how much it had brought me. During those years of illness, it provided me with a delightful and easy occupation, which did something at least toward strengthening the thread of life and preserving me from the weariness and monotony of despair. It has added greatly to the extent, variety, and scope of my vocabulary, taught me something of how to pack a large load of thought into a small vehicle, and unquestionably it has purified and exalted my ideals and tastes.

If one writes poetry as an interesting diversion or hobby, if one thinks of his poems as flowers planted in a cool fragrant garden for the pure pleasure they excite in him and for the delight of his friends, giving little heed to their market value then I believe that the laborious yet happy hours spent in their cultivation are altogether profitable. Vinton A. Holbrook.

Los Angeles, Calif.

Editor, the Forum:

I hate beating about the bush, so I'll tell you right at the outset why I have come carrying my empty basket across all the long miles between Jones, Oklahoma, and Boston, Mass.

I want a story!

I can hear the rocking-chair, magazine-reading brigade exclaim in astonishment: "A story! Why, in all the history of the world, stories were never more plentiful.”

Ah yes! Too plentiful - but not of the type I'm hungering for. My days are long and tedious. At the end of the day's work, if I hasten through the evening meal, there are two hours, all mine, for reading. But I am too fagged for deep reading or study. I want to be entertained, brightened up, lifted into a different atmosphere. Where shall I turn for the small favor I ask - surely not to the much-talked-of stories of recent years. Every town has its subdued, mediocre old maids, living with silly married sisters, pouting mothers. and repulsive brothers-in-law. Main streets abound everywhere. Babbitts walk even our village streets. In the story I picked up this evening, a lonely, homely little girl, child of two invalids, has a miserable, starved childhood, and a wrecked womanhood. I go to bed more depressed than when I came in from my day's work.

I don't want these wonderful, true-to-life stories -if this is life! I want the old style story. with good, beautiful women, strong, chivalrous men, happy children, homes full of content and peace. If there aren't any such things any more. give me some fiction. I'm tired of the truth! That is, if truth must be all drab, and unlovely, and disquieting.

In years gone by. I had the habit of browsing about in the bound-volume section of the home town library, finding the sort of story I craved. But the home town is a thousand miles away from Jones, Oklahoma. The nearest library is twenty miles away, and my hours off duty are also the librarian's so what am I to do?

Editor, the Forum:

Oh for some novels where ladies run straight, where children are legitimate, and where the author does not labor hard to make vice splendid, - some novels where the author believes with his whole

The world is fairly seething with authors. Won't some of them take pity on me? Can't some of them be beguiled into leaving the true-tolife type long enough to spin me a tale that will wipe out the pettiness of the day, and send me to bed with a song in my heart, to sleep the sort of sleep which helps with the next day's pettiness?

If ten of you would write one such story each month, that would almost supply me with restful reading, for often my two hours must be taken for mending or darning. I could mend or darn to memories of bright stories read at other times.

I wonder how it would work to capture about seven of the world's best writers, shut 'em up, treat 'em well, feed 'em yeast, shredded wheat, fish, any or every kind of known brain food, and then say unto them, gently but firmly: “NOW WRITE! Give us love stories, with the love left in, give us stories of employers who do not fall in love with their stenographers, give us stories of married life without the triangle, give us stories of parents and children, with parents in the ascendency! Do you get my idea? Write something fittin' for tired folk to read."

If some of you readers will go in with me on this venture, we will organize at once, and call the body "A society for the prevention of trueto-life tales." We might take for our emblem the frying pan. In the background a ball and chain, couchant, in the foreground, a pair of wings, rampant! This would indicate to the world of writers that we will no longer submit to being chained to the commonplace. We might take for our slogan: "All birds who can sing-but only croak shall be made to sing!"

We really don't want to adopt such strenuous measures. We'd much rather have you volunteer to write real cheering fiction.

I'm not asking much—just a few cheerful stories not true to life, if life is all gray and sordid, and its characters all commonplace. I WANT A STORY!

patibilities, thrown together as into some witch's cauldron, and generally so vague as to mean little or nothing. Human foibles, shockingly caricatured, are revolting, silly, and tiresome reading. Give me a list of even ten novels, written within

Editor, the Forum:

What writer has not sensed that keen feeling of despair on receiving a manuscript back, believing honestly it is good but without the slightest hint as to what was wrong? The merest mention of the reason would be more welcome than the mute, inglorious "thank you" that tells nothing and leaves no encouragement.

When an editor gives a suggestion toward the improvement of a manuscript, it is like balm to a wound. I had such an experience with one of the most prominent western story magazines. Answering my query as to his interest in a certain historical event, the editor invited me to send the article. In a few weeks it came back with a request to cut it from 6,000 to 3,000 words and add two more articles like it, making a three-part historical story.

Aside from the greater cash profit received, that suggestion was invaluable for its instructive aid.

