Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1919-07-06

you were real boy, you read
many Of the tales my typewrit-
er told. If you were girl your
brothers read them. and the results
were shown in the games in which
you Joined them. The novel cost S
cents.
Each weekly product consisted Of
$4,000 words. divided into sixteen
chapters. This is about half the
'ength Of an ordinary novel. 1t was
required that each chapter end with
thrill. A dime novel thrill is a
new heart-rending situation. with a
few blood curdles. or an old situation
made heart-rending or blood-curdling
by some new twist. The above facts
mean 524 stories, 100000 words and
$50 new thrills per annum. weighed
142 when I quit: 174 now.
1t took me exactly sixteen hours
to write each story. Sometimes the
sixteen hours were scattered through
out the week; at other times they
would be continuous, except perhaps
for a couple of hours spent in eating,
drinking and sleeping. If my hun
dred pages Of manuscript were turned
in to the editor by o'clock Wednes-
day afternoon, n check for $50 would
be forthcoming Friday at pm.
never failed to get that check. In
fact. usually, in company with other
WRITER'S 1 was waiting for it in
the office of the company. Seldom
did we trust the mails.
On one occasion l did not begin my
tale until 2 o'clock Tuesday. The
story was finished at 3 the next day.
l did not sleep much on that occasion.
A clock, quite appropriately of the
alarm variety, habitually stood be-
side amy typewriter. If l discovered
that the machine was not turning out
the scheduled six and a fraction pages
an hour l speeded up. The tale was
always done on time. There was the
check, you see.
X X
l had been writing tales for various
magazines for some time.
Free-lance writing is more elevat-
ing, but precarious. wanted a steady
job. if such thing exists for such a
person.
Il would like to write some detec-
tive Stories" 1 said on applying to
one of the editors of a celebrated pub
fishing house.
we nave man writing for us who
originated all our detective fiction" he
replied. Have you ever been in the
vest"
mo" l did not at the moment realize
the folly Of my reply.
Read up about it," he said 81 mean
the far west Of the old days" Then he
called an office boy.
The lads of today want real stuff"
the editor went on. "One Of our IL
braries is on its last legs. 1t needs new
life. See If you can give it punch"
He took some violently colored PAM
phlets from the boy. who had returned,
and handed me four.
Read these" he said. "Keep the
same main characters add new ones IL
you care to. Write one and submit Il
to me-. If we like your stuff we shall
""hs oio a "cSh OiiliA nOIlCe.
Action, always action''
Rather appalled,, took the books.
wondering how l should keep the ma
ture Of them concealed from persons I
happened to meet on the street.
There is one character running
through these stories," continued the
editor. whom 1 want reformed. For
twenty years he has been getting drunk.
You will see as you read that he Is a
rough diamond with a heart of gold.
Make him quit drinking. But, of course.
don't disgust the boy readers by making
him goody- goody.' Don't mention the
word saloon If you can help 1t. Make
the morals Of the hero perfect, but keen
him fighting man. Don't let anything
low or vulgar appear in the tales,
Good-day hope you hit it. Remember.
action. always action"
"You-you want Sunday school
stories" I stammered. land don't want
the boys to know they are reading that
iknd?"
Exactly" replied the editor. II was
then remembered his name was Saint"
something and noted that he looked bit
like parson.
That was my start. They liked the
stories wrote That hero is dead now
A flor yaoru ~ o.aon,..i.- ,.,