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Twilight Echoes, Winter 1944
Page 3
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solely with the FAPA and perhaps slightly wit the NFFF. His steady blue eyes are immediate rocks on which to anchor a frank meeting and a later friendship. Lynn's the kind of guy who knows immediately if he's going to like you--and he's the kind of fellow you like immediately. John Cunningham and Jackson, Mississippi I met for the first time a year ago last summer. Both of them disappointed me, to be frank, and I know that I at least disappointed Johnny. The story goes that Cunningham has grown to be considered a humanitarian of sorts, one of the religious corners to the table of fandom. In John's mind, at least, I was pictured as a devil-raising pervert. So what was the result? Johnny, as a result of army life and goaded by our meeting, was hell-bent on finding the roughest liquor and the smoothest women, or turnabout, I'm not sure; GI Joe, as a result of army chapels in the desolation of Mississippi and egged on by memories of Cunningham, was determined to spend a sane three-day pass and stay clear of the evils of life. We didn't click one bit, because the contrast was a disappointment rather than a surprise. Paul Spencer was my first GI discovery in army life, two years ago this spring, and the sort acquaintance at Pawling remains one of my bright army memories. Paul is much like Tom Wright in many respects, which may be one reason I took a fancy to him. As a fellow crypto I can think of no one with whom I'd rather be stationed overseas. Paul has a good head on him and a distinct taste for good reading and even some fair writing, so I expect great things from him when this damnable war is over. Our correspondence drifted off due to just one of those things in army life, known mainly as discussing life with a canine in regard to writing each other. Then there were some nice civilians too. Of yes, they're still to be found. Ossie Train helped brighten some moments in Philadelphia. He's a swell egg, despite a slight nervous disorder which keeps him out of the army, and he has the makings of a good author. His collection is really one of the finer unknowns. Ossie is strictly on my list to visit again. Julie Unger provided me with pleasant Brooklyn afternoons about the time I knew the Spence. For some reason forgotten by now we never did make our final date--and Julie never did send me his newsy[?] (hint). Hoping I haven't been too unreadably dry, I'll call this to a halt and do a taps [?] session as I hit the sack until tomorrow, when I'll wrap up this Fapub. FADING INTO STARLIGHT. Admittedly that title reeks of Edgar Guest--and what one doesn't/--but it's strictly literal, chums [?]. As is often my habit, I've taken to reminiscing at this writing in the latter part of September on what led to Starlight publications. It started 15 years ago when I started reading scientifiction...or maybe it started with the first strip of Buck Rogers. It makes little or no difference. I'm celebrating or suffering, knowing not which, six years as an active fan off-and-on, mostly on. 1938 it was, and fall at that, when I decided to become that strange being, an actifan. Through the medium of Spaceways and Le Zombie I had some material published in 1939 which led eventually to my own magazine that fall, a pre-publiccation title of Stunning Scientific Fiction by Smashing Publications, later changed at publication to Stunning Scientifan. Haw! I laughed too as time wore on. Finally the second issue boiled down to Scientifan. I scrapped an incomplete third issue and lifted a department--"Mercury"--to start publication in springtime --3--
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solely with the FAPA and perhaps slightly wit the NFFF. His steady blue eyes are immediate rocks on which to anchor a frank meeting and a later friendship. Lynn's the kind of guy who knows immediately if he's going to like you--and he's the kind of fellow you like immediately. John Cunningham and Jackson, Mississippi I met for the first time a year ago last summer. Both of them disappointed me, to be frank, and I know that I at least disappointed Johnny. The story goes that Cunningham has grown to be considered a humanitarian of sorts, one of the religious corners to the table of fandom. In John's mind, at least, I was pictured as a devil-raising pervert. So what was the result? Johnny, as a result of army life and goaded by our meeting, was hell-bent on finding the roughest liquor and the smoothest women, or turnabout, I'm not sure; GI Joe, as a result of army chapels in the desolation of Mississippi and egged on by memories of Cunningham, was determined to spend a sane three-day pass and stay clear of the evils of life. We didn't click one bit, because the contrast was a disappointment rather than a surprise. Paul Spencer was my first GI discovery in army life, two years ago this spring, and the sort acquaintance at Pawling remains one of my bright army memories. Paul is much like Tom Wright in many respects, which may be one reason I took a fancy to him. As a fellow crypto I can think of no one with whom I'd rather be stationed overseas. Paul has a good head on him and a distinct taste for good reading and even some fair writing, so I expect great things from him when this damnable war is over. Our correspondence drifted off due to just one of those things in army life, known mainly as discussing life with a canine in regard to writing each other. Then there were some nice civilians too. Of yes, they're still to be found. Ossie Train helped brighten some moments in Philadelphia. He's a swell egg, despite a slight nervous disorder which keeps him out of the army, and he has the makings of a good author. His collection is really one of the finer unknowns. Ossie is strictly on my list to visit again. Julie Unger provided me with pleasant Brooklyn afternoons about the time I knew the Spence. For some reason forgotten by now we never did make our final date--and Julie never did send me his newsy[?] (hint). Hoping I haven't been too unreadably dry, I'll call this to a halt and do a taps [?] session as I hit the sack until tomorrow, when I'll wrap up this Fapub. FADING INTO STARLIGHT. Admittedly that title reeks of Edgar Guest--and what one doesn't/--but it's strictly literal, chums [?]. As is often my habit, I've taken to reminiscing at this writing in the latter part of September on what led to Starlight publications. It started 15 years ago when I started reading scientifiction...or maybe it started with the first strip of Buck Rogers. It makes little or no difference. I'm celebrating or suffering, knowing not which, six years as an active fan off-and-on, mostly on. 1938 it was, and fall at that, when I decided to become that strange being, an actifan. Through the medium of Spaceways and Le Zombie I had some material published in 1939 which led eventually to my own magazine that fall, a pre-publiccation title of Stunning Scientific Fiction by Smashing Publications, later changed at publication to Stunning Scientifan. Haw! I laughed too as time wore on. Finally the second issue boiled down to Scientifan. I scrapped an incomplete third issue and lifted a department--"Mercury"--to start publication in springtime --3--
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