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establishment of a Manuscript Club Department. The Manuscript Club was n't a new idea, but an old one that had been working with variable degrees of success in isolated places throughout the country. No one of influence had ever chosen to stand as its sponsor except locally. At first, I distrusted it. It had too many of the earmarks of amateurism. But the evidence began to pile up; here and there were isolated cases of truly astounding performances. While in some cases the application of the idea was amateurish and a rank failure, in others it was distinctly professional and entirely successful. Some of the reasons for failure and some of the reasons for success began to appear. Gradually, the assurance came that the manuscript club idea contained the essence of all that other things lacked, at least in so far as the practical needs of the writer were concerned. At its best, it was at once a jury of criticism, a clinical laboratory of talent, and a social organization of co-workers. But it was something a little more than that.

Not long ago I clipped, for my scrap book, this from a book review by Mr. H. L. Mencken: "Her style is not a mere gift of God; she acquired it by long and hard efforts to write advertisements that would fetch home the bacon. It suggests the thought that the American literati of tomorrow will probably come out of advertising offices, instead of out of newspaper offices as in the past. The advertisement copy-writers in fact have already gone far ahead of the reporters. They choose their words more carefully. They are better workmen if only because they have more time for good work. I predict formally that they will produce a great deal of the sound American literature of tomorrow."

While I do not join with some in proclaiming Mr. Mencken the complete oracle on literary matters, I believe that more good writers will come from the thousands engaged in writing of advertisements than from the tens of thousands who are working alone. It is perfectly clear that unless the training as workmen which advertisers are getting can be

duplicated for the proper development of the tens of thousands, our recruiting ground for the writers of tomorrow is restricted. Remember this: a regular stint of work under the lash of criticism done at a bench beside others similarly engaged is the mould of education that was used yesterday on the successful writers of today and is being used today on the education of the successful writers of tomorrow. The multiplication of such moulds throughout the nation must be one of the greatest possible services to American letters. The Manuscript Club Idea offers to accomplish this.

Has it any special significance viewed in relation to the present state of literature in America? The situation is admirably summed up by John Macy in "American Literature."

"American literature," he says, "is on the whole idealistic, sweet, delicate, nicely finished. In its artistic forms: poetry, fiction, and the drama, it lacks the vigor of our expository and argumentative writing. The essayists, expounders, and preachers attack life vigorously and wrestle with the meaning of it." But "the poets are thin, moonshiny, meticulous in technique. Novelists are few and feeble, and dramatists are non-existent. It is hard to explain why the American, except in his exhortatory and passionately argumentative moods, has not struck deep into American life, why his stories are, for the most part, only pretty things, nicely unimportant."

The explanation is not so difficult. Any man will start an argument with you. If you win it, you have confidence to sit down and write it out for the magazines. But it's harder to find anyone willing to discuss with you if you have a subject fit for artistic treatment and whether you have treated it in an original way. Therefore you have no confidence in yourself as an artist, however highly you may rate yourself as a debater.

Mr. Macy continues: "The Jason of western exploration writes as if he had passed his life in a library. The Ulysses of great rivers and perilous seas is a connoisseur of Japanese

prints. The warrior of 'Sixty-one' rivals Miss Marie Corelli. The mining engineer carves cherry stones. He who is figured as gaunt, hardy, and aggressive, conquering the desert with the steam locomotive, sings of a pretty little rose in a pretty little garden. The judge, haggard with experience, who presides over the most tragi-comic divorce court ever devised by man, writes love stories that would have made Jane Austen smile.

"Mr. Arnold Bennett is reported to have said that if Balzac had seen Pittsburgh, he would have cried: 'Give me a pen!' The truth is, the whole country is crying out for those who will record it, satirize it, chant it. As literary material, it is virgin land, ancient as life and fresh as a wilderness. American literature is one occupation which is not overcrowded, in which, indeed, there is all too little competition for the newcomer to meet. There are signs that some earnest young writers are discovering the fertility of a soil that has scarcely been scratched."

