What People Write For

1895

Mr. Froude, in one of our earliest talks, said:

"And why do you want to meddle with biography? Why can't you be content to write three volume novels?"

"I have no invention," said I.

"Then I suppose you can't write that sort of 'rot' out of which Rider Haggard and such men make their thousands?"

"I am not clever enough for that," I replied.

"That answer is disingenuous," he said. "Well," said I, "I don't want to write those books."

"That's better," said Froude and turned away. But afterward he renewed the subject and said: "I am glad you don't come to me saying that you think you have a mission of any kind, or want to remove a veil from the eyes of mistaken humanity on any subject, or to do anything grand or philanthropical, or that sort of idiocy. I have heard so much of that kind of thing."

"Oh, dear, no!" I said. "I want to put a little money in my pocket. I have no other motive, and as a publisher asked for the book I took the necessary steps. Nothing more."

"That's well," said Froude. — Mrs. Ireland in Contemporary Review.

Seeks Action, Kills Self

1919

FREEPORT, L. I. — The desire of Stanley Simon, 19, for "more action" in a short story he was writing caused his death according to a coroner's verdict. A magazine returned a story to Simon, suggesting he get "more action" in it. Simon was experimenting with a revolver, when it exploded, killing him.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 5.

Report Real Sea-Serpent

1905

Rudyard Kipling has seen his second sea serpent, according to a story which comes with some seriousness from Cape Town. People who read Kipling's first sea-serpent story thought it was merely a brilliant piece of fiction. This second sea serpent story is not told by Kipling, but by the skipper of the steamship Armadale Castle. The sea serpent was seen — in fact, it was struck by the ship and probably killed — while the Armadale Castle was on her last voyage to Cape Town, in latitude 3 degrees south. Mr. Kipling was aboard the ship.

Commander Robinson is not sure whether the creature struck was a real sea serpent, a queer whale or a greatly overgrown shark. Whatever it was, the thing was hit by the bow or the ship where, in all properly regulated fishes, the pectoral fin exists. The head was doubled across the port bow and the tail trailed away along the starboard side. The violent struggles of the creature to free itself from its painful and embarrassing position led to its striking the soft brown paint of the "boot-topping" on the ship's side with the powerful fluke of its tail.

This was observed by the boatswain and some of the men who were watching the affair through the side ports immediately over the tail of the fish. The marks enabled the commander afterward to make fairly accurate measurements. From mark to stem it was forty-five feet. In girth it was apparently about the volume of one of the ship's lifeboats at the broadest part, say eight feet in diameter, very gracefully tapering away toward the tail. The body appeared to be of a greenish-brown color with large dark spots all over the back and sides, the lower parts being of a dull white.

It was first observed by one of the seamen, who heard a knocking against the ship's side. When the news was passed along the decks all the passengers, young and old. performed a mad stampede into the forecastle to look at the unhappy prisoner. The engines were stopped as soon as possible and reversed, but fully a quarter of an hour elapsed between the first discovery and the final clearance, by which time the creature was either dead or completely exhausted, for it sank slowly, tail first.

Girls Travel On "Nerve"

Oct. 1910

Two Oklahoma Young Women Start Out Without Money on a Three-Years' Trip

Chicago. — "We are going around the world on our own endeavors and nerve for educational purposes and to see if two women can work their way in such an undertaking," said Miss Olive Adair and Miss Oralee List, two young women from Tulsa, Okla., who arrived at the Congress hotel, Chicago, from St. Louis, on the first part of their long journey.

They wore broad white satin sashes, with the words, in black letters, "Around-the-World Girls From Tulsa, Oklahoma," and their suitcases and traveling bags were decorated in similar manner. They wore light tan traveling gowns and black turbans. "We are going to make a tour of the world," they said, "and will earn our passage."

Miss List is a composer of music, and Miss Adair is a singer and a writer of short stories. "We started without one cent of money, earning our fare to Kansas City by singing on the streets and selling papers."

Frances Hodgson Burnett, 66 Today, Has Been Writing 50 years

Nov. 24, 1915

Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett, who, in private life, is Mrs. Stephen Townsend, will pass her sixty-sixth milestone today. The popular novelist was born November 24, 1849, in Manchester England, and her maiden name was Frances Eliza Hodgson.

It was just half a century ago that the family moved to Knoxville, Tenn., and shortly after this the girl began the career as a writer which has made her name famous throughout the English speaking world. Although she is now well advanced in years, she has maintained her youthful spirits in fullest measure as evidenced by her latest book, "The Lost Prince," which fairly bubbles with the exuberance and romance of youth. Perhaps Mrs. Burnett has discovered on her annual pilgrimages to "the fairy isles" of Bermuda, the fountain of perpetual youth.

