Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2007 witii funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation littp://www.arcliive.org/details/artofstorywritinOOfowlricli THE ART OF STORY WRITING Books by Nathaniel c. Fowler. Jr. The Art of Story Writing The Handbook of Journalism Each 12mo. cloth $1.25 net How to Obtain Citizenship Getting a Start Beginning Right Grasping Opportunity Each, 12nio, cloth The Art of Letter Writing 1,000 Things Worth Knowing Stories and Toasts for After Dinner The Art of Speech Making Each, 12mo, cloth George Sully & Company NEW YORK THE ART OF STORY WRITING Facts and Information About Liter- ary Work of Practical Value to Both Amateur and Professional Writers BY NATHANIEL C. FOWLER, Jb. Aathor of "SUrtiDff in Life.'* * How to ObUin Citii«n«hip,*' •*Th« Art of UtUr Wrilin*.' -How to S«Te Money." «te. NEW YORK GEORGE SULLY AND COMPANY Cop3Tn?rht, 191S, by SULLY AND KLEINTEICH All rights reserved PRINTED IN U. S. A. rNi45 A WORD AT THE START The writing of stories of every class and of any length, and of every kind of literature, whether or not published in book form, is a distinct art or pro- fession, may be considered as a trade, and cannot be accurately weighed or measured unless subject to both ethical and commercial consideration. To refuse to discuss the making of literature commercially, or from a business point of view, would be unfair and unprofitable. It is obvious that the majority of writers con- sider their pens as remunerative tools, and that they produce literature, or what resembles it, not wholly for fame and for the good that they may do, but because of the money received, or expected, from their work. The making and marketing of literature, then, are not removed wholly from the rules or laws which govern the manufacture of a commodity. If literature was not a commodity, in some sense. A WORD AT THE START at least, it would not have a market and be paid for. Any analysis of it, therefore, must take into account its commercial or trade value. In this country, many thousands of men and women depend entirely upon their pens for a live- lihood, and ten times as many thousand write whoUy for fame or for the good they can do, with or without expectation of receiving a financial re- turn. Several books have been written claiming to con- tain rules, regulations, or instructions for the writ- ing of every class of literature. While none of these books are valueless, I think that most of them are altogether too technical, and that some of them pretend to do the impossible. One may receive specific instructions in stenog- raphy, typewriting, book-keeping, and other con- crete work, depending upon experience for pro- ficiency ; but it is difficult, if not impossible, to tell any one how to write so that he may become pro- ficient in this art largely from the instructions given. I do not believe that it is possible for any one, not even an experienced writer, to impart an actual A WORD AT THE START working knowledge of composition, which will be of more than preliminary benefit to the reader. Instead of loading this book with instructions, and attempting to tell the would-be writer what to do and what not to do, or to build a frame which he may use as a model, I have devoted many of my pages to the giving of information which I hope will not fail to assist the reader. I am entirely unbiased, and have no ax to grind at the reader's expense. I am telling him the truth as I see it, and am using the eyes of others as well as my own. Personal opinion, even if given by an expert, has little value, unless it is based upon the com- posite. What I have said, then, is of the little I know, combined with the much which I think I know about what others know. I have attempted neither to skim the surface, nor to bore into the depths. Rather, I have chosen to present typographical pictures of liter- ary fact, starting at the beginning and ending at the result. CONTENTS PAOC A WOHD AT THE StART CHAPTER I Entering a Literary Career 1 CHAPTER II The Writing of Notel» 6 CHAPTER III The Writing of a Short Story 20 CHAPTER IV The Story of Adventure 28 CHAPTER V The Mystery Story 81 CHAPTER VI The Detective Story SS CHAPTER VII Stories for Children 86 CHAPTER VIII Humorous Writing 89 CHAPTER IX Special Stories or Articles *5 CONTENTS CHAPTER X PAGE The Writing op Poetry . 47 CHAPTER XI Play Writing 58 CHAPTER XII Motion-Picture Plays 84 CHAPTER XIII The Name of a Book or Story ..... 87 CHAPTER XIV Literary Schools 91 CHAPTER XV Literary Agencies or Bureaus ...... 94 CHAPTER XVI The Preparation of a Manuscript ... 98 CHAPTER XVII Manuscript Paper 108 CHAPTER XVIII Copying Manuscripts 110 CHAPTER XIX The Number of Words in a Manuscript . .113 CHAPTER XX Revising Manuscripts 115 CHAPTER XXI How TO Send a Manuscript 120 CONTENTS CHAPTER XXII PAGE Rejected Manuscripts 126 CHAPTER XXIII The Size of a Book 129 CHAPTER XXIV The Number of Words in a Book . .183 CHAPTER XXV How A Manuscript » Rickited and Handled BY A Book Publisher 136 CHAPTER XXVI Terms for the Publication of Booki . .143 CHAPTER XXVII Contracts with Book Publishers . .119 CHAPTER XXVIII Disreputable Publishers 168 CHAPTER XXIX Copyrighting 172 CHAPTER XXX Quoting from Copyrighted Matter . .177 CHAPTER XXXI Thx Danger of Libel 179 CHAPTER XXXII The Price of a Book 182 CHAPTER XXXIII Illustrations 185 CONTENTS CHAPTER XXXIV page The Reading of Proofs 193 CHAPTER XXXV Books Published at the Author's Expense 204 CHAPTER XXXVI Complimentary Copies of Books .... 206 CHAPTER XXXVII Books in Libraries 208 CHAPTER XXXVIII The Advance Publication, or Republication, op Books, Stories, and Articles .... 210 CHAPTER XXXIX The Linotype, Monotype, and Typesetting Machines 213 CHAPTER XL Electrotyping and Stereotyping . . . .215 CHAPTER XLI The Value of Experience and Timeliness . 217 CHAPTER XLII Syndicate Writers 225 CHAPTER XLIII Paper-Covered Books 232 CHAPTER XLIV The Selling Value of Reputation . . . 236 CONTENTS CHAPTER XLV pact Thb Income of Book Whcers 240 CHAPTER XLVI The Incomes of Magazine and Newspaper Writerb 244 CHAPTER XLVII The Remuneration Received by the Favored Few 247 CHAPTER XLVIII Records op Manuscriptc 251 THE ART OF STORY WRITING CHAPTER I Ektxbino a Ltteeabt Camxmm WOULD I advise one to take up literature, or any other class of writing, save journal- istic work, as a means for a livelihood, and to de- vote his energies exclusively to the production of books and other literary matter? It is easier to ask the question than it is to an- swer it. It is true that many men and women, even thousands of them, earn their living with their pens, and some of them have obtained fame. Certainly no work is more fascinating or more deeply appeals to the inner emotions and senti- ments than literature does. Literature may be considered the world's best 1 2 THE ART OF STORY WRITING vehicle of progress. Without it, civilization would never have a chance to expand. Nations, as well as people, are known by their literature. The spoken word may lose itself in the atmos- phere, but the printed word may live forever. There are few callings which have a right to occupy, with the litterateur, the front of the stage of life. Good literature fairly breeds self-satisfaction of a kind which the literary man has a right to be proud of. Not only is the successful writer satisfied with himself, but he has the even greater satisfaction of knowing that he is one of the pillars of civili- zation, one of the main props of the house of immortality. Nevertheless, from the heights, we must drop to the earth itself, and we must consider litera- ture, for the time being, as a commodity, that we may view it commercially as well as ethically. If one is not self-supporting, I would advise him not to launch his craft upon the sea of litera- ture, unless he has an anchor ready to be cast ENTERING A LITERARY CAREER 3 to windward, and there is attached to it a cable strong enough to hold. Many of the most successful writers occupy salaried or remunerative positions, and are not obliged to butter their bread with their pens. They take up writing, not always as a side issue, but as an extra duty. They provide for them- selves financially in some other way, and do not let go their grasp on their regular profession or trade, until they are well established as writers. Upon general principles, I would not advise any would-be author to enter the field of litera- ture, unaccompanied by a flour barrel and a lunch basket, because it may be some time before even his best work will be sufficient to pay for food and clothing. Every man or woman, rich or poor, should be sufficiently familiar with some trade, business, or profession to be able to earn his living, that he may have proper food and clothing, and may not become a burden upon his friends or his com- munity. Then, and only then, do I think it is safe for him to consider the making of literature the means of livelihood. 4 THE ART OF^ STORY WRITING If he is fairly well provided for, or is earning a living, he will, in most cases, have opportunity to test his literary strength. If he fails, he has lost so much time. If he succeeds, he may take up literature exclusively. So long as this world has a material side to it, and while the possession of money is necessary to feed the material boiler, without which the mental engine will not run, it is well for one to consider the material, and to have some grasp upon it, be- fore he looks up into the clouds, which, however beautiful they may be, are not sufficient to sus- tain life. The beauty of literature, and of everything else which appeals to our better selves, cannot warm the fireless body, or, by itself alone, furnish clothing, food, or lodging. If you have the ability to write, you have the capacity to be self-supporting. But do not at- tempt to feed the world with words on an empty stomach. Ground yourself sufficiently in the material, to be able to meet the necessities of life. With these as a foundation, you may then attempt to do those better things which lift man above the ENTERING A LITERARY CAREER 5 animal and make the material of second conse- quence. At the start, it is not of second conse- quence, — it is of first importance. The literature that lives is from the mind of living writers, not from those who have not suf- ficient of the necessities of life to more than kindle the fire which bums in the head of litera- ture. Then, no one can write living words who has not lived, who has not experienced material things, who has not seen the dull, unpolished side of the shield of life, which, without it, could not sustain the glory of the other side. If you would be a literary light, store material