WEIRD TALES is not merely “another new magazine.” It’s a brand new type
of new magazine--a sensational variation from the established rules
that are supposed to govern magazine publishing.
WEIRD TALES, in a word, is unique. In no other publication will you
find the sort of stories that WEIRD TALES offers in this issue--and
will continue to offer in the issues to come. Such stories are tabooed
elsewhere. We do not know why. People like to read this kind of
fiction. There’s no gainsaying that. Nor does the moral question of
“good taste” present an obstacle. At any rate, the stories in this
issue of WEIRD TALES will not offend one’s moral sense, nor will the
stories we’ve booked for subsequent issues. Some of them may horrify
you: and others, perhaps, will make you gasp at their outlandish
imagery: but none, we think, will leave you any the worse for having
read it.
We do believe, however, that these stories will cause you to forget
your surroundings--remove your mind from the humdrum affairs of the
workaday world--and provide you with exhilarating diversion. And, after
all, isn’t that the fundamental purpose of fiction?
Our stories are unlike any you have ever read--or perhaps ever will
read--in the other magazines. They are unusual, uncanny, unparalleled.
We have no space in WEIRD TALES for the “average magazine story.”
Unless a story is an extraordinary thing, we won’t consider it.
If the letters we have already received, and are still receiving (weeks
before the magazine goes to press), are an augury of success, then
WEIRD TALES is on the threshold of a tremendously prosperous career.
Some of these letters are accompanied by subscriptions, others request
advertising rates and specimen copies; all predict great things for
us and express enthusiastic anticipation of “something different” in
magazine fiction.
Anthony M. Rud, whose amazing novelette, “Ooze,” appears in this issue,
wrote to us as follows:
“Dear Mr. Baird: Delighted to hear that you contemplate WEIRD TALES!
I hope you put it through--and without compromise. Stories of horror,
of magic, of hypernatural experience, strike home zestfully to nine
readers out of ten. There is no other magazine of this sort. Yarns
somewhat of the type published in book form--for instance, ‘The Grim
Thirteen’--invariably are recommended from one reader to a fellow,
with gusto.
“WEIRD TALES need not be immoral in slightest degree. Fact, ninety
from one hundred generally contain wholesome moral, at least,
derivable. Even studies of paranoia or fear hysteria, pure and simple,
generally are clean from start to finish. The Poe type of yarn
invariably makes me shiver--and then for a week I prefer the grape-nut
road, shunning the dark places after curfew. But I come back avidly
for more shock!
“I wrote a story ’way back in college days, which three editors have
proclaimed the best horror yarn they have read. The story I have with
me now. It has been most thoroughly declined--and now, myself, I see
many amateurish spots. I cherish the yarn, however, for of all the
millions of published words I have written I consider this idea and
its development my most finished work.
“I’ll write that story for you--thus far called ‘The Square of
Canvas’--again from start to finish, and polish it as I would polish
a jewel. The amount of money involved is no spur; I’d like to have it
printed, even gratis. My honest hunch is that, when all is said and
done, you’ll like this yarn as well as any of your choice five.
“Please put me down as a subscriber to the new magazine. I am buried
deep in the heart of piney woods, 36 miles from the nearest news-stand
selling even a Sunday paper, and I want to make sure of seeing each
issue of WEIRD TALES.
“It’s a corking title, and it will get all the boosting I can give.
Herewith a clipping of my last platform appearance. I told ’em of the
coming magazine, and that it offered a field of reading unique. At
Atlanta and Montgomery, where I speak later in the winter, I’ll give
the sheet a hand. I have two more dates in Mobile, and I’ll mention
your project.
“In a month or so I’ll fix up ‘A Square of Canvas’ and shoot it in for
consideration for WEIRD TALES.”
We got “A Square of Canvas” and promptly read it--and it will appear
in the next issue of WEIRD TALES. Don’t miss it! It’s all that Mr. Rud
says it is, and more besides! It’s a terrifying, hair-raising tale, and
no mistake! It’s a bear! You can read it in twenty minutes, but those
twenty minutes will fairly bristle!
Of “The Dead Man’s Tale,” which opens this issue, Willard E. Hawkins
wrote us:
“...The idea for that story came to me in a flash one evening
when my wife and I were returning from the theatre. I outlined the
whole thing to her, and followed that outline without deviation in
writing the story later. It struck me that I had never seen the
Dr.-Jekyll-and-Mr.-Hyde type of situation developed from the point of
the obsessing entity, and I was fascinated by the attempt to do it.”
And we think you’ll agree that Mr. Hawkins did a mighty fine job.
We assume you’ve read the stories in this, our first issue, before
arriving upon this page back here, and we are eager to know what you
think of them. Why not write and tell us? Mention the stories you
liked, and those you didn’t like, and tell us what you think of our
attempt to do something new and different in the magazine field. We
shall be delighted to hear from you; and we will print your letters on
this page--unless you decree otherwise.
If you get the next issue of WEIRD TALES--as we hope you will--you’ll
read some strange and remarkable stories. Elsewhere in this number
we’ve told you something about these stories, and we need only add here
that each is a striking example of unusual fiction. Whatever effect
they may have upon you--whether they make you shudder or set your
nerves tingling pleasurably--we can emphatically promise you this:
You will not be bored!