Mrs. Burnett — or Miss Hodgson as she then was — had the joy of seeing her first stories in the magazines when she was only seventeen years old, and ever since she has been a prolific writer. In 1873 she became the bride of Dr L. M. Burnett, and the young couple settled in Washington, which city Mrs. Burnett has since made her home when not in Bermuda or abroad. After a married life of twenty three years Dr. Burnett and his gifted wife agreed to disagree, and Mrs. Burnett obtained a divorce in 1898. Two years later she married another medical man, Dr. Stephen Townsend, an English surgeon, with whom she collaborated in the writing of "Nixie," "A Lady of Quality," and other plays.

Mrs. Burnett's first novel, "That Lass o' Lowrie's," was published in 1877, after she had served a long apprenticeship in writing short stories. Several other volumes followed, and in 1886 she attained an international deputation with her "Little Lord Fauntleroy." "In Connection With the DeWilloughby Claim," "The Dawn of Tomorrow," "A Little Princess," and more than a score of other novels, as well as a number of dramas, have added largely to her army of devoted admirers. Her latest novel, "The Lost Prince," is a fairy tale, breathing chivalrous romance, and a delightful refuge from the workaday world. — By O. Terrence, The Human Procession.

Humor Best That Seems to Happen By Itself

1901

UNCONSCIOUS HUMOR BEST

It Gives a Charm Which is Not Found In the Manufactured Article

One characteristic of the finest humor, touched on already, we must come back to: the quality of unconsciousness, says Charles Johnston in the February Atlantic.

Neither Bret Harte nor Mark Twain, when they wrote of the Luck, of M'liss, of Captain Ned Blakely, of Buck Fanshaw and Scotty Briggs, had any idea how great they were, or even that they were great at all; they never dreamt that these sketches for the local journal would outlive the week that saw their birth, and at last make the circuit of the world, becoming a part of the permanent wealth of man. That gives these stories their inimitable charm. There is none of the striving of the funny man in what belongs to that first period, no setting of traps for our admiration. This is the same as saying that there is none of that instinct of egotism which prompts a man to laugh at his fellow, to show how much wiser and cleverer be himself is. It is all free, generous, and bountiful as the sunshine of the land where it was conceived, full of the spontaneous life of nature herself.


The Definition of a Joke

How You Are to Know One When You See It, Explained By Charles Johnston

What is a joke? And how are you to know one if you see it? asks Charles Johnston in the February Atlantic. My justification for this wanton malice is that I think I have discovered the charm to lay these haunting presences to rest; that I have in some sort discovered the true inwardness of humor, and even been able to draw the shadowy line dividing it from wit.

Here is a story which seems to me to come close to the heart of the secret. The scene is laid in the Wild and Wooly West. A mustang has been stolen, a claim jumped, or a poker pack found to contain more right and left bowers than an Arctic brig; and swift Nemesis has descended in the form of Manila hemp. The time has come to break the news to the family of the deceased. A deputation goes ahead, and the leader knocks at the door of the bereaved homestead, asking, "Does Widow Smith live here?"

A stout and cheerful person replies, "I'm Mrs. Smith, but I ain't no widow!"

The deputation answers: "Bet you a dollar you are! But you've got the laugh on us, just the same, for we've lynched the wrong man."

That story is irresistible. It is as full of sardonic fire as anything in all literature, but you would hardly call it humor. It seems to me to lie so directly on the border line that we may use it as a landmark.

Nonsense — Needed, Wanted in Literature and Life

1901

IMPORTANCE OF NONSENSE

It Dwells In the Memory, Long After Things Have Faded Away

On a topographical map of literature, Nonsense would be represented by a small and sparsely settled country, neglected by the average tourist, but affording keen delight to the few enlightened travelers who sojourn within its borders. It is a field which has been neglected by anthologists and essayists; its only serious recognition, so far as we know, being a few pages in a certain "Treatise of Figurative Language," which says: "Nonsense; shall we dignify that with a place on our list? Assuredly will vote for doing so everyone who hath at all duly noticed what admirable and wise uses it can be, and often is, put to, though never before in rhetoric has it been so highly honored. How deeply does clever or quaint nonsense abide in the memory, and for how many a decade — from earliest youth to age's most venerable years."

Perhaps, partly because of this neglect, the work of the best nonsense writers is less widely known than it might be.

But a more probable reason is, that the majority of the reading world does not appreciate or enjoy real nonsense, and this, again, is consequent upon their inability to discriminate between nonsense of integral merit and simple chaff.

"A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it. Never in the tongue
Of him that makes it."

And a sense of nonsense is as distinct a part of our mentality as a sense of humor, and is by no means identical therewith.

It is a fad at present for a man to relate a nonsensical story, and then if his hearer does not laugh he says, gravely: "You have no sense of humor. That is a test story, and only a true humorist laughs at it." Now, the hearer may have an exquisite sense of humor, but he may be lacking in a sense of nonsense, and so the story gives him no pleasure. De Quincey said, "None but a man of extraordinary talent can write first-rate nonsense." Only a short study of the subject is required to convince us that De Quincey was right; and he might have added, none but a man of extraordinary taste can appreciate first-rate nonsense. — Scribners.