oil, or your light will flicker and go out. CHAPTER II The Writing of Novels THE would-be novelist, or writer of fiction, naturally is looking for some one to tell him what he should know, and what he should do, to become proficient in his prospective calling. He will continue his inquiries up to the limit of his capacity to question, and he may expect an answer ; but he will not find it in this book, or re- ceive a truthful answer to his inquiry, or any answer at all, except one based upon generali- ties ; because, if there were ever any rules or regu- lations for the production of the novel or the work of fiction, they are hidden so far below the sur- face that neither the modern dredge nor the pene- trating digger is large enough, strong enough, or sharp enough, to excavate them. It would be as difficult for me, or for any other writer, to furnish specific directions for the writ- 6 THE WRITING OF NOVELS 7 ing or making of fiction, as it would be to frame a statute law which the state could effectively use for the manufacture of gentlemen. All that I can do, and all that anybody else can do, is to make a few suggestions, which may and may not be of assistance to one who would produce fiction. A novel, or work of fiction, as commonly de- fined, 18 a written or printed story, having one or more leading characters, who appear upon the paper stage, and act according to the directions of the author, say the things he writes into their mouths, whether or not the plot or action of the story is founded upon what has actually occurred. The author assumes the right to make his char- acters do and say what he wants them to do and say, and to create situations for them. If he is wise, he will have them say the words, and do the things, which he thinks they would say and do if they were subjected to the conditions and en- vironments in which he has placed them. Literary license permits the fiction writer to exaggerate, to create impossible conditions and situations, and to do practically what he pleases with his characters, provided that he produces 8 THE ART OF STORY WRITING something interesting to a sufficient number of readers to justify the publication of his work. The best novels are, however, those which are realistic and natural, with characters and scenes drawn from real life, although not necessarily from common, everyday life. Extraordinary characters, doing extraordinary things, and say- ing extraordinary words, are not, however, ob- jectionable, if an extraordinary, and yet possible, environment is provided for them. While the mirror of fiction should reflect nature, it need not reflect' only the common things we see, or be the sounding board for the common words we hear. The average successful novel has, for its lead- ing character or characters, a man and woman, or men and women, who are able to converse more in- telligently and more brilliantly than can the ma- jority of people we meet. The tame, everyday, ordinary character cannot sustain a leading part in a novel. If ordinary men and women are to be introduced, they should appear as supernumer- aries. The floor of the stage of the story may be on common ground, but upon it must appear THE WRITING OF NOVELS 9 characters which walk faster than most folks walk, and scenes which, although natural and true to life, are, at least, somewhat unusual. Comparatively few novels are without two prominent characters, — one a man, the other a woman, — and the author usually makes them into lovers, and allows them to marry at some stage in the story, but postpones the wedding un- til the last chapter. Few successful works of fiction are without sentiment, — portrayals of love between men and women. The shadows, as well as the sunbeams, of love should be in evidence, and the author al- most invariably introduces disaster of some kind, with the assistance of one or more disreputable characters, or villains. It is obvious that even the purest fiction needs a dark setting for the full display of its white- ness; and the author, therefore, may very prop- erly introduce characters and situations, which, by contrast, allow the hero and heroine to appear in a light which would not seem to be as clear or as brilliant if the scenes and situations of the story permitted no contrast. It would seem, 10 THE ART OF STORY WRITING then, that contrast, or difference, should be a part of the composition of the successful novel, and of other works of fiction, even of adventure; and love in no way interferes with the excitement of danger, but rather enhances its intensity. The historical novel, that is, fiction written around historical facts, need not necessarily con- tain more than a small amount of sentiment, but there would appear to be no good reason why the silken thread of love should not be interwoven into the dark fabric of the past. The acceptable novel has, as a rule, plenty of action. The characters do not sit still or lei- surely walk or talk. They do something or say something, except within the pauses of descrip- tion or explanation. They are passed rapidly from one situation to another; meet alternately with good luck and with disaster; they are kept on the firing-line, ever ready for action ; they are grouped in the daylight and transferred in the dark ; and by word of mouth and action they make it unnecessary for the author to insert long para- graphs of explanation or pages of moralizing. The successful novel somewhat resembles a THE WRITING OF NOVELS 11 play, except that the play is all dialogue or con- versation. Practically all of the acceptable novels have a happy ending. If the story is one of love or sentiment, the male character invariably wins the woman of his choice, even though the author finds it expedient to have him lose her a dozen times, and to fight a hundred battles to win her. Mis- understanding and intrigue often occur, but every- thing is cleared up before the book closes. As I have already intimated, most of the best novels, and the so-called best sellers, even though they may be purely fiction, are drawn from life, and frequently the characters are living, or have lived, in the flesh. The names of persons and places have been changed, and situations which have occurred have been portrayed, or new ones have been created. If the later method is used, the proficient author makes his characters do and act as they would if they were literally placed within the environment, or under the conditions, that the author has created for them. From among his friends or acquaintances, the author selects characters tc represent his heroes. 12 THE ART OF STORY WRITING and as many other characters as are essential for the working out of the plot. He carries these characters through the book, attempting to make each one do and say what he imagines they would do and say under similar conditions. In no other way can he hope to produce a story both realistic and interesting. It is not necessary that the characters should have experienced, in real life, aU of the conditions created for them in the story, if the author is sufficiently close to his characters, and has the ability to so diagnose their character- istics, that at no time they are likely to get far away from what they would probably do under the given circumstances. The author begins by the construction of a plot; that is to say, he outlines the scheme of his story, either with or without writing it upon paper. He has before him a mental picture of what he purposes to have occur, and the places which are necessary for the carrying out of his story. Of course, he has a right to take liber- ties with his characters, and with the situations in which he has placed them. His descriptions of places need not be geographically correct, so long THE WRITING OF NOVELS 13 as similar places exist or could exist. His char- actors remain and work out their destiny in his brain; and while thus engaged, he writes about them, giving each a touch of the real, which would be impossible if he did not keep in the closest con- tact with them and the environment he has created for them. While much latitude is allowed, descriptions of places should be taken from what exists, but two or more places may be combined into one. A reasonable amount of elimination is permissible, but do not attempt to create a town or locality out of your own mind. Select a place that you know something about, and allow your action to occur within it. This will materially assist you, and add much realism to your story. Have a real town or one which approaches the real, and place real characters within it, making them do what you think they would do if they were there and subjected to the conditions you have made for them. Realism plus imagination makes the best com- bination. One without the other is not likely to be interesting to the average reader. U THE ART 01 STORY WRITING Now as to style. There is no acceptable one, and there is no definite rule covering it. It is obvious that no matter how much you have read or studied, you cannot hope to succeed, except in a very moderate way, unless you possess a style of your own, not necessarily one which is a great departure from the styles of others, but one in which there is something which is characteristic of you, and not an exact copy of others. The greatest artist cannot acceptably dupli- cate a great painting from the brush of another. He may obtain inspiration from it, but the real brush-work must be his own, if he would produce more than a mere copy. The writer of fiction should be well read. He should be familiar with literature in general, and intimately acquainted with novels, and the lives, methods, characteristics, and moods of the novel- ist. He will naturally absorb some of the style of others, but provided he does not actually repro- duce it, this borrowing will not injure his work. Above all, he must be himself, — he cannot be any- body else and succeed. He cannot successfully duplicate the success of another. THE WRITING OF NOVELS 16 Individuality counts more in literature than it does in any other department of work. Without personality, no book can be more than mediocre. If you have not enough of it to produce a good story, take up some other calling. I regret to say that fully ninety per cent of book writers would be better off if they shelved their literary ambition. They cannot, or do not, produce matter worthy of publication; and any attempt on their part outrages the public taste and is a failure, even though their work may be printed. Do not allow yourself to feel that you possess great story-writing ability, because in- discriminating friends flatter you. I will guaran- tee to produce a manuscript, worthless and