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Editorial and Business Offices at 1430 MASSACHUsetts Avenue, CAMBRIDGE, MASS.
Unsolicited manuscripts, if not accompanied by stamped and addressed envelopes, will not be
returned and the Editors will not enter into correspondence about them.
Entered at the Boston Postoffice as Second Class Mail Matter.

Subscription postpaid, $3.00 per year; foreign, $3.36. Advertising Rates on Request.
Note to Subscribers: Notice of change of address, stating both OLD and NEW address, must
be received not later than the 5th of the month. Otherwise the next issue will go to the OLD ad-
dress, and subscriber should send necessary postage to his postmaster to forward to new address.

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ARISTAN CHAPMAN of Sewanee, Tennessee, represents the type of subscriber who is thrice welcome to THE WRITER circle. In the midst of a busy career as housewife and author, she finds time to show her interest in all writers by sending constructive suggestions, as readers of her contributions to the magazine know. It is therefore a special pleasure to hear that her first novel, "The Happy Mountain," which will be published August 6, has been chosen by the judges of the Literary Guild to send to their fifty thousand members. A glance at the advance copy which has just reached us shows that Mrs. Chapman has again chosen for subjects the southern highlanders about whom she wrote when her first story was accepted by the Atlantic Monthly recently:

My object is to show a class of people, too long looked upon only as a class, to be live and knowing individuals; to make their eyes the eyes through which the outlander may see their world, and, thus seeing, experience an understanding kinship with them, and at the same time feel a sense of adventure for himself in seeing an unexplored corner of life.

The early success of Mrs. Chapman's first work again proves the possibilities open to the writer who interprets everyday material with the eye of the true artist, whose duty, as Lord Dunsany aptly says, "is to point out any

of the eternal verities rather than anything that he has himself elaborately constructed. So that it is nothing complicated that the dramatist or any artist has to show, but rather something very simple, however great, that had somehow been overlooked in the rush of all the daily trivialities that sweep over modern life."

We should like some day to publish a record of the newspapers outside of the large cities which have been a constructive force in American affairs for the past half century. Foremost among them, we feel sure, would be the Cambridge Tribune, which has completed its fiftieth year of publication. An interesting feature of the Fiftieth Anniversary Number is a report from the Irish Free State Legation on City Manager Government in Dublin and Cork. The Cambridge Tribune is an active exponent of this form of government. We congratulate Mrs. J. Lee Robinson, the present publisher, upon continuing so successfully the Tribune's high standard of excellence in its news, editorial, and special feature columns. To quote a letter from the Governor of Massachusetts: "Its progressiveness, its foresight, and its broad-gauge appeal for civic and community interest, has met with deserved success."

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A TEN-DOLLAR prize is awarded each month for the best letter published in this department.

Editor, the Forum:

YOUR NO'S KNOW

Not many moons ago an article of mine entitled "The Polite Refusal" appeared in The Step Ladder, that enterprising little Chicago publication sponsored by the Bookfellows; it was a brief discussion on that topic important to most writers, the Rejection Slip. Unfortunately the article had been accepted almost three years before it was published, and as a consequence, was slightly out of date by the time when it viewed the light of day, if the light of day is visible in Chicago. Needless to say, the issue proved a very live one; Harry Hansen in the New York World gave considerable attention to it. The editors of the Forum published a witty letter on the subject, and the fight was on. Therefore, it is with great interest that I add to my remarks on rejections, the results of more mature experience and a wider collection.

Once before, we made note of the discursive tendencies of Harper's erstwhile rejection slip, personally signed by the entire Harper and Brothers, in their own distinctive autograph. What author would not treasure the autograph of so illustrious a family as this; and to think what marvelous coördination is exerted, when an entire family can join in one chirographic masterpiece. Alas, that Shakespeare and Button Gwinnett did not train their folks to sign their names in toto! Let us follow Edna St. Vincent Millay's invocation to her Muse in "The King's Henchman," and cry with her, "O Harper!" Much more concise is the slip of the Cosmopolitan, two lines in length; truly brevity is the sole of wit and returneth with a swift kick. Good Housekeeping is one of the few publications which allow the editor's name to appear on the slip; the expressive card is unusual in that it declares every manuscript offered is read "in the hope that it will prove available." Truly Mr. Bigelow's hope must be like the proverbial leaven, in its resilient buoyancy.

