Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-08-06

ter than perhaps any novelist that ever
lived Mr.. Chambers is pretty well on
his way toward the millionaire mark. He
has made all of his money from his nov
world. One can write this sort of thing
about him without the least suspicion of
being engaged in boosting only
met him once, anyhow, and haven't the
least desire or incentive to engage in the
'boOsting' business - because he Is a
striking example of how successful the
novelist can be when, by some whimsy
miracle, he happens to hit upon just the
vein Of novel consumers like and want.
Novels Of "The Fighting Chance" and
THE Younger Set sort, and others of
the same type from Mr.. Chambers pen.
very promptly proved that they were
just what the novel-eaters wanted, and
the money has been flowing in upon him
struck the vein. 1t took him some time
to strike the vein. He began by writ
ing historical novels of the Cardigan
type The novel-reading folks wouldn't
gan to do the kappa house-party thing
and to portray the gilded life, they be-
gan to stand in line to get his books
The unfortunate part of this is that
Mr.. Chambers is a novelist capable OF
far higher things in his domain. But
he can't be blamed for giving EN- what
they want" There's fun writing
novels that nobody will buy.
Mr. Chambers is the least lith' y-look
ing person I ever cut the trail Of He
Is very wholesome appearing and trig
and groomy and up-to-the-minute and
all that sort of thing; but not In sew
eraI thousand years Of guessing would
you ever take him for" a novelist.
He looks rather like the chap who's
conventionally described as the pros
porous Wall street man.. He's got the
big business look. You'd expect to see
him pull up in motor car In front or
oh O'clock
Of weekday mornings. hustle into the
building, lash out at the scared clerks.
open a bunch Of mail reaching to the
ceiling. keep his hand on the tape or
the ticker, and all like that But he
bellies his exterior, being really an artist
to his finger tips who combines artistry
with a large and glowing fund of COM
mon, or horse. sense.
H*
He started out to be an artist and spent
several years in Paris ateliers. When he
returned to the United States he began
or thought he was going to begin-as an
illustrator He was, 80 he says. the Very
worst illustrator in all civilization, and l
have heard that opinion confirmed by a
lot of elderly art editors, who used to
reject his work with great elan and resu-
larity.
Then he turned to the writing game,
and now he has town houses, town cars,
country houses and country cars; yachts,
motor boats and a balance at his bank
ers that permits of his knowing right
along, from day to day. where he Is 60
ing to sleep at night.
He works with the greatest method.
doing SO much every day. whether ne
feels in the mood" or not, because, as
he says. writing Is his business. and the
mood number has nothing whatever to
do with it. He is prolific. but careful;
he doesn't turn out sloppy stuff. because
he is too good a business man for any
thing SO fatuous. He says that in time
he is going to write the sort of things
that please himself. I foresee that, while
those things will be mighty good read
ing for the cognoscenti. they won't be
read by the multitude. But when a man
has made a million out of novels he can
afford to permit the aforesaid multitude
to run for O'Suini.
Not long ago met another decidedly