Cutting the story in half taught me much as to the merit of eliminating the unnecessary. The first thousand words, comprising explanatory narrative for the most part, came out easily. The second thousand were a little more difficult to get rid of. Then I began on the last thousand by extracting short paragraphs or portions of them. Five hundred additional words were deleted in this way. Then I began to cut out single sentences and to improve the conciseness of the story. That is where I got the greatest benefit from the editor's suggestion. It taught me how to eliminate, and how to reduce tedious, drawn-out sentences to brief statements.

When I had the story down to 3,200 words I thought I could reduce it no further without actually demeriting it. There seemed nothing left but the bare skeleton and if I took out any more even that would be incomplete. But I realized what an excellent lesson it was to me in acquiring brevity and I determined to cut out those additional two hundred words at any cost. I read and reread the story, critically. I deleted single sentences; portions of sentences. I chopped off every

superfluous word I could find, a great many of them adjectives. At last I had the story down to 2,996 words by estimated count.

I learned more from that process of elimination, suggested by the editor, than I have from any other means regarding the physical construction of a story, because it was actual practice. Superfluity gave way to brevity. The story was stripped of its irrelative statements, tedious sentences, unnecessary adjectives, leaving a tale that was replete from start to finish with vigorous, exciting action. For the first time I myself got a thrill out of it, for it had the gripping element that should characterize such a story, instead of the excessive, dull narrative that had bored me before. My reward was increased immensely when the editor's reply came, and the check he sent was considerably above what I should have received for my original composition.

I have just received an additional letter from one of the associate editors, inviting me to send another similar one!

Such suggestions as these enable the writer to recognize and eliminate the defects of his stories. It is a hard matter to cut out what seems so necessary and to remold into finished form the selected remnants. The writer must set himself apart from the story and forget what is coming, concentrating upon the quality of the story as it progresses. The ability to so examine it becomes one of his greatest assets in the matter of writing.

When one realizes that less than five per cent., sometimes not even one per cent., of all the stories an editor receives can be accepted, he will have a better appreciation of the quality those lucky manuscripts must possess in order to get by. He will then know how important it is to improve his work to the greatest degree possible, and not the least of the improvements is the elimination of every superfluous word, sentence, and paragraph.

Missoula, Mont.

Lamont Johnson.

Editor, the Writer:

There seem to be two classes of writers, in one of which the divine spark burns so surely that they lisp and the numbers come; but for the great majority, the way to the heights of success leads through mazes seemingly without outlet, often through the Slough of Despond, and up steep ascents where hold is uncertain and paths hard to find.

The thing the average writer feels he needs most, when rejection slip follows rejection slipwhen his story, or essay, or poem has seemed to him good, yet has failed to sell is some one to tell him what is the matter with it.

For this reason manuscript clubs have been formed. A successful club of its kind is the Boston Manuscript Club, which had as its nucleus a group of students in Professor Dallas Lore Sharp's short-story course at Boston University, who used to meet after class to discuss their manuscripts. The club started with forty members; it now has a membership of one hundred and ten, and carries out a program which might well serve as a model for other clubs.

The club holds two meetings a month, one an afternoon meeting, the other an evening session. Alternately, as far as possible, meetings are devoted to an address by a distinguished person, and to criticism of manuscripts written by members of the club.

A manuscript is read by its author, selected in alphabetical order, and frank criticism is encouraged. As the ideal of the club is a fair give and take, a desire to put something in as well as to take something away, comment is candid. It remembers that the author wishes to be helped; that he wants a physician, not a mollycoddling neighbor to bring him roses and custards. criticism is helpful to the writer and to all who listen. Moreover, by criticising others, one learns to judge his own work better.

The

The speakers-and Boston and its environs are fortunate in this respect, partly on account of

their nearness to many great institutions of learning are of the best. They include college professors whose specialty is literature; editors of newspapers and magazines, and authors of great repute.

Once a year the professor who is responsible for the formation of the club, and who is called the "Father of the Club," is given a reception, at which he rekindles ambition in old acquaintances, and offers inspiration to new members.

Once a year, too, to add zest to the program and to sound a call for best efforts, a prize contest is conducted, with small monetary awards. After the awarding of prizes, two meetings are given up to the reading of the best stories and essays submitted.

There is but one specific requirement for membership the applicant must be writing and sending out manuscripts. His name must be presented by a member of the club. He or she need have no publication to his credit, for the club is not so much for those who have attained the heights, as for those who are seeking the way. Many have found it, aided and encouraged and criticised by the club. Many may have found the way without its aid, but the seeking has been made pleasanter because it has been realized that others, also, have gone through the slough, and because others have applauded the little as well as the great successes, and have taken them for what they were worth.

Not all have attained fame. Some have. Many have one or two books to their credit; many have seen their names in prominent magazines; but nearly all have "broken into print" somewhereand the end is not yet.

The official staff of the club is a president, two vice presidents, two secretaries, a historian and a librarian, for the club has a small library, composed of volumes of aid in writing and marketing, and books by members. There are also program, hospitality, and social committees.

Eliza L. Carleton.