sense- less, and yet find among my friends at least a dozen who will tell me that I have written a work of merit. The majority of our friends either do not discriminate, or are unintentionally un- fair. They condemn what should not be con- demned, and praise what should not be praised. Most of them will tell the writer what he wants to be told, irrespective of the truth. The opinion of one friend, even though he be 16 THE ART OF STORY WRITING a literary expert, should not be considered con- clusive, whether he condemns a manuscript or commends it. The judgment of several discrim- inating literary persons should be obtained, if possible, before the manuscript is sent to the pub- lisher. Of course, I am aware that many a manuscript has been uncompromisingly condemned, and yet the reading public has placed upon it the stamp of approval. And, conversely, it is true that hun- dreds of manuscripts have received enthusiastic ap- proval and have passed muster, yet have been dismal failures. Public opinion is the only court of final resort, and even that is not infallible, for the public has accepted, read, and purchased thousands of books which desecrate white paper. There is not, at the present time, any rule, gauge, or scale which will accurately measure or weigh literary values. Books succeed without ap- parent literary or other quality, and books fail to meet public approval when they are worthy of the highest commendation. The competent literary adviser, reader, or ex- THE WRITING OF NOVELS 17 pert, will tell you that neither he, nor any one else, can diagnose the future of a manuscript, with more than an ordinary degree of correctness. But this condition must not be taken by the would- be writer to indicate that he should, or should not, attempt to produce literature. If he is in- competent to do so, sooner or later he will meet his Waterloo, even though several of his books may appear to be well armored. If he has in him the stuff that authorship is made of, he will win in the end, if he lives long enough. Thousands of would-be writers believe that they have been called to write fiction, and they write; and occasionally gain the appearance of success. The mere call to write should not be considered as prima facie evidence of literary ability, until the call comes from several disconnected directions. Any one with an education may feed upon a dictionary and string words together, and the lines and sentences may be of good construction and not outrage the rules of rhetoric; and yet, compara- tively few can lay tracks with words fit for the train of public approval to travel upon. Fiction writing, with a possible exception of 18 THE ART OF STORY WRITING play writing, is the most remunerative of all. More money has probably been made by story writing than in any other form of literature. The field is broad and unconfined, although strewn with the rocks of competition, the intervening spaces being filled with ever-growing crops. Let not the would-be writer comfort himself with the feeling that because he has an education he can produce acceptable fiction. Some educa- tion is necessary for the proper handling or jug- gling of words, but it is a fact that many of our greatest novelists did not pass academically be- yond the common school. I am not condemning a college education for the would-be novelist. It should help him. But a liberal education in itself will be of little value, unless the holder of it has the proper tempera- ment and imagination, and the ability to create well-conceived and stirring scenes, and to con- struct dialogue or conversation which will, at least, appear to ring true to life, and present to the reader the kind of matter which will interest and entertain him with or without instructing! him. THE WRITING OF NOVELS 19 In other chapters I have discussed several phases of fiction writing, and have spoken par- ticularly of the financial returns. Probably more writers, and would-be writers, take up fiction than any other class of literature, because it appeals to them, and because it is sup- posed to be the most remunerative* CHAPTER III The Writing of a Short Stoey THE number of short-story writers is legion. Probably more than half a million men and women in the United States and Canada think that they can write, and do write, short stories. Not more than five per cent of these are pub- lished, unless they are sent to country weeklies, which are not likely to pay anything for them. It has been said that it is more difficult to write a short story than it is to compose a novel. At any rate, I think there are more successful book writers than there are short-story writers. It is extremely diflScult to handle any subject, or any character, in a few thousand words. The short story, then, to be successful, must cover its ground, not only by the words it con- tains, but by inference. It must pass quickly from one scene to another; the dialogue must be THE WRITING OF A SHORT STORY 21 bright and snappy; and, as in a play, the author must make his characters self-explanatory to a large extent. Many short-story writers make a great mistake in attempting to handle too many characters and situations. It is better to have not more than two or three prominent characters, and to confine the action of the story to one place or to a very few places. If more characters are used, it is dif- ficult, within the limited space, to show reason for their existence; and if they arc frequently trans- planted from one place to another, some explana- tion must be given, which lengthens out the story and makes it too short for a book and too long for a short story. The book writer has opportunity to describe his persons and places. The short-story writer must get down to business, so to speak, present characters, which will be readily understood, and confine the dialogue to quick action, more or less self-explanatory, pertinent, and to the point. He must so arrange this dialogue that, although it is obviously incomplete, it will comprehensively carry the story. 22 THE ART OF STORY WRITING Let us suppose, for example, that his characters are talking upon a certain subject. It is ob- vious that thej would naturally say many times as much as the author has room for in his story. He must weed out with a harrow, and yet, in do- ing so, not make his dialogue jerky or apparently incomplete. Most of the successful short stories are, at least, half dialogue. Much space can be saved by omitting " he said," " said he," " replied he," or " he replied," which need not be used, except when the omission would confuse the reader. In a dialogue, " he said " and the like need not accom- pany more than a third of the spoken words. Of course, when more than two are speaking, it is necessary to precede or follow their remarks with "John said," "I said," or "I replied,'' otherwise the reader will become confused. The characters should not be permitted to speak more than two hundred words at the outside with- out an interruption. If necessary for them to de- liver a sort of lecture, what they say should be broken up into paragraphs, with the use of " re- sumed he," " he resumed," or " he continued." THE WRITING OF A SHORT STORY 23 It is popularly supposed that characters will write themselves, so to speak. This is true, to an extent, but occurs more in books than in short stories. The short-story writer should lay out his plot or scheme in advance, using the fewest number of characters, and one or two places. With this working outline in his mind, he places these char- acters in their situations and makes them work out his story, rapidly, and yet not apparently abruptly. If the story is one of adventure, or largely de- scriptive of some particular place, there may be less dialogue or conversation. It is always ad- visable, whenever it is possible to do so, to make the characters explain the situation, rather than to have long descriptions or explanations between the " heats " of conversation. The inexperienced short-story writer is very prone to moralize, to overdescribe, to make what he calls a character-study. It is, then, more of an essay than a story, and is less interesting to the reader. A short story must fairly radiate life and ac- M THE ART OF STORY WRITING tion. The characters must do things and sa^ things. It should end with a sort of climax, not necessarily a sensational one. Either the con- versation, or a short explanation, should bring things up to a finish. If the leading character is to die in the last paragraph, he either must have completed his work, or else his sudden taking away must be satisfactory to the reader. Stories with sad endings are not popular. If you are writing a sentimental short story, either marry the couple or assure the reader that they are going to be married. If there is a villain in the story, he should re- ceive his deserts before the story closes. Either punish him or reform him. Do not leave him where he was in the first place. If the story is of adventure, do not let a wild beast kill your hero in the last paragraph. He must come out ahead of the game, but there is no particular objection to allowing a lion to get the better of the villain. If a husband and wife lead the story, and they have misunderstandings, let them kiss each other before you are through with them, or obtain a THE WRITING OF A SHORT STORY 25 respectable divorce, each to marry somebody else. If there is nothing sensational, or out of the ordinary, then your characters must be unusually brilliant and their conversation about common things above the average in wit and pointedness. The public does not want to know how a mother toasted cheese, unless the toasting of cheese plays an important part on the domestic stage. Each character must either do something which is a little unusual, or say common things in a brilliant way. They should act and talk as they would probably do, if placed in the situations created for them, subject to permissible exaggeration. If they merely appear to represent the author's style, and do not have what is an apparent per- sonality of their own, then the story, even though it may be filled with conversation, is but a verbal essay. The characters should show diverse character- istics. There should be no two of them alike. Each one should appear to be a sort of specialist of his kind, however natural the portrayal may be. 96 THE ART OF STORY WRITING Descriptions should doTetail into the policy of the story. If, for example, your hero is a miner, there is no need of describing the general con- dfitions of his mining town, unless they have a bearing upon the story itself. Better keep your miner in the mine or near the mine, and let him associate