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Fantasy Aspects, issue 2, November 1947
Page 27
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In eastern papers. Ackerman hesitates, looks at his stack of Weird Tales, and is lost. Dorothy Quick can't be wrong, can she? So he keeps two copies. Besides, look at the nice plug for the Foundation. Yes, two copies. Review #7: "Like mysteries that demand sharp wits? This is your meat if it is. Mr. Tucker has worked out a unique problem with the clues there for you to see -- if you can penetrate their various guises. It is written in the form of letters, but don't let that stop you." --- Omaha World-Hearld. Now consider poor Ackerman's plight. By this time he is as befuddled as the author. And then he picks up, purely by chance again, the December 28th issue of the Saturday Review and reads that the "Doll" was the second-cleverest mystery of the year. He's lost, I'm lost, and let's all buy half a dozen copies just to be on the safe side and make me a hatful of dirty currency. The gist of the matter can be summed up thusly: Critics aren't worth the money paid them nor the publicity heaped upon them because their views and values differ so radically that a reader who subscribes to more than one publication in which such reviews appear can wind up only being confused, not knowing which to believe. The metropolitan reviewer is an over-slick sophisticate who sites in his tower and pretends to know the reading tastes of the entire nation, possibly not realizing that his own taste is jaded beyond redemption because of an over-consumption of the commodity he reviews. The Small Town reviewer on the other hand maybe reads one or two books per week and a no-better-than-average novel employing a radical new trick will sweep him off his feet. Okay, Warner, I'm at the end of my not-too-subtle blast of publicity and egoboo. Let's have the nasty remark. ------------------------------------ REPRINTED FROM FAN-TODS #16 Edited and published by Norm Stanley at 43A Broad Street Rockland, Maine for distribution through the FAPA ------------------------------------ Cont from Page 16 COLLECTING By H. Cheney, Jr. From HAROLD CHENEY, JR. ------------------------------------ us careless, we'd hop in our jalopy and ride off to the prey. Upon arriving and being admitted to a musty attic, we would see a bunch of worthless junk. Careful search would disclose that there were perhaps 3 or 4 valuable books in the lot. We would reassemble the pile and assume a critical air. Finally, after much chin-pulling and brow-wrinkling, we would offer them from 25c to $2.00 for the bunch. You'd be surprised how fast some old widow with orphans would accept. (heh) When we got them home we'd pick out the valuable ones and maybe get about $10 for them from interested collectors. The rest, except for a few interesting ones we kept for our personal collection, we burned. Are you with me? Well now it wouldn't be too hard to adjust that to stf mags, ----(Page 27)----
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In eastern papers. Ackerman hesitates, looks at his stack of Weird Tales, and is lost. Dorothy Quick can't be wrong, can she? So he keeps two copies. Besides, look at the nice plug for the Foundation. Yes, two copies. Review #7: "Like mysteries that demand sharp wits? This is your meat if it is. Mr. Tucker has worked out a unique problem with the clues there for you to see -- if you can penetrate their various guises. It is written in the form of letters, but don't let that stop you." --- Omaha World-Hearld. Now consider poor Ackerman's plight. By this time he is as befuddled as the author. And then he picks up, purely by chance again, the December 28th issue of the Saturday Review and reads that the "Doll" was the second-cleverest mystery of the year. He's lost, I'm lost, and let's all buy half a dozen copies just to be on the safe side and make me a hatful of dirty currency. The gist of the matter can be summed up thusly: Critics aren't worth the money paid them nor the publicity heaped upon them because their views and values differ so radically that a reader who subscribes to more than one publication in which such reviews appear can wind up only being confused, not knowing which to believe. The metropolitan reviewer is an over-slick sophisticate who sites in his tower and pretends to know the reading tastes of the entire nation, possibly not realizing that his own taste is jaded beyond redemption because of an over-consumption of the commodity he reviews. The Small Town reviewer on the other hand maybe reads one or two books per week and a no-better-than-average novel employing a radical new trick will sweep him off his feet. Okay, Warner, I'm at the end of my not-too-subtle blast of publicity and egoboo. Let's have the nasty remark. ------------------------------------ REPRINTED FROM FAN-TODS #16 Edited and published by Norm Stanley at 43A Broad Street Rockland, Maine for distribution through the FAPA ------------------------------------ Cont from Page 16 COLLECTING By H. Cheney, Jr. From HAROLD CHENEY, JR. ------------------------------------ us careless, we'd hop in our jalopy and ride off to the prey. Upon arriving and being admitted to a musty attic, we would see a bunch of worthless junk. Careful search would disclose that there were perhaps 3 or 4 valuable books in the lot. We would reassemble the pile and assume a critical air. Finally, after much chin-pulling and brow-wrinkling, we would offer them from 25c to $2.00 for the bunch. You'd be surprised how fast some old widow with orphans would accept. (heh) When we got them home we'd pick out the valuable ones and maybe get about $10 for them from interested collectors. The rest, except for a few interesting ones we kept for our personal collection, we burned. Are you with me? Well now it wouldn't be too hard to adjust that to stf mags, ----(Page 27)----
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