Perhaps you write stuff that would look well reposing between vegetable soups and refrigerators in the luxuriant atmosphere of cigarettes and Lincolns. If so, you would be glad to see the neat little letter of the Saturday Evening Post, carefully mimeographed, and undated or addressed. More typical is the folded paper of the New Yorker, bearing a swanky typographical box of

regrets in the center of the sheet, surmounted by a gent of the Gay Nineties looking very mauve. It has always been a source of regret to me that the editors of Life did not put something amusing on their return slip; they even omit the classic remark of "While there's Life, there's hope." Many magazines, such as the Century (after most of the 100 years elapse) state that Papa's manuscript does not "exactly meet our needs at the moment," implying that when Clotho has spun her yarn longer, one might try again. In such a vein is the refusal of the New Republic.

Some day I hope to buy out an entire edition of Munsey's composite slips on buff paper, numbered Form 26-5,000. Just think of owning an entire edition, for the small sum of $100 in stamps on return envelopes! One could never do that with Mr. Ben Musser's publications; he uses one composite slip for Contemporary Verse, The Monitor, Palo Verde, and several other poetry magazines with which he is editorially connected. Musser is, himself, a collector of rejections, having his studio walls and ceiling plastered with them! Even Bozart, the Bi-monthly Poetry Review which is under my editorial guidance, has a rejection slip a favorite with the ladies. It's pink, with orchid ripples!

When evening falls and night breaks, and little Willy and Susy cry for a bedtime tale, why not play the sandman and read the little ones to sleep from the fairy tales on your rejection slips; thus you will teach the children a valuable lesson. They will honor and respect you when they learn how many editors write Papa awfully personal little notes saying: "We are sorry we cannot find your verses especially diagnosed to our editorial emergency, as we are overstocked, indisposed, have insomnia (omit any two)."

After all, Papa can feel comforted when he gathers all of his rejections together; they will admit, nine tenths of them, that no lack of merit, but an editorial emergency prevented the use of the cherished lucubration. So Papa hopefully erases the fingerprints of the last editor and bundles his composition off to the editor of Artists and Models, never having seen the magazine, and trusting to its appreciation of true art. Atlanta, Ga. Ernest Hartsock.

Editor, the Forum:

ANOTHER SORT OF NOTEBOOK

My notebook meets all the requirements—it is small, instantly available, inexpensive; lends itself well to filing purposes, and takes care of the many subjects about which one may be gathering material at one time.

I have had a dozen different notebooks, now stored away in closets, bookcases, and pigeonholes. They were the bright ideas of other days, tried for a time and found wanting.

The notebook I have used for two years, and expect to use hereafter, is a number of blank cards, stiff enough not to get bent in the pocket. They happen to measure 3" x 5". One side has some printing on it, as the cards are salvaged from somebody's discontinued card-index file. At first I encircled them-fifteen or so- with a rubber band, but that only hinders quick action. In use, I pull the whole bunch out of my hip pocket, write on the top one - they are stiff enough to need no flat support-slip the used card onto the bottom of the deck, and go about my business. Should the next note-taking occasion be upon a different subject, no matter; proceed as before, and classify the cards later.

Every few days I go through the accumulation of used cards and file them in a card index ideas for articles here, for verses there, and so on. The ones I have in my pocket this minute include eight "germs" for articles, one resumé of a sample magazine, three notes of photographic hints I want

Editor, the Forum:

to try in my darkroom, and one bearing a list of vacant apartments.