almost entirely with those he comes in contact with in real life. Do not run off at a tangent, and attempt to describe what is not per- tinent to the story, or to take the character out of tibe story's environment. Concentrate both com- position and description, keeping close within the lines of what it is necessary for the reader to know, that he may understand the situation. Do not have too many sides to a character. Do not attempt to cover the whole town. The successful short story is about a few peo- ple, and what they do in a short period of time wiOun a limited territory. Of course, you can allow several years to elapse between one incident and another, but even then joa need not change either your characters or horses on the trip, and the lapsing period of sev- eral jears requires but a line for explanation. THE WRITING OF A SHORT STORY «7 Short stories may begin with a cooTersation, or with a description, and maj dose with a few words of one of the characters, or the story maj end with a brief simw i iiig op. Short stories should contain not less than twentj-fire hundred words, nor more than fire or six thousand. CHAPTER IV The Stoey of Adventure THE story of adventure, including the por- trayal of danger, and of even hairbreadth escapes, is, and always will be, of selling quality. Every magazine, and all other periodicals, publish one or more of these stories every year ; and there are two magazines devoted exclusively to this class of literature. The story of adventure, which is realistic and interesting, and holds the attention of the reader, is invariably written by one familiar with the life depicted. One who is not, should not attempt to produce it. If he does, he will be writing at arm's length, and is not likely to give out anything which will meet with more than indifferent accept- ance. No one can properly present the sport of fish- ing, who is not a fisherman, and who has not as- 28 THE STORY OF ADVENTURE ^9 sociated with fishermen. It is impossible for any one to place upon paper a vivid description of the woods, unless he has lived in them and tramped through them. One unfamiliar with wild beasts should keep the jungle out of his stories. While experience with danger and with adven- ture is not, in itself, sufficient for the writing of this class of literature, and while ability properly to present what has occurred is essential, it is ob- vious that no amount of ability will produce an ac- ceptable result unless the writer is in close touch with what he is attempting to portray. The story of adventure must be vividly and strikingly realistic, and should, as a rule, have a happy or successful ending. The adventurer, or the principal characters in the story, should not be killed, but should come out victorious. Occasionally it is possible for a seasoned writer to produce an acceptable story of adven- ture, taking his points from one who has experi- enced it; but familiarity with danger will enable him better to report what is told him, than he pos- sibly can if he has only the tale of one who has passed through the scenes. Therefore, I would 30 THE ART OF STORY WRITING say that one had better not attempt this class of writing, unless he has experienced the unusual, and has a temperament which will allow him to write out facts and impressions vividly. The writing of regular or ordinary matter or literature is easier, and is hkely to be more ac- ceptable to the reader. CHAPTER V The Mystbry Stouy THERE is, at present, a demand, which may not be permanent, for stories of mystery, containing intricate plots, each character confus- ing the others and the reader, the riddle to be solved in the last chapter. It is difficult to form the plot of a mystery story so as to sustain the interest of the reader for sev- eral hundred pages, and then to clear up the puzzle in a few words or pages. I would advise the would-be novelist not to at- tempt the mystery form of story, unless he has reason to believe that he can skillfully construct the plot, and create action, which, in itself, will be interesting. Of course, all stories should carry the reader to the solution, and there should be some mystery in them, but this cannot be handled SI 32 THE ART OF STORY WRITING with the intensity of the successful mystery novel except by a few writers. Not one writer in a thousand, — I may say, not one writer in ten thousand, — can successfully originate or write out a mystery story. Better not attempt the very difficult, until you have mastered the simpler forms of story writing. CHAPTER VI The Detective Stobt THE marvelous success of Dr. Dojle, prin- cipally with his ** Sherlock Holmes," has flooded the market with detective stories of every class and grade, most of them too improbable to be interesting and entertaining. No one can write an acceptable detective story, unless he has the detective instinct, which he may possess without being a professional detective. I would not advise the young writer to attempt a story of a detective nature, unless some detec- tive or officer has outlined the scheme for him, until be has come in contact with those things which make up a detective's work. He cannot be realistic, unless he has lived in the atmosphere of crime, either as a detective or officer, or in close association with it. He may be able to produce, in his imagination. SS ^ THE ART OF STORY WRITING a detective story which reads smoothly to the average reader; but it is obvious that his im- perfectly constructed scheme will meet with harsh criticisms from newspaper men and others, who will readily detect the writer's inexperience and unfamiliarity with the subject. Here, as in other places, I would advise the young writer not to attempt anything out of the ordinary in the way of plot, until he becomes familiar with neces- sary conditions, and has a mind adaptable to them. When in doubt, keep in the middle of the road of literature. Geniuses and experts only have the right of way over the sidetracks and bypaths. CHAPTER Vn Stories for Children THERE is an increasing demand for chil- dren's stories, — stories for children to read or to have read to them. Because it is so difficult to write this class of literature, there is comparatively little of it on the market ; and there is, perhaps, more opportu- nity in this direction than in any other. Bear in mind, however, that it is more difficult to write an acceptable children's story, than it is to pro- duce almost anything else in the line of story writing. It is easier for^the educated person to use big words than to practice simplicity, and simplicity is all important in stories for children. No one has ever produced a second " Robinson Crusoe.'* This book stands, to-day, as the great- est story ever written for children and young 35 36 THE ART OF STORY WRITING people. Every word is simple, every sentence can be understood. The experienced writer, particularly if he be well-educated, and associates with literary men, has an almost unquenchable tendency to produce a style which certainly does not represent sim- plicity. He uses long words and complex sentences. His meaning is not always easily understood; his situations are sometimes difficult to com- prehend; his descriptions are often hard to grasp. Therefore, he cannot produce a story which will interest children, and if he attempts to do so, his failure is assured. The successful writer of stor'ies for children lays his plot close to the home. His incidents are homemade; and unless his story is one of travel, he does not often remove his characters beyond the town they live in. His dialogues and conversations are simple and natural; his characters are those which the chil- dren understand, because they live with them or have seen them. He does not take anything for granted, and all that he writes is self-explanatory, or he explains it in the simplest words. STORIES FOR CHILDREN 37 Nearly every newspaper either maintains a children's department or frequently runs stories jr anecdotes for children; and the call for this sort of matter is increasing. Book publishers are looking for manuscripts of good stories for children, and many magazines carry them. Do not attempt to produce this class of story unless you KNOW children. It is, however, ad- mitted that the bearing of children is not essential to the production of child lore or story. Many of the ablest writers, as well as many of the most ef- ficient keepers of homes for children, are neither mothers nor wives; in fact, experience would seem to indicate that motherhood is not always condu- cive to the wisest practice of child-care. The maiden, who is without the bias of motherhood, and may see with wider vision and write with broader pen, often understands the child-problem better than does she, who, because she is a mother, can- not as readily differentiate between mother-love and mother-duty. Speaking of simplicity, it should be cultivated by writers of every kind of literature. The best stories are simple; the best writers, — S8 THE ART OF STORY WRITING those who live, — did not spill the dictionary over their pages. Although their plots may be com- plicated and mysterious, and they may handle weighty subjects, their pen- and word-pictures approach simplicity, for they have kneaded clear- ness with complexity until the whole lump Is leavened with digestible simplicity. CHAPTER Vin HuMOBOus Wettino THERE always has been, is, and always will be, a market for good humor. I am sorry to say, however, that I doubt if there arc more than two dozen writers of humor in the United States who earn a livelihood with their pens. Most of the so-called funny stories, which ap- pear in the newspapers, are copied from the hu- morous papers, or are written by staff editors, who receive no additional pay for the funny stuff they originate. The humorous papers pay good prices, but there are less than half a dozen of them all told. These papers usually pay the writer of a joke, occupying an inch or two of tjrpe, from one to five dollars. The authors of humorous sketches, or articles appearing in these papers, receive any- where from five to twenty-five dollars for a short 39 40 THE ART OF STORY WRITING column. It is obvious, however, that the avail- able space in all these periodicals put together is very limited. It is also self-evident that no one humorous paper would care to carry more than one article per issue, or per few issues, of any one writer. Therefore, the humorous writer, even of the highest grade, may not find a field for more than a part of his work. The syndicate offers him, perhaps, the best op- portunity. With one or two exceptions, I think the highest price ever paid for syndicate matter is now