I wonder if most of these earnest young writers have really discovered the fertility of our national soil. Else why are they so busily spreading manure over it? When I think of modern literature in terms of symbols, I see an innocent young college girl, quivering with a shame-faced desire to be smart, offering to the editor of a confessional magazine some horrid "true story" that she had created entirely out of her imagination and that none but she will ever know she has written.

Until we can get over being ashamed of our pursuit of truth we shall never succeed in making any contribution to the standing literature of the English language. Self-conscious, shame-faced expression of eroticism is not the truth although it may be the apparent fad of the day.

too much a revolution, too little an evolution. It is supported among book-buyers and magazine readers by scattered individuals who enjoy being shocked, rather than by any representative group of intelligent people. Therefore the whole invigorating modern movement is likely to be stranded unless the writers who feel its influence to dare greatly are forced to take on the burden of convincing a small representative group that this daring expresses itself in terms of art.

I have just finished reading through the Copeland Reader. Among the modern selections, I found an editorial by William Allen White which appeared in his newspaper, the Emporia (Kansas) Gazette. It was about the death of his daughter Mary. It wasn't written for the world at large-only for the Emporia folks who had known her. It truthfully described scenes, accurately told facts that everybody in Emporia knew. And because it did that and because it gave those scenes and facts a simple spiritual interpretation, it burns deep into the reader who has never seen Emporia. If I were a writer living in Emporia - or anywhere else - I would take that lesson to heart. I would try to form an Emporia Manuscript Club. The most promising young reporter on the Gazette, the best advertisment writer roundabout, others like myself interested in writing, perhaps one of the local English teachers, and the local librarian would be asked to join. I should try to write with courage and truth about Emporia - not Italy or Spain - what would interest, first of all, this group, and secondly, the general reading public. And if I did n't succeed myself, I'd hope some other member of the group might.

While the possibilities of co-operative effort in writing, through the Manuscript Club, In my opinion our search after vitality and have by no means been exhausted by this truth as against mere prettiness will not take brief discussion, enough has perhaps been said us far, unless writers are made conscious of to indicate my grounds for believing that the an intelligent constituency of readers which manuscript club idea is one of the greatest must be persuaded of the artistic justification potential forces in American literature today. of every step we take away from the old It offers the solution to most of the practical standards. The "new movement" now seems problems of the free-lance writer and it dup

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licates in principle the most successful type of professional training, thus expanding the recruiting-ground and the proving-ground for our creative writers of tomorrow. In addition it offers to control and guide a promising new movement toward the development of a native American literature. But all that I have said would be in the realm of theory and opinion had not the manuscript club idea already proved its vitality and soundness in many places throughout the country, in spite of the lack of national support and sponsorship. Oddly enough, the number of such clubs has at least doubled during the past year through the influence of the Manuscript Club Department in THE WRITER, which, up to this time, has been frankly an experiment and has received no editorial support.

The manuscript club is not primarily a social (in the sense of "society") organization. It is a society of workers. It is not a literary club gathering to hear lectures by famous poets and authors. It confines itself chiefly to the business of criticizing the work of its members and suggesting markets for this work. Manuscripts are usually read by the secretary without revealing the name of the author, which at once relieves him of embarrassment and makes the discussion more candid than otherwise it might be. In some clubs the question of anonymity is left at the option of the author.

Usually, the emphasis is placed too much on criticism, to the exclusion of the problem of selling the literary output of the members. Let me state here that I am far more interested in the development of native American literature than in the financial rewards of any one, or all, of the readers of THE WRITER. On the other hand, I stand firmly on the ground that good literature always has had, and always will have, an intimate connection with the business of publishing. To deny the commercial side its proper place is to encourage amateurish self-expression which is as bad as amateurish psycho-analysis. That way lies the suicide of talent, and of individuality.

It seems, therefore, advisable to establish a regular policy of calling for suggestions from the floor as to possible markets after a manuscript has been read and criticized. More than that, each member should be assigned a group of publishers and magazines for careful study. Publishers' catalogues reveal the type of material used and often indicate receptiveness to the work of new authors. The study of sample copies of magazines will yield valuable results if detailed notes are made of the types of stories, articles, fillers, special departments, etc. A group of ten people, or less, by dividing all the leading magazines of the country among themselves and each studying his share, may soon qualify as an advisory council on marketing problems of great co-operative value. Samples of magazines not sold on the local news-stands can be obtained by sending stamps to the publishers, whose latest addresses are given in THE FREE LANCE WRITER'S HANDBOOK.