When going out for an interview I take an extra fat pocketful, and a couple of spare cards in a side pocket where I can get at them to note the spelling of a name, or some such item, without unduly delaying the game. The others remain untouched until after the interview is over, but then- ! Everything I can remember goes down, one item only on a card, as fast as I can scribble. I never studied penmanship in school, an omission which is a great advantage; by this time I am so accustomed to bad writing that cold notes have no terrors. Riding home in the street car I remember other things my man said, and down they all go, regardless of importance or sequence.

When it comes time to write the story, these cards are arranged in proper sequence and they serve admirably as an outline. There being only one thought on each, it is simple to shuffle them around until they tell their story in connected fashion. Then, as I rattle the typewriter keys, I keep one card before me until its message, with all the associated thoughts that it calls to mind, has been set down upon the page. Then that card is turned over and the process repeated with the remaining cards until the story is finished.

I pass this idea along for what it may be worth to fellow note-takers. John F. Hayes.

Chicago, Ill.

SHORT CUTS TO YOUR GOAL

After a considerable period of free-lancing, during which time I've sold over 170 manuscripts, I've evolved certain labor-saving devices and systems which seem to me worth passing on.

Much has been said, pro and con, anent the feasibility of keeping stipulated hours. I've tried both methods. I believe regular, business-like hours advisable. Often I've written from one to three salable stories selling from lc to 21⁄2c a word on days when I had to drive myself to the typewriter. It is a matter of enthusiasm. A childlike enthusiasm should be cultivated for all things. Especially for life. I completely lose myself in a story once begun no matter how hard that beginning.

A schedule helps one to start work. I schedule a week in advance, planning some new work each night for a day eight days in the future. When that day's work is planned, it is time to meditate on work for the morrow. I find it good practice to have about seven days' work ahead in my mind all the time. In that way I give my work sufficient thought. Abortive stories are then less common. Serials, of course, require more than a week's consideration to be clearly conceived.

usually do, I extend myself to the utmost during the nine or ten hours that I work daily. Over a yearly period I averaged 92,500 words monthly. If a monthly quota of words interferes with quality, then budget it by hours or stories or some other means.

Accessibility of materials saves time. Before me on my desk is a large, loose-leaf notebook serving myriad purposes. Therein is a monthly schedule of work done, a section containing 300-odd short story ideas, clever remarks, beautiful phraseology, and a record of sales at rates varying from 3 to 10c a word. The schedule of work done is a ruled sheet headed by the name of the month. On it are the following columns: Date, Trips, Manuscript Number, Title, Sold Words, Number of Words, Daily Total, Cumulative Total, Date Sold and Amount. It is a very complete informational system in concise form. I can learn anything regarding a certain story by referring to this record - even down to the number of submissions before acceptance or the sale price.

For a record of submissions in journal form I refer to my card index. Each card contains the following information: Name of Manuscript, Number of Words, Number of the Manuscript, Date When Written all of which is found on the top line. Seven columns give additional information: Name of Magazines to Which Submitted, Sent,

Besides budgeting day and week, I also roughly budget my month, attempting to do 100.000 words a month. Since this is slightly more than I can

Returned, Accepted, Paid, Amount, and Remarks. When the manuscript is sold, the card moves to the inactive file.

Writing paper and envelopes repose on the broad window-sill to my left. A rubber stamp is used on the envelopes.

Next consider my typewriter. Formerly it jarred across the desk, knocking off papers. Now holes bored for the four legs prevent this annoyance. I never hunt an eraser. It's attached to the front bar of the typewriter by a rubber band and snaps back into place after use.

Dictionary, synonym and simile books, a sponge

Editor, the Forum:

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A QUIZ FOR BEGINNERS

To every writer, especially the beginner, there has arisen a number of questions referring to his problems. Certainly, ever since I began my writing, floods of questions have inundated me. Therefore I have made it an unfailing practice to collect these questions and set them down in order. This helped me. It should help others. I hope so. Following are four questions and answers from my set.

Question. Should I make a record of any plots

or themes that come to me?