given to a writer of humor. It is said that one of them receives over a thousand dollars for an article occupying not over a column, but he is a great exception. The demand for humorous books is increasing, and the sale of some of them is enormous. It is obvious, however, that the humor which sells must not only be of the highest quality, but highly sea- sonable. Further, there must be interwoven into the very fiber, threads of philosophy and sense. The book must stand for more than humor. It must have action, characters, a plot, and much dialogue. HUMOROUS WRITING 41 I do not believe that it is possible for any one to learn to be humorous. One may have a keen sense of humor, and wear a perpetual smile, and yet be unable to produce it. It has been said, — and the remark is not wholly devoid of the truth, — that the humorist never laughs, and that the man who laughs is never a humorist Many a man is witty in con- versation, and yet cannot write humorous matter; and, on the other hand, I know of several men who, as speakers, cannot produce even the lifting of the eyebrow, and yet are able to write matter so bright and so witty that even the misanthrope cannot refrain from smiling. The writing of humor is an art by itself. Very few possess the ability. Financially speaking, there is little or nothing for the ordinary writer of funny stuff, and much money for the exceptional producer of it. I would suggest that the humorous writer com- municate both with the syndicates and with the book publishers; and, further, that he attempt to establish a humorous column in a newspaper. Most of our humor writers began on newspa- 42 THE ART OF STORY WRITING pers, and they first attracted attention as para- graphers. With this training, they became full- fledged humorists. Many writers can construct one or a few humor- ous paragraphs, but to continue to do so, or to carry humor through several hundred pages, is another proposition. Half of the so-called humorous books, articles, and stories have failed, not because they did not begin in a witty way, but because their humor was not sustained, and because it was not properly set to real life, although it exaggerated persons and conditions. Humor, psychologically speaking, is an attack, the speaker or writer of it hurling his spoken or written words at his hearer or reader. If what he says or writes is pleasant to receive, and cre- ates an involuntary laugh or smile, then it is humorous and he is producing acceptable humor. If the attack is merely sarcasm, and wounds the one at whom it is aimed, it may be humorous to the unhit fellow, but it does not please, its imme- diate audience. HUMOROUS WRITING 43 Acceptable humor, then, is that which pleases to the extent of amusing. It may be pointed and sharp, but it should, like the boomerang, wonder- fully and gracefully gyrate through the air, to fall at last, with spent energy, at the feet of him who hurled it. Further, real humor is not dis- torted fact, but rather fact not set in its regular setting. Its exaggeration, however great it may be, is the picture of truth, set, may I say, in a wabbly frame or one which is not symmetrical or straight. Humor consists of taking things from the nat- ural world, and of playing them upon a specially created, and somewhat unnatural, stage; but the natural individuality or personality of each char- acter must be preserved, although some or all features may be bent, curved, or exaggerated. Even an attempt to present the impossible may be humorous, if the exaggeration is carried suffi- ciently far to be transparent to the reader; but this extravaganza is not generally acceptable. The reader, as he runs, prefers that the hu- morous sketch present the real things of life, with 44 THE ART OF STORY WRITING unusual settings, and that they be placed in lights which illumine them and give them excuse for be- ing not impossible, but unusual. Do not try to be funny, if you are not naturally humorous. Bad narrative or argument is bad enough, but bad humor is an abomination. CHAPTER IX Special Stobies ob Abticles UNDER this heading I will discuss stories with their action on shipboard, on the railroad, or under any other conditions which do not appear in the everyday life of the average man. Many a writer has produced an unacceptable story, because he has laid the plot upon the rail- road though he knew nothing about transporta- tion. The author on the western prairie, who has never seen a vessel larger than a canoe or flat- boat, had better not place his characters upon shipboard, until he has experienced water travel. Do not allow your leading character, or any other prominent one, to bring his business, trade, or profession into the story more than inciden- tally, unless you are familiar with it. If you are ignorant of art, do not attempt to make your hero into an artist. If you do not 46 46 THE ART OF STORY WRITING know something of journalism, keep newspaper men out of your story. If you have no knowl- edge of law, do not try to describe a court scene, except incidentally. If your leading character is a physician, keep away from the practice of his profession, and handle him, not as a doctor, but as a man. You cannot describe anything, or any person, with whom you are unfamiliar. If, however, you find it necessary to place in your story a specialist, and cannot avoid describ- ing the sensations of that profession, get into close contact with one or more men representing it, and attempt to get their view-points; then, after your story is finished, ask them to criticise that part of it which pertains to the action of their vocation. It is not necessary for you to be an expert along any special line, but unless you are famil- iar with it, you cannot properly describe it, or realistically present a character in the environ- ment of his trade or under other conditions pe- culiar to his calling or tastes. CHAPTER X Thjs Wbitino of Poetby IF it is difficult, if not impossible, to formulate general rules or directions which may be fol- lowed for the composition of the novel or other work of fiction, it may be said that it is " more than impossible " to present even the semblance of directions for the making of poetry, other than essays on the diction and forms of verse, which may be found in several textbooks, including rhet- orics. It is not the province of this book to produce printed instruments for the weighing or measur- ing of feet, meter, or rhyme, but rather to make a few suggestions, which must not be considered directions, and to comment upon the market or commercial value of that ever-growing and over- spreading plant, poetry, — or, more popularly speaking, verse, — among whose luxuriant and 47 48 THE ART OF STORY WRITING often seemingly worthless foliage there occasion- ally bloom the fairest flowers of literature. Judging from the present crop of verse or rhyme, little of which shows poetical tempera- ment on the part of its writers, versification is growing more rapidly than the most prolific weed in the most fertile soil, and is far more difficult to subdue. Aptitude for versifying is very common, the jingle of words pleasing, and the sport of turning a clever phrase absorbing. Besides these temptations, every man and woman is at heart a potential poet, — the deep experiences of life move to stately measures, and the ideal of thought seeks to clothe itself in the ideal of expression. For these reasons, the annual output of verse, per capita, is much greater than the annual out- put of prose. Besides, verse may be brief, and a transient inspiration may be given short shrift be- fore the mood changes. The facility shown by the average producer of verse is purely mechanical, and quite on a level with the common abilit}^ to dance or sing. Just as there is an infinite chasm between mediocrity and genius in singing and in dancing, so there is THE WRITING OF POETRY 49 a like chasm in poetry. That the average per- son has some facility speaks well for the race ; it is of no moment in the consideration of the art. The class of versifiers who send their lines to the newspapers and magazines is large for several reasons: First, poetic fame is the highest which the literary art has to offer; therefore, it has many aspirants. Conscious aspiration for it, as a thing in itself, is the most certain sign that one is not favored with true inspiration. All of this class are prolific, and keep manuscript readers busy, but they do not " drug the market " as they never get into the market. The only circulation which their work receives is privately among their friends, in manuscript or cheaply printed form, or in the columns of the local newspaper, which prints it out of compliment to them and without thought of paying for it. Secondly, the tendency of the average person, whose words are weightier than his thoughts, is to rattle them about in his mind like loose change in his pocket, — and with equal profit. Thirdly, many attempt to write verse because of the real and worthy vein of sentiment in every 50 THE ART OF STORY WRITING human heart, which makes impassioned expres- sion, — and that is what poetry is essentially, — natural to every one when deeply stirred. The lover is always, at moments, a poet, though he be tongue-tied. He who is melancholy for any reason, serious or trivial, drinks for the moment of the fountains which ever feed the souls of the poet and philosopher. Therefore, it is not to be wondered at that there is much verse in the world. That much of it is commercially valueless is a foregone conclusion. The people who write verse with serious purpose and notable result are of two classes, and it is with their product that the critic has to deal, and deal honestly. If he flinches from his task, or ma,kes a mistake, the results are dire and his shame is great. The first class is composed of the writers whose special forte is some field other than poetry, but who have talent enough, and earnestness enough, occasionally to turn out a really excellent poem. They are the real competitors of the poet, both in the market and in the hall of fame. But if their talent in another direction is ever acknowledged, THE WRITING OF POETRY 51 or if their inclination is toward some other form of expression, their competition is only transient, and posterity never mistakes them for real poets. The credentials of the real poet are always pat- ent to those who know him personally. In his early writings it may be very difficult to distin- guish him from other tainted litterateurs. Therein lies his danger, and the all too frequent tragedies in the lives of the poets. His work is almost sure to be unconventional and startling; therefore, it meets the condemnation