There is a manuscript club in Richmond, Virginia, which is in most respects typical of many scattered throughout the country. Mrs. Eudora Ramsay Richardson relates that it was organized three years ago by a group of ten, only two of whom had previously written for publication.

"Of that original number," she says, "only two are still in the non-selling class, and they are there because for them writing is a pastime infrequently enjoyed. The new members added from time to time are those selling or those showing indications of immediate breaking into print. The markets attained include all the syndicates using short fiction, many of the all-fiction magazines, and a number of the other popular magazines of wide general circulation. Scribner's, the Ladies' Home Journal, Collier's, Holland's, Success, Travel, the Modern Priscilla, Argosy, many smaller magazines, and several of the best known children's magazines and papers are among the markets to which members of the club have recently sold manuscripts.

"The club meets every other week, listens to the reading of two stories, and criticizes

with lack of restraint and often with violence. It exists for the purpose of lifting the quality of our work and the volume of our sales. Misery's proverbially gregarious nature and the desire to alleviate our own suffering brought about the initial cohesion, but the mutual help we are receiving is perpetuating the club.

"One can not say accurately, of course, to what extent our bi-monthly gatherings are responsible for the degree of our success, modest though that degree may be. Some of us, if stranded on that over-advertised desert island, would continue to write- certainly if the postman passed now and then and probably if he did n't. Still, upper lips are stiffened and backbones strengthened by contact with other unfortunates who must choose between being very miserable not writing or moderately miserable writing. Centering upon the latter and somewhat lesser evil is easier when inspiration is reinforced by the human tendency toward emulation. Whenever one of our members makes a good sale, the rest of us work with determination fiercer than ever.

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"Unquestionably, the club's criticisms are helpful. We get exactly what every writer an audience, which, even when unfavorable, must sit through the performance. Albeit not in specie or in fame, the reward is very definite and comforting. And we do get specific suggestions for revision that increase our chances of selling, and many of the general criticisms help us at the next time of effort. We are able often through market advice of our fellow members and estimates placed on our stories to make up a list of

magazines to which a manuscript may be sent with a chance of sticking.

"Therefore, all in all, with certain reservations and a number of discounts, I can truthfully say that The Student-Writer Club has done its work well or well enough for none of us to consider junking it."

In the next issue of THE WRITER, and in succeeding issues, will be discussed the details of organization, the origins and experiences of successful clubs, special types of clubs, experiments in co-operative marketing, library co-operation, club headquarters, a suggested local clearing house of information for those anxious to form or join clubs, the making of contacts with editors, the professional advisor, a possible national union of clubs, and a number of similar points. For the present it is perhaps enough to suggest the need for local co-operation among writers, to warn writers that no other agency can in any large way perform the same service, and to indicate some of the general aspects of the manuscript club movement as it is typically exemplified in existing clubs.

In order to further the investigation of the present status of the co-operative movement among writers by the collection of additional information, a complete directory of Manuscript Clubs, Writers' Club, and Literary Clubs is now being compiled. It is my intention to address to all of them a questionnaire in the near future. May I, therefore, broadcast the request that the name and address of one responsible member or officer of each existing, or newly formed, club be sent me at once?

(To be continued)

TH

The Short Story

Cases in Craftsmanship, No. 12

A POINT OF HONOR

A Story by WILKESON O'CONNELL, analyzed by JOHN GALLISHAW

FOR the twelfth of his series of analyzed short-stories, Mr. Gallishaw selects one which deals with a situation calling upon the main character to make a decision between two possible courses of action.

HEY looked at each other wretchedly across the laden breakfast-table.

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"Gad, then I wish you'd mention what it is!" returned Sir Harry.

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"I figured that if there was to be any word from him today it would come through here, at Paulus Hook, and thought to meet it, should it come," said the general. "Twas truly generous in Major Kinsley to put his breakfast at our service, 14 28 while he rode empty to the outposts to see

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