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Bizarre, v. 4, issue 1, Janurary 1941

Page 11

January 1941     Page 11

Palmer's not liking letters with manuscripts. It was told me by a prominent Chicago fan; naturally, I can't take the time to check everything. One thing in RAP's statement puzzles me, though. He says he likes letters when they tell that the yarn's a weird or western, so that he won't have to read it. That's quite understandable about the weird ones. But—if he doesn't read the westerns, which of his assistants attends to inserting the ray guns in them, and changing the locales from Utah to Mars?
A recent issue of Writers' Markets & Methods featured an analysis of "Postmarked for Paradise," a short fantasy which appeared in Argosy four or five months ago. Each issue, this magazine analyses a short story from some publication, and the verdict is not always favorable. In this case, it was. The reviewer praised the technique of the author, Ro--bert Arthur, very highly, but closed with an admonition that beginners shouldn't try this kind of work with hopes of much success in it.

Funny-paper report now: A few I've not mentioned before are steadily fantastic in one way or another. Brick Bradford, both daily and Sunday, might be included in this category, although his adventures are mostly lost empires and the like. Alley Oop is now in Egypt, with the help of the time-projector or whatever it is, in the days of the Pharoahs. The Lone Ranger, in the daily strip, is at the time of this writing in the midst of a mystery concerning a man with the head of a wolf. It'll probably turn out to be a mask, but is worth noting, at any rate. Felix, of whom I got a glimpse the other day, seems to be perpetually in the land of nursery rhymes. In Don Winslow of the Navy, some sort of a Tibetan crystal or something is playing a prominent part, the idea being that by looking into the thingamajig you can see whatever's happening all over the world. Barney Baxter in the Air has been featuring an adventure which is like nothing I've ever seen before. One gets the impression that the artist is trying to give an imitation of Stanton A. Coblentz giving an imitation of James Hilton, and doing a terrible job of it. The airplane got caught in a whirlwind of some sort and was transported to a Lost Horizonish secluded spot, where one of the adventurers fell in love with a temple-maiden. He took her back to civilization, and on leaving the air of the place she immediately began to grow extremely old, like the girl in Hilton's tale, but the fellow inadvertantly muttered the mystic words of the temple and all is well once more. The words that brought back her charm are: "hunky dory!"
A. Merritt, I believe, can safely say he is unique in fantasy in one respect: the number of times his works have been reprinted. He's written thus far sixteen complete yarns, which is a mere week's work for a lot of fantasy authors. But of those sixteen yarns, thirteen have been published more than once—only three, in other words, of all his works have never received a second printing. And one of those three will have seen print again by the time you read this—"The Snake Mother" in Fantastic Novels. Besides this, "The People of the Pit" has been published four times already, and is likely to appear in one of the Munsey reprint magazines before long; and "The Moon Pool," "Through the Dragon Glass," "Three Lines of Old French," and "The Women of the Wood" three times each. Moreover, Munsey controls virtually all of his works, and so sooner or later his other yarns will appear. And that doesn't include those which have come out in book form! Can any other pulp writer boast a similar record?

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January 1941 Page 11 Palmer's not liking letters with manuscripts. It was told me by a prominent Chicago fan; naturally, I can't take the time to check everything. One thing in RAP's statement puzzles me, though. He says he likes letters when they tell that the yarn's a weird or western, so that he won't have to read it. That's quite understandable about the weird ones. But—if he doesn't read the westerns, which of his assistants attends to inserting the ray guns in them, and changing the locales from Utah to Mars? A recent issue of Writers' Markets & Methods featured an analysis of "Postmarked for Paradise," a short fantasy which appeared in Argosy four or five months ago. Each issue, this magazine analyses a short story from some publication, and the verdict is not always favorable. In this case, it was. The reviewer praised the technique of the author, Ro--bert Arthur, very highly, but closed with an admonition that beginners shouldn't try this kind of work with hopes of much success in it. Funny-paper report now: A few I've not mentioned before are steadily fantastic in one way or another. Brick Bradford, both daily and Sunday, might be included in this category, although his adventures are mostly lost empires and the like. Alley Oop is now in Egypt, with the help of the time-projector or whatever it is, in the days of the Pharoahs. The Lone Ranger, in the daily strip, is at the time of this writing in the midst of a mystery concerning a man with the head of a wolf. It'll probably turn out to be a mask, but is worth noting, at any rate. Felix, of whom I got a glimpse the other day, seems to be perpetually in the land of nursery rhymes. In Don Winslow of the Navy, some sort of a Tibetan crystal or something is playing a prominent part, the idea being that by looking into the thingamajig you can see whatever's happening all over the world. Barney Baxter in the Air has been featuring an adventure which is like nothing I've ever seen before. One gets the impression that the artist is trying to give an imitation of Stanton A. Coblentz giving an imitation of James Hilton, and doing a terrible job of it. The airplane got caught in a whirlwind of some sort and was transported to a Lost Horizonish secluded spot, where one of the adventurers fell in love with a temple-maiden. He took her back to civilization, and on leaving the air of the place she immediately began to grow extremely old, like the girl in Hilton's tale, but the fellow inadvertantly muttered the mystic words of the temple and all is well once more. The words that brought back her charm are: "hunky dory!" A. Merritt, I believe, can safely say he is unique in fantasy in one respect: the number of times his works have been reprinted. He's written thus far sixteen complete yarns, which is a mere week's work for a lot of fantasy authors. But of those sixteen yarns, thirteen have been published more than once—only three, in other words, of all his works have never received a second printing. And one of those three will have seen print again by the time you read this—"The Snake Mother" in Fantastic Novels. Besides this, "The People of the Pit" has been published four times already, and is likely to appear in one of the Munsey reprint magazines before long; and "The Moon Pool," "Through the Dragon Glass," "Three Lines of Old French," and "The Women of the Wood" three times each. Moreover, Munsey controls virtually all of his works, and so sooner or later his other yarns will appear. And that doesn't include those which have come out in book form! Can any other pulp writer boast a similar record? Follow your favorite authors and fans in BIZARRE