of the criti- cal manuscript reader who has fed on conventions until they are bred in the bone. The true poet cannot have recourse to prose, because what he writes is poetry whatever the form it takes. There may be no known rhyme or meter in his work; it may be as elemental in form as the singing of the waters and the pulsations of the winds; but it is not prose, either in its spirit or its diction, and will not be whipped into regu- lar lines. While the real poet is gathering food for song out of life's experiences, and learning the cones of his soul, his genius looks like mediocrity or tal- 52 THE ART OF STORY WRITING ent, and he has no answer to his critics except the call of his future, which they cannot hear. So he is like to drown in the vast flood of verse which the publishers receive, and if he escapes that fate, he is apt to be long left stranded upon the rocks while the talented writers who are not poets by birth are taken off. If, these perils passed, his persistent and skillful knocking at the door of literary opportunity lets him in, his fare is poor and scanty, because there are so many poetasters who must be fed first. He does, however, even- tually win recognition, and then, long after fame, a livelihood. Strange to say, the battle for poetic recogni- tion is repeated in every generation, as each poet has to conquer singlehanded a world of his own, and the appreciation of the actual commercial and artistic value of his work has to wait until he has educated his public into an understanding of the new knowledge he has brought them. If anybody must be born for his work, the real poet must be born into it. Rhymesters are incuba- tor-reared. Probably every writer, male or fe- male, and of every condition, including servitude, THE WRITING OF POETRY 53 has sometime in his career thrown out rhymes more or less connected with rhythm, many of them creating the suspicion that the writer has swal- lowed a spelling book, or attempted to eat a dic- tionary, with consequent indigestion. Every one of the leading magazines receives monthly from a hundred to a thousand alleged poetical productions, some of the verses of which actually rhyme; and the average newspaper, in- cluding the country weekly, does not need to pur- chase waste paper to start the fire with, if it uses for kindlings the rejected manuscripts of verses. Many a would-be poet, who cannot write poetry, ignores the prose he might produce, and attempts to set up in verse thoughts which have not strength enough to run away. The alleged poets of America write, or other- wise produce, more than a million verses a year, and seventy-five per cent of them desecrate the paper upon which they are written. Twenty per cent of them are not injurious, and four per cent of them offer excuse for publication. One per cent of them redeem the whole. If the alleged poets could hear the comments 54 THE ART OF STORY WRITING made upon their rhymes by editors and other judges of poetry, many of them would not at- tempt to express themselves in verse. Real poetry, — the kind that lives, — contains the innermost thought of the master mind, and even the best of prose fails to reveal the emotions of the heart, and the convictions of the thoughtful brain, as well as they may be portrayed in verse. Genuine poetry has the highest literary value, and is commercially remunerative. The rhymes and verses, which appear in the newspapers and in most of the magazines, are insufficient unto the day thereof, and are seldom remembered, and, if paid for, receive sums hardly worth the taking. True, some of the better class of magazines pay as high as fifty dollars, or even five hundred dol- lars, for a poem, but comparatively few poets realize more than five to ten dollars per piece for their labors. Newspapers seldom, if ever, pay for a rhjnne or verse, unless it be of humorous character, or is particularly seasonable ; and then the sum realized hy the writer is not likely to exceed five or ten dollars. THE WRITING OF POETRY 56 The best poetry is published in book form, and all, or some, of the verses may have appeared in the magazines. There are, in the United States to-day, prob- ably not exceeding twenty-five who receive a reasonable income from their poetry, and I do not recall the names of more than half a dozen who make a living at it. If you have an exceedingly vivid, and yet con- trolled, imagination, and are able profitably to search the very depth of your mind, and if your mind be of unusual depth, and you are poetically inclined, probably you can produce poetry which may be sold and read. Do not imagine for one moment, however, that because you are sentimen- tal, you are a poet. More than mere sentimen- tality is necessary for the production of real poetry. The superabundance of rhymes and verses upon the market has depreciated the poetry price, and the chances are that few receive more than small sums, even for verses which are worthy of publica- tion. Comparatively few people can write real poetry. 56 THE ART OF STORY WRITING It is difficult, even with a vivid imagination and with great ability, to place the innermost thoughts of the soul upon paper. Thousands of writers have poetical minds. They can produce poetry in prose, but not poetry in rhyme. Their best thoughts, their highest sentiments, they may find difficult to place upon paper under the handi- cap of the necessity of making one line rhyme with another. These writers can best express themselves in what is called poetic prose, for which there is an open market. Commercially speaking, the field of poetry is greatly limited. Probably not exceeding one dozen magazines will pay more than a few dol- lars for a poem of merit, and book publishers re- fuse, as a rule, to consider the publication of a book of poems, unless the writer is one of a dozen, with a reputation sufficient to carry the book. The only wise rule to follow is that he who can write prose should not attempt poetry. He may find that, among his prose, he has inadvertently written a few poems. If so, well, as his prose is all the richer for so great a degree of talent. But if, while modestly attempting prose, he finds, and THE WRITING OF POETRY 67 the world also finds, that he has written nothing but poetry, then his fate is inevitable, — he must accept a poet's fame, though with it come onlj a meager livelihood CHAPTER XI Play Writing PLAY writing, although it may be considered in a literary class preeminently its own, re- quires the same amount of imagination, original- ity, and ability, which is necessary for the con- struction of a work of fiction. Unless one is familiar with the stage, both from the back of it, and from the view-point of the au- ditorium, it is probable that he cannot produce a profitable or acceptable play. The writer of book or magazine fiction may ex- plain its characters and situations in the text, and is not wholly dependent upon dialogue or conversa- tion. In the play, the characters, by action and prin- cipally by spoken words, carry the burden of the plot; in fact, the success of the play is as de- pendent upon what is said as upon the plot itself. A play, then, is virtually a story worked out 58 PLAY WRITING 59 largely in conversation, with the assistance of scenery and situations. The writer of it, there- fore, must explain his situations, and unravel his plot, very largely by the words he places in the mouths of his actors. If, for example, he desires to bring out the characteristics or local color of a town, he must do so from spoken words, which in themselves must explain the situation and be suf- ficient for the audience to obtain by easy inference an idea of what is taking place. Of course, the costumes worn and the scenery will assist, but they are subordinate to the dialogue itself. The playwright may, at times, allow the actors to think aloud, to speak what are technically known as " asides," but soliloquy must be used very spar- ingly in the modem drama, for the audience de- mands active action, not passive action. It is necessary, then, for the playwright to pre- sent, by spoken words, and with the assistance of costume, scenery, and situations, the scheme of his play, — something which cannot be done unless one is thoroughly familiar with stage conditions. The writer of a book, or of a story, can present his scheme with the introduction of written expla- 60 THE ART OF STORY WRITING nations, and can move his characters and scenes consistently from one place to another by the in- troduction of a few words. On the stage, conditions are diametrically oppo- site. Explanations, except by conversation, are practically impossible, and lapses are not per- mitted without the dropping of the curtain. If the leading character in a book, for example, desires to change his clothes, he can do so almost instantaneously ; but on the stage he must be given sufficient time; and, if this change is made while the curtain is up, the author must keep the play moving and interesting to the audience until the leading man returns. The playwright must provide for all emergen- cies, and not allow the action to be discontinued for even a moment, except when the curtain is down; and he is required to so arrange his con- versation and situations that the several charac- ters will appear and reappear consistently. Then, it is by no means easy, in the limited num- ber of words which can be spoken during the acting of the play, to present situations, or to explain them; and it is far more difficult to do this on the PLAY WRITING 61 stage than it is to accomplish the same thing in a book. A book-writing license allows the author to carry a long conversation, plentifully interspersed with explanation. On the stage long speeches are seldom permissible, and there is neither time nor place for inactive explanations. The action must be rapid, continuous, and self-explanatory. The playwright must not only produce dialogue or speaking parts, but he must create situations which can be so handled by the actors that they will be intelligible to the audience. He cannot leave much to the imagination. He must present his story so that they can grasp it, and follow it without perceptible effort. Of course, the playwright may not expose the finish of the plot until the last act, but interest must be sustained even though the audience is kept guessing at the result. As many of the audience arrive late, and as there seems to be no way in sight to remedy this evil, which shows a general lack of culture and breeding, the playwright is often obliged to open his play with insignificant words, spoken by minor 62 THE ART OF STORY WRITING characters, and to postpone the beginning of the unraveling of his