The daily morning journal and courier., 1895-08-15


 ial hobby of mine. l have published al- together nearly three hundred short stories, but they have all been financial failures, The most I ever received for one was fifty dollars, and the least three dollars. They have been, in all sorts of publications, including the Youths Companion, Harper's Weekly, St. Nicholas, Outlook, Independent, New England Magazine and many others.
 My merits are of an inferior order, l know. Although I find market for nearly everything I write, the majority of my stories and articles eventually come out in some of the second-class publications. The magazines and weeklies that pay good prices for hack work are very limited, and their columns are greatly crowded, If every thing l write could find a place in some of the dozen best periodicals. I could very easily double my income. But how many are fortunate enough to find such a regular market? The average hack" is satisfied if he can find any kind of market for all of his wares, and is even willing to wait for a long time for his payment.
 I have waited not only months, but years, for sums ranging from five to ten dollars. Referring to my manu- script book, find that one literary weekly in New York, whose standing is unquestionable, accepted an article and story just five years ago, and promised to pay upon publication. I am still waiting for the money. Another week. ly has kept accepted articles of mine for two years without paying for them. Even Harper's Weekly delayed the pay ment for a column article for whole twelve months, although uniformly prompt and good payment has come from that quarter. The daily papers usually publish an article soon after ac- cepting it, and weekly or monthly pay ments are therefore made promptly But outside of daily journalism the or dinary "hack" expects to wait from three to ten months for his check after his manuscript has been accepted, If he be so impatient as to demand quick CT payment he will fall into disfavor. Another discouraging feature of the 'hack's" life is the carelessness of edi- tors in handling manuscripts. This does not apply to the leading publishing houses, where manuscripts receive care full treatment, but to the scores of lesser publications, whose editors either do not recognize authors rights, or are | handicapped by insufficient help. Of course they always put the blame upon the post-office. Stamped envelopes sent | with the manuscripts do not insure the return of a manuscript from many pa pers. A writer must learn to discrimi- l nate against such publications and ig- nore them completely. Before I knew | my papers I lost on an average ten per cent. of my manuscripts, but after a bitter experience I have reduced the to- tai loss to less than one per cent. Some 1 editors excuse themselves by saying | that a copy should be retained by the author. But how many writers make I two copies of their manuscripts? The l extra labor involved would make life so I discouraging that there would bet gen. | eral epidemic of suicides. | I have not enjoyed a salary of any kind in nine years, although several mi | nor positions have been offered to me if I would tie myself down to desk-work. | After all, there is a pleasant side to the 1 hacks" life. He is free and indepen- dent. He is at the dictation of no one, and he can do his work at any hour of l the day that suits his pleasure, provi- ded he grinds out so much day. He may live in the city, or in some plea s.
 ant suburb, where he can do his writing under congenial circumstances. He 1 has more of the leisure of the literary
 man to compose and perfect his articles.
 Still, he is writing against time, and he cannot accommodate himself to his moods. Each days labor is marked out for him, and that must be performed | whether he is mentally or physically | equipped for it. He must find subjects; he must gather material continually l his knowledge must range over all sub- jects of interest to humanity, and he
 must write about them even though he has only superficial ideas concerning l them
 l For three years my income has aver
 aged two thousand dollars, and I see no particular prospects of an increase Companions of my former days who en- | tered other fields of usefulness are bet | ter off. One is a minister in a western
 city receiving a salary of three thou sand dollars a year; another has been called to a six thousand dollar charge
 a third is practising physician in New
 York making eight thousand dollars; a fourth is travelling for mercantile house at a salary of three thousand dollars and all expenses paid for him self and wife, fifth is,at the head of a wholesale hardware store doing a large
 business all oyer the country; and 8
 sixth is a lawyer enjoying an income ot | eight thousand dollars. I could extend
 this list very easily, but sufficient is I given to show that either I possess tai ents much inferior to my companions
 or the life of a journalistic hack" is 3 grinding and unremunerative one.
 I would be satisfied to accept the first alternative if the testimony of other
 companions in Journalism and litera l ture did not seem to contradict thai 1 conclusion. One of the brightest friends that I had spent three years ir 'hack" writing after leaving college and averaged five hundred dollars a
 year. He gave up the work in disgust | then, and entered a mercantile house
 where he now receives a handsome in- come A second continued in journal. ism and to-day he gets a beggarly sala- ry of eighteen hundred dollars as an as