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Shangri-la, issue 7, July-August 1948
Page 1
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SHANGRI-LA #7 JUL-AUG 48 SHANGRI-LA is the official publication of the Los Angeles Science Fantasy Society. It is published bimonthy on a regular basis, & the price is 10[[cent symbol]] a copy, or 3 for 1/4[[?], or 6 for a 1/2, or 12 for 1. We trade fanzines. Letters of comment very welcome. The address of the Editor is DALE HART, APARTMENT 20, 1116 GEORGIA STREET, LA, 15, CALIF. The address of the club remains 6371/2 S. Bixel, LA 14. CONTENTS EDITORIAL.....1 THE WEAPON SHOP, by Mike Scoles.....3 GLASS HOUSES, by David H. Keller, M.D.....5 WEST COAST CONFAB PUBLICITY.....9 COMMINIQUE TO WILSON TUCKER, by F.L.B.....10 JUST A MINUTE, by Jean Cox.....11 SHANGRI-LETTERS, from the readers.....17 EDITORIAL As I begin this editorial, as I start this greeting to you, let me say goodbye in the same typed breath. I graduated from the University of California at Los Angeles last Sunday. I stood up in an open-air theatre, in my cap and gown, and was proclaimed an Artful Bachelor. It was a mass ceremony, reminding me very much of the time I entered the service of the United States Navy. Editing this publication was a relief from my studies. The job didn't take much of my time, really, since the trojan work was done by such trojans as Gus Willmorth, Kenneth Bonnell, E.E. Evans, Mike Scoles, Jean Cox, and many more. Anyway, I was only an interim editor. I took the job for two reasons. First, the mag needed an editor, and no one seemed ready to carry on---to catch Burbee's thrown torch. Second, the job was ready-made. There was a subscription list, a long one, so there had to be no initial process of building up the subscription list. There was no money in the coffer and no material in the files, but matters like that are trivial and beneath the notice of any self-respecting editor-in-the-stick. Quiet, Willmorth!---Excuse me. Willmorth is howling for this stencil. He claims that the mimeograph god must be fed. If anybody is interested in my future plans, I plan to compose stories. If I don't succeed, I won't have any excuses. From now on, I'm going to get my kicks elsewhere, leaving fandom to its very articulate devices. For a while, I'll drop completely out. Later, I'll indulge in some limited activity. (1)
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SHANGRI-LA #7 JUL-AUG 48 SHANGRI-LA is the official publication of the Los Angeles Science Fantasy Society. It is published bimonthy on a regular basis, & the price is 10[[cent symbol]] a copy, or 3 for 1/4[[?], or 6 for a 1/2, or 12 for 1. We trade fanzines. Letters of comment very welcome. The address of the Editor is DALE HART, APARTMENT 20, 1116 GEORGIA STREET, LA, 15, CALIF. The address of the club remains 6371/2 S. Bixel, LA 14. CONTENTS EDITORIAL.....1 THE WEAPON SHOP, by Mike Scoles.....3 GLASS HOUSES, by David H. Keller, M.D.....5 WEST COAST CONFAB PUBLICITY.....9 COMMINIQUE TO WILSON TUCKER, by F.L.B.....10 JUST A MINUTE, by Jean Cox.....11 SHANGRI-LETTERS, from the readers.....17 EDITORIAL As I begin this editorial, as I start this greeting to you, let me say goodbye in the same typed breath. I graduated from the University of California at Los Angeles last Sunday. I stood up in an open-air theatre, in my cap and gown, and was proclaimed an Artful Bachelor. It was a mass ceremony, reminding me very much of the time I entered the service of the United States Navy. Editing this publication was a relief from my studies. The job didn't take much of my time, really, since the trojan work was done by such trojans as Gus Willmorth, Kenneth Bonnell, E.E. Evans, Mike Scoles, Jean Cox, and many more. Anyway, I was only an interim editor. I took the job for two reasons. First, the mag needed an editor, and no one seemed ready to carry on---to catch Burbee's thrown torch. Second, the job was ready-made. There was a subscription list, a long one, so there had to be no initial process of building up the subscription list. There was no money in the coffer and no material in the files, but matters like that are trivial and beneath the notice of any self-respecting editor-in-the-stick. Quiet, Willmorth!---Excuse me. Willmorth is howling for this stencil. He claims that the mimeograph god must be fed. If anybody is interested in my future plans, I plan to compose stories. If I don't succeed, I won't have any excuses. From now on, I'm going to get my kicks elsewhere, leaving fandom to its very articulate devices. For a while, I'll drop completely out. Later, I'll indulge in some limited activity. (1)
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