plot until the middle of the first act. This same condition prevails at the close of the play, when half of the audience is getting ready to leave. Consequently, the great climax should come a few minutes before the dropping of the final curtain. Some playwrights very ingeniously construct their plays, so that the audience does not realize that one is about to close until it comes to an end with a dramatic snap. Love and sentiment seem to be essential to the success of the majority of modern plays, and prac- tically all profitable ones contain several love-mak- ing scenes. The play usually has three leading characters: first, the hero; secondly, the heroine; thirdly, the villain. For the purpose of relaxing the intensity of the interest, secondary and yet prominent characters are introduced, and these parts are sustained by what are known as male and female juveniles, or young people who are in love with each other, and whose love-making is humorous to some ex- PLAY WRITING 68* tent. There are usually introduced other char- acters as fillers: a servant or two, a tradesman, a lawyer, a doctor, one or two mothers, a couple of mothers-in-law, factory hands, a policeman, a judge, or a conservative business man. Successful plays have been written, however, with not exceeding four, five, or six persons in the cast, but the majority of them have a dozen speak- ing parts, and occasionally twice that number. Even the so-called populace is introduced, — men, women, and children who merely walk or play, with few of them speaking more than a dozen words. Besides producing the conversational part of the play, and creating the situations, the author must suggest the clothes to be worn, and mark in the entrances and exits. To be successful, the playwright must be pro- ficient in climaxing. The curtain should never fall upon a flat or dull line. Something snappy, witty, or of climax quality should close every scene and act. While the great climax comes at the end or close to the end, there should be subor- dinate climaxes occurring with each change of scene or dropping of the curtain. The first act 64 THE ART OF STORY WRITING of a two-act play should end with a considerable climax, and there should be a strong climax at the end of the second act of a three-act play, and at the end of the third act of a four- or five-act play. The playwright has before him one great ob- stacle, which it is hard to meet. It is often diffi- cult, if not impossible, properly to balance a play to the satisfaction of the leading man or woman. Often these actors demand what is known as the front of the stage, and most of the speaking parts, particularly the strong ones. Let us suppose, for example, that one of the minor characters intro- duced is that of an able and far-sighted man of unusual judgment. He can consistently be given strong words to say, and large opportunities. But if the leading actor does not sustain this part, much of what this character could be permitted to speak or act must be eliminated, for if this is not done, the words and opportunities of the leading man will be shadowed. The playwright, then, is not only obliged to produce an acceptable play from the view-point of the audience, but he must, in many cases, write his PLAY WRITING 66 words, and arrange his situations, to the satis- faction of the leading actors. Probably half of the successful plays are writ- ten especially for some one actor or actress, who demands continuous prominence, even to the sacri- fice of the others in the cast. It is usually essential, therefore, for the play- wright to keep the leading actor and actress con- tinually in the lime-light, and in the front of the stage, even if he has seriously to blanket other lights which could consistently shine. The rapid growth of the stock company is de- cidedly to the playwright's advantage; for the stock company, while it has its leading men and women, is not likely to employ stars of more than ordinary magnitude. The manager of the stock company does not al- ways give his leading men and women the strong- est parts. Therefore, a play which might not suit a brilliant star, will be acceptable to the stock company. Unfortunately, comparatively few new plays are brought out by stock companies, at the pres- ent time; but with the growth of these organiza- 66 THE ART OF STORY WRITING tions, the day is rapidly approaching when stock company managers will be able to own plays of a quality equal to that of those which they now lease. The most successful plays, as they run, end happily. The hero and heroine get married or their engagement is announced. The villain, who has interfered, receives his deserts. Everything is cleaned up, with virtue winning. The play termi- nates to the satisfaction of the audience. Occa- sionally plays have succeeded with sad endings, but, as a rule, it is better to have them close to the pleasure of the audience. May I not diverge for a while, and attempt to describe the several classes of plays? What is known as the one-act play, or curtain- raiser, is usually presented at a vaudeville house. It seldom has more than three or four characters, often only two. A bell-boy or other stage attache may be employed as a walking part. The action is extremely rapid, the dialogue brilliant (or is supposed to be), and more or less witty, unless the play is tragic; but comparatively few of the latter class are on the boards. PLAY WRITING 67 Much license is given to these plays, for the average audience will accept even the grossest ex- aggerations. They contain but a few thousand words, and occupy a time of not exceeding thirty minutes, many of them being written into as short a period as twenty minutes. The play must start with a rush and end in a hurry; and as there is little opportunity for explanation, the words and situations must be vividly self-explanatory. The action of practicaUy all of these one-act plays is located in one spot, and usually in one room, or in a garden, grove, or on shipboard. The so-called monologue can hardly be consid- ered a play. A monologue consists of a continu- ous train of remarks by one person, who may be seated in a parlor, or standing on the street ; and it is not required that the train of words remain on the track. It may be switched on to sidetracks, and run wild. Usually the actor of it illustrates what are supposed to be personal experiences. Practically all successful monologues are of a hu- morous nature, and most of them describe impos- sible situations, but with a strain of truth run- ning through them. 6S THE ART OF STOHY WRITING Usually the vaudeville programme contains what is known as a talking or acting team ; two men, two women, or a man and a woman, generally gro- tesquely dressed, and who may or may not add dancing to their parts. They carry on a dialogue, always humorous (or of an alleged humor). There is no plot involved. The foregoing plays, if I may call them such, are not technically known as " legitimate." " Le- gitimate " is hardly the word, but I use it because it is a stage term. So-called legitimate plays are of several kinds: first, the farcical comedy, which is nonsensical from start to finish, has little or no real plot, and is usually without consistency. It is, as a matter of fact, a form of continuous vaudeville, with just enough plot for excuse to hold it together. It is supposed to be humorous throughout, and every spoken word is intended to represent wit or sar- casm. If there are any sober characters, they are used as a background for frivolity. Many of these plays are written especially for one actor or actress, so as to bring out their par- ticular mannerisms and exceptional capabilities. PLAY WRITING 69 These farcial comedies are usually produced with a large number of supernumeraries, — men and women who dance and perform other antics, and who are dressed in spectacular costumes. The extravaganza is not far removed in quality, or in substance, from the farcial comedy, except that it is more extreme, is more elaborately staged, and is allowed more license. Its spoken lines may rhyme. It is likely to present hardly the sem- blance of a plot. The action runs riot, and the actors run amuck. Some singing is introduced, but the success of the thing (I label it " thing " because it can hardly be called a play), is due al- most entirely to the eccentric acting of the lead- ing characters, to the costuming, and to an expo- sure of anatomy, principally of the hosiery end of women. Of course, the farcical comedy and extravaganza have to have playwrights, who must be proficient in erratic originality, and be able to produce sit- uations rather than commendable dialogue. The musical comedy and comic opera are some- what synonymous. Most of the spoken words are presenifed in song, usually with considerable spec- 70 THE ART OF STORY WRITING tacular effects, including the ballet. Some of them are genuine works of the highest art, with music which will not offend the ear of the masters of music. The Gilbert and Sullivan operas represent a dis- tinct class of stage production, and they have con- tributed enormously to the pleasure of the peoplcc There are others as good, or nearly so; but the majority of the so-called musical comedies, or comic operas, are merely vaudeville shows, strung out, and elaborated with music which should out- rage the taste of an intelligent audience; yet they succeed, because they are eye-pleasing, and be- cause they have a swing and a go which gratifies the public taste. The excuse for their existence may be in the remark of the great composer who said that all music is music. The regular comedy is a play of two, three, four, or five acts, with as many or more scenes, and which is half-serious and half-light, with in- terjections of wit and humor. It is not intended to be heavy. The spoken words are conversation- ally brilliant and up-to-date, and the situations change rapidly. There is a distinct plot, which is PLAY WRITING 71 worked out to a climax. The villain is introduced, and the hero gets the better of him frequently, — at any rate, before the play closes. Dancing and spectacular scenes are not introduced, except occa- sionally, and then in a subordinate way. The average comedy has at least six speaking parts, and sometimes double that number; and many of them are the work of master playwrights. They are, commercially speaking, the most suc- cessful plays. The plot is not particularly intense, but the action and situations are, at least, apparently natural. The villain, if there be one, sustains the second, third, or fourth part in relative importance, al- though he sometimes ranks with the leading man. Many of these comedies are society