice from me, for your thoughts will find their way out,
as natural springs force their way through rocks, and nothing can
hinder you. But if you have merely a well-defined literary ability and
taste, you should consider carefully before undertaking the difficult
task of authorship.
“An author should be able to instruct, entertain, guide or amuse his
readers. Otherwise, he has no right to expect their attention, time
or money. If it is merely a question of money, you would be wise to
wait until you have a comfortable income, sufficient to maintain life
during the first ten years of literary pursuits. Save in rare cases of
remarkable genius, literature requires ten years of apprenticeship, at
least, before yielding support to its followers. But be sure that you
help,—not harm, humanity. To the author, of all men, belongs the motto,
‘_Noblesse oblige_.’”