Writer Says Age Doesn't Matter, Keep Going for Success

1921

Emerson Hough Says No "Dead Line" at 40, Former S.U.I. Man

By DALE E. CARRELL

There has long been a sort of "unwritten law," or at least common belief, that if a man didn't make his mark in the world or achieve real success by the time he was 40, he never would. After 40, it has been held, a man simply fights to hold his own or start down-grade.

But, along comes Emerson Hough, and proceeds to rip to pieces this so-called iron-clad rule which would end man's climbing of the ladder of fame at the age of 40. Mr. Hough very emphatically says, there is no dead line at two score "milestones," and the noted author points to his own life as an example and illustration to prove his point.

Emerson Hough is well known personally to many Iowans and Iowa City and University people for he is a graduate of S. U. I, having won his degree in 1880, just 41 years ago. The University of Iowa is very proud of her eminent alumnus and he is just as proud of his alma mater. And, those who do not know Mr. Hough personally, know him thru having read his delightful novel, "The Mississippi Bubble," which made him famous, almost overnight. Therefore, Mr. Hough's declaration will make Hawkeyes, especially, sit up and take notice.

Mr. Hough is now 63 years age and his big success in life did not come until he was 45. Up to the time that success came, he had tried numerous occupations and couldn't make good, or keep happy in any of them, but the former S. U. I. man never once gave up. He soon found, in writing, the real star to follow and he hitched his wagon to it. He is now an author and wealthy. He says "It is within your soul — this question of achievement. It is not decided by the clock or the calendar."

Mr. Hough's statement should hearten a lot of fellows who haven't really found themselves after the 40 mark has been passed, and his own career should serve to inspire confidence and instill new energy in some of the faithful plodders who have almost given up hope. Hough didn't give up during the days of adversity — that is the main thing to remember. Keep on trying and even if you are nearer 60 than you are 40, you can still strike, in the vernacular of the oil field, a "gusher" in some field of endeavor, that means real success. Let no one set a "dead line" for you — you have everything to say about that yourself. The movie director continually yells for "action" when he is making the film you are soon to enjoy on the screen. If you can provide plenty of "action" in your struggle for success, you will not only achieve it, but keep pushing that "dead line" farther and farther away. There is no "dead line" at 40!

—Iowa City Press-Citizen, Iowa City, IA April 11, 1921, p. 1.

Spring Specimens (poetry)

1878

Spring Specimens

'Tis now the gentle hopper-grass
Arises from his winter snooze
And whets his bill upon his leg
Preparatory to its use.

'Tis now the festive yellow jacket
And hornet ope their eyes for aye,
And strive to make a pretty fuss
By stinging cows upon the thigh.

The Paragraphers now awake
And rummage over musty files,
Wherewith to gain their daily bread,
And also gain the public's smiles.

'Tis now the festive door-bell rings
And duns walk through the open door,
And still present the same old bills
As long as in the days of yore.

—National Union.

Sinclair Lewis Warns Writers About Bad Temper

1937

Writers Warned Against Ill Temper By Sinclair Lewis

New London, Conn., June 1 (UP).— Sinclair Lewis thinks it's a sign of bad temper when a writer, having become dissatisfied with a paragraph, tears it off the top of his typewriter.

"When I don't like what I've started to write," said Lewis, "I unroll the entire sheet and put in a fresh one.

"I don't think it's good practice to tear a partly written sheet out of a typewriter, it's a sign of bad temper. When you write you are your own master. A display of temper means you are quarreling with yourself — quarreling with your master. It isn't good to do that."

The novelist, touring New England by motor, recalled his first writing job on a Midwestern newspaper.

"I was fired from that job," he grinned, "but not until my boss was prepared to announce that my successor was already on a train heading for town."

—The Syracuse Herald, Syracuse, NY, June 1, 1937, page 19.

Get Our Your Dictionary and Get Something Out of It

1914

THE STUDY OF WORDS.

It's a Helpful Scheme to Use Your Dictionary Every Day.

Writing an article, "Treasure In Books," in the Woman's Home Companion, Laura Spencer Porter gives the following excellent advice about the advantages to be gained from the study of words:

"The study of words — it may sound to you a dry thing, yet I promise you it is not; very far from it.

"And this brings me to suggest that the habit of one of the great writers of studying carefully from a good dictionary five words each day is one from which we might all of us get a good deal of profit. Or take a good book of synonyms, for instance, and learn from it each day five words somewhat similar, comparing and weighing carefully the meanings and values of them.

"Notice the degrees of force in the following: To dislike, to hate, to loathe, to detest, to abhor. Each note struck is a little stronger, higher. We might say, like an ascending crescendo scale. So to instruct, to teach, to educate, are each quite different in meaning, with a great nicety of difference. So, rebuke, reprimand, censure, blame, are all of one color, but of how different shades of meaning. So, too, misfortune, calamity, disaster; so, weak, feeble, decrepit, and what delicate difference between fame and renown or feminine and womanly and womanish."