Answer. Jot down your ideas the instant they be

come formed. Marshal them in soldierly array. Do not let them become your idle, whimsical masters. But train them to be your willing servants, to come forth at your command in the form of briefly written notes, practical, workable, money-making ideas.

Question. What shall I do if I cannot find an ending to my plot? Answer. If a plot refuses to be solved with a sat

isfactory dénouement, turn away from it, free your mind from any outlining or scheming, and eventually a satisfying answer will flash into your mind if you do not barricade or paralyze your creative sense with self-conscious effort.

Question. Is it worth while to sell my work to the lesser magazines?

Answer. If you are a beginner, you should not think that your work is superior to the lesser type of magazine. The first-class magazines rarely encourage the raw beginner for the simple reason that his work usually does not contain the necessary finish and sophistication that is desired. If your work contains any promise whatsoever, the lesser type of magazine will discover it and give you the experience necessary to enter the foremost literary magazines. Question. When I repeatedly send out a manuscript after faithfully revising it, and by the third or fourth time I look it over, it seems worthless, is it because I am tired of it, or have I progressed in my writing?

Answer. You have done both. Because you have polished and repolished your manuscript every time it is rejected, you grow supersensitive over the mechanism; every whirring wheel, every bolt, and screw becomes rusty and misused to you. And each time you write a piece of creative work you progress along the path of literary effort. Sometimes your improvement is so noticeable that your former efforts seem inane. Provincetown, Mass.

Jesse W. Hughes.

The readers of THE WRITER are invited to contribute to this department, discussing articles appearing in THE WRITER, or making helpful suggestions to writers. Letters should be addressed to "The Writer's Forum." Short letters (not over 500 words) are preferred.

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The Manuscript Market

THIS information as to the present special needs of various periodicals comes directly from the editors. Particulars as to conditions of prize offers should be sought from those offering the prizes. Before submitting manuscripts to any periodical, writers should examine a copy of the magazine in question.

ADVENTURE- Butterick Publishing Co., Butterick Bldg., New York, needs short stories, and novelettes of about 25,000 words rather than serials just now. Western stories which show real character development, genuine atmosphere and setting, and humanly emotional situations would be particularly acceptable. THE AMERICAN HOME-Doubleday, Doran & Company, Garden City, N. Y., will appear in the early fall, displacing Garden and Home Builder. Mrs. Ellen D. Wangner, the editor, is planning for articles on all phases of the building, equipment, decoration, and furnishing of the friendly, livable, average home, rather than the mansion. Articles should run from 1,200 to 1,800 words and be accompanied by photographs. Payment on acceptance at a minimum rate of 12 cents a word and $3 to $5 for photographs.

ARGOSY ALL-STORY WEEKLY-280 Broadway, New York, is now edited by A. H. Bittner, former editor of Frontier Stories, and is in the market for stories with rapid-fire action and strong masculine appeal. The love element should not be unduly stressed. Short stories should run from 3,000 to 6,000 words; novelettes from 15,000 to 25,000; and serials up to 70,000 words.

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Minn., will add a new scientific magazine to their list in the early fall, for which contributions are now being accepted. Material desired: brief articles, written in non-technical English, illustrated with photographs if possible, on new developments in aviation, radio, motors, automobiles, inventions, patents, model building, etc.; and short stories, 3,0008,000 words, of the Jules Verne type, with mechanical settings and plenty of exciting action. Payment on acceptance at 12 cents a word and up for fiction, a liberal rate for articles according to material, and $3 up for photographs.

FICTION HOUSE-271 Madison Avenue, New York, asks for the following material for their various magazines: for Action Stories, short Western or adventure yarns, a complete Western novel in 25,000 words, no novelettes at present; for both Air Stories and Wings, complete air-adventure novels laid anywhere except, just now, the Orient, and short humorous air stories in 4,000 to 6,000 words; for the new Fight Stories, tales of the prize

DETECTIVE FICTION WEEKLY-280 Broadway, New York, formerly Flynn's Weekly,

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