How-599 Fifth avenue, New York, is the title of a new magazine to be issued the first of January. It will be published It will be published by Robert Collier, Inc., and edited by Robert Collier. The articles in it will be of an inspirational nature and will be written by the editors. But in each issue the editor expects to put three or four stories, for the most part reprints of such stories as "The Urge," by Maryland Allen; "Martin Garrity Gets Even," by Courtland Ryley Cooper and Leo F. Creagan; and the Cappy-Ricks type of go-getting, success-building tales. Stories showing the power of the subconscious mind will be especially welcome. One of the features of How will be a department called Short Cuts. In this will be featured short articles about men and women who have made a quick jump up one rung of the ladder of success, and incidents of this kind are especially wanted. Despite the similarity of name, the magazine has no connection. with Collier's, the National Weekly.

and

of the general action-adventure type, but it is among Western stories that the greatest need exists. All stories should have real characters engaged in hazardous pursuits in romantic settings. The magazine can use a romantic serial, of from 60,000 to 80,000 words; a few good novelettes, containing about 25,000 words; and any number of worthwhile short stories, not exceeding 10,000 words. Mr. Corcoran says the magazine's rates are two cents a word for the beginner, and "more for anyone who will earn it,"

THE OPEN ROAD FOR BOYS-248 Boylston street, Boston, Mass., needs some very short stories, of from 2,000 to 3,000 words, for boys in their teens. Stories may treat of mystery, sport, or adventure, but must move rapidly from the first sentence, and must be reasonably true to life.

SELF-DEFENSE-1841 Broadway, Room 1103, New York, a boxing magazine published by the Ringside Publications, is in the market for fiction stories, containing from 1,500 to 3,000 words, and dealing with the fighting angle. Payment will be on publication, at regular rates of one-half cent a word, with

EVERYBODY'S MAGAZINE-Spring Macdougal streets, New York, of which William Corcoran is now the editor, is looking for some really good Western stories. The magazine still uses material

three-fourths of a cent a word for any story that is unusually interesting, and one cent a word for something that is very exceptional.

THE NOMAD-150 Lafayette street, New York, with which is incorporated Tavern Topics, is well supplied with manuscripts. at the present time, but Mr. Barnitz will be glad to hear from any writer with good, original travel material on hand at any time. Just at present, Mr. Barnitz is most interested in the article, illustrated either with pen or pencil, and possessing that quality known as human interest, and possessing it in large measure. He adds, "I use the word 'possess' for the sake of emphasis, and I think most writers will understand me. I do not want just a little of the human interest element spread lightly on the surface; I want it well worked into the warp and woof of the manuscript."

THE BEACON-25 Beacon street, Boston, Mass., wants especially just now Chrismas stories for boys and girls, of from eight to thirteen. Miss Marie W. Johnson is now editor of the Beacon, and she is always glad to examine stories of wholesome, happy, outdoor life, as well as short illustrated articles, and verse for children. As the paper is small, stories are limited to 2,000 words.

WAR STORIES-Dell Publishing Company, 97 Fifth avenue, New York, is in the market for all good war material fillers, short stories, and novelettes. At the present time, the special need is for novelettes, containing from 15,000 to 25,000 words, although, as Mr. Steeger, the assistant editor, says, the length is arbitrary, "provided the story has the right punch in it." All stories must have fast action and rough soldier humor and talk in them. Payment is made on acceptance, up to four cents a word.

magazine, owned and published by the Jesuit Fathers, is in the market for wholesome stories and articles of interest to Catholics. The maximum length for material is about 5,000 words. Poetry is no longer used in the magazine.

THE PEOPLE'S POPULAR MONTHLY-Des Moines, Iowa, needs at present short stories, of from 6,000 to 8,000 words, and serials, of from 60,000 to 80,000 words, dealing with wholesome, every day life, unsophisticated, with woman appeal, and especially containing love in

terest.

LIBERTY - 247 Park avenue, New York, has no special or specific manuscript needs, but is always glad to consider short stories, serials, and articles of general interest.

THE JUNIOR HOME MAGAZINE-1018 South Wabash avenue, Chicago, Ill., is particularly interested in stories, containing from 700 to 1,500 words, and dealing with true-to-life adventures that appeal specially to boys of from ten to thirteen. Short juvenile poems are also welcome.

AVIATION STORIES AND MECHANICS MAGAZINE-1841 Broadway, Room 1103, New York, is desirous of receiving short fiction stories, not exceeding 2,500 words, pertaining to flying; also short technical articles dealing with aviation. Payment will be made on publication at regular rates of one-half cent a word, threefourths of a cent a word for a story that is unusually interesting, and one cent a word for a very exceptional story.

FIRST STORIES-1839 Jefferson avenue, Grand Rapids, Mich., is a new magazine, edited by Ronald Frederick Eyer, who says that the magazine "will contain nothing but the works of new or amateur writers, the magazine being dedicated to them. Its aim is to encourage talent that might under prevailing con

THE QUEEN'S WORK-3115 South Grand boulevard, St. Louis, Mo., the Sodality