plays, and quite a number of them present country and farm- life conditions. What is known as the melodrama is a play of great intensity, with harrowing situations, several hair-breadth escapes, and a strong plot. The hero and heroine invariably meet with disaster, and this condition prevails until the close of the play. 72 THE ART OF STORY WRITING There are introduced one or more villains of the deepest dye, whose business it is to ruin the hero, or heroine, or both of them. Virtue is placed upon a pedestal and surrounded with the white clouds of purity; the villain is in evening dress, and, for a while, remains unscorched by the fire of retribu- tion ; but the fire is there, although it is for stage purposes kept from premature bursting. Firearms play important parts. The hero or the heroine is probably close to death or capture once or several times during the play. The vil- lain is usually master of the situation until the last act, and often until the very close of the play, when he commits suicide, or meets with a violent death, or is arrested, and the curtain goes down with the hero and heroine clasped in each other's arms, the mother-in-law reconciled, and the vil- lain either dead, dying, or handcuffed to an officer who is about to incarcerate him. Usually this play has a streak of comedy run- ning through it, with one or more characters enliv- ening the scenes and introducing more or less fun ; but as a whole it is intense. It is said that one writer of this class of plays PLAY WRITING 7S has accumulated more than a million dollars, al- though most of his productions were presented at second-class theaters and in the small country towns. His leading characters always represent abject poverty, and have to struggle to keep soul and body from separation. The leading actor sus- tains, or, rather, assumes, the part of a farmer, a laborer, or sailor, or that of an underpaid under- clerk. The leading actress portrays, or attempts to, the character of a maid, a salesgirl, or poor seamstress, who is attractive physically if not men- tally. The hero is a modem Adonis, but never dressed like one; at any rate not until the last scene of the last act. The villain is always bold, bad, and terrible, and wants to marry the heroine. In order to get rid of the hero, who is virtue personified, he plots his ruin or death. He may throw him overboard or attempt to have him cut up with a buzz-saw. He may plan a defalcation, which involves the hero. He may have him discharged and bring him to the verge of starvation. He may imprison the girl, or hold her in some den, her promise to marry him being her key to freedom. Although the hero may 74 THE ART OF STORY WRITING occasionally thwart him, the villain continues to be the winner until the final curtain is about to de- scend. The play always works out to the complete sat- isfaction of the hero and heroine, and to the au- dience. With one crash, the villain is suppressed and virtue is surrounded with rainbows. The stormy clouds, no matter how black, are sun-kissed at the close. Habitual attendants of theaters will remember the old lines spoken by the poor mother, who rushes upon the stage with disheveled hair and calico dress, and screams at the top of her voice, " My child, my child, who will save my child? " The vil- lain has pursued, and may grab her child; then, with a burst from the orchestra, — the drum in tremendous evidence, — the hero rushes upon the stage, and with one blow knocks the villain to the ground, even though he possesses the physique of a pugilist, and the hero has the face and frame of a consumptive. Exaggeration to the limit of the possible is per- missible. But is there such a word as exaggera- tion in the dictionary of life.? Often we discover PLAY WRITING 75 deeper pits and more terrible anguish in life than the mind of man, even that of the melodrama makery can conceive, or the pen can place upon paper. The success of the melodrama is largely due to the fact that in it virtue gets its reward, and gets it quickly, and things turn out as they should, but do not, always, in the action of reality. There are, however, several melodramas upon the boards which are of the highest grade, and portray the tragic side of real life consistently and vividly. Tragedy is not a frequenter of the modem stage, with the exception of those written by Shakes- peare and by other great masters. It is likely to be founded upon some historical event, and its char- acters may represent those who have lived, or they may be created by the playwright. Battle scenes are often reproduced, and kings, queens, and other rulers play prominent parts. There may be an arena for the slaughter of the innocent. The pop- ulists may rise against the government. Little or no comedy is introduced, and only an occasional laugh or smile is aroused. The presentation of 76 THE ART OF STORY WRITING these plajs usually requires a large number of su- pernumeraries, — soldiers, sailors, savages, war- riors, and the inevitable mob. Probably the great- est play ever written, other than those of Shakes- peare, and even rivaling Shakespeare, is of this class, and is very near to being historically cor- rect. The problem play is an important modern form of the drama. During the last few years there has been introduced upon the stage a class of plays, known as problem plays, which are supposed to be used by the author for the vivid solution of some psychological or other problem, usually one which is close to the public eye. Capital and labor are allowed to clash, and the divorce question is much in evidence. Unfortunately, some of the problem plays are essentially immoral or unmoral, and are given as an excuse for the presentation of uncontrolled pas- sion. They create the suspicion that the play- wright did not produce them for any motive ex- cept a financial one. It is a fact that the average father and mother will allow their children to view, from the auditorium, scenes which they would make PLAY WRITING 77 every effort to keep them from meeting with upon the street. I heartily welcome the portrayal of sin, and even of many things which Mrs. Grundy would call " improper," if there is a moral and uplifting ob- ject back of them. Nevertheless, in common with others who would uplift the stage and make it one of civilization's greatest educators, I am opposed to the presence of respectably dressed sin. Many other classes of plays depend upon their immoral coloring for success. But let me say here, and emphatically, that no play ever met with more than transient success, or added any real reputation to its writer, unless it was either pure in tone or pictured vice that it might the better pre- sent virtue. The would-be playwright, unless familiar with the stage, not^ only from the auditorium, but from behind the scenes, should not attempt to produce a play until he has become conversant with stage craft, and been in close contact with actors and actresses, that he may learn their ways, and what can and cannot be presented in play form. He 78 THE ART OF STORY WRITING should spend considerable time on the stage itself, although he need not take part in the play. He should be familiar with scenery, and with the handling of it. He should read most carefully printed plays, and, if possible, the manuscript of plays which are not published. He should prac- tice the writing of conversations and dialogues; and he must, by experience, learn how to make his dialogue largely self-explanatory, to handle his story by spoken word, not by written explanation. Most performances begin at eight o'clock and end at ten-thirty o'clock, and the action of the play, which is to occupy the entire evening, must contain sufficient dialogue to sustain it for about two and a half hours, deducting, of course, the be- tween-acts periods, which will consume from fif- teen to twenty minutes, if the play has as many as three acts. When a play is accepted, the theatrical man- ager sends for the playwright, or communicates with him by mail, and suggests additions, omis- sions, or changes. Comparatively few plays are presented as originally written. Even if the plaj PLAY WRITING 79 has decided merit, it may be too long or too short in parts, or it may need other revision. These changes are made by the writer of it, with the as- sistance of the theatrical manager or stage man- ager, or the leading actor or actress, who will ap- pear in it. It is then placed in rehearsal, and the playwright invited to be present. The rehearsal is held with a darkened auditorium, but upon a lighted stage, usually without scenery. The ac- tors and actresses are in street costume, and begin by merely repeating lines. Later, a full-dress re- hearsal is given, when the play is presented ex- actly as it will be before an audience. Most plays are first presented in some pro- vincial city or town, where they may be " tried upon the dog," if I may speak in theatrical vernacular. Several changes may be necessary after a dress rehearsal, and these revisions may continue for a week or more, or even after the play has been staged in the theater of a large city. The stage manager has the play typewritten into parts, one for each actor, but no one actor has the entire manuscript. 80 THE ART OF STORY WRITING Let us suppose that the actor bears the name of " Smith." The manuscript he receives reads something as follows: " Jones : ' Hark, I hear a gun.' " The forego- ing line is spoken by the one who precedes Smith. This is his cue, and he begins to speak his al- lotted lines as soon as Jones has said " gun." He then waits for another cue, and proceeds. He remains in his dressing-room, or what is known as the green room, which is located under or at the side of the stage, until a few minutes be- fore his entrance. The call-boy notifies him that it is about time for him to appear. He steps be- hind the scenes, and waits for his cue. No inexperienced playwright should present his play to the buyers of plays, until it has been read by one or more skillful dramatic editors or compe- tent actors. If they approve of it, he should then send it to a theatrical manager, or place it in the hands of some dramatic agency. I would advise him, however, to present his play direct to the dramatic manager before employing an agency, for the latter demands a percentage, which the playwright should avoid, if possible. PLAY WRITING 81 The chances are the play will be rejected sev- eral times before accepted, if it is accepted at all. The play is copyrighted, either by the manager, who handles it, or by the playwright himself, the copyright fee being only one dollar. Comparatively few successful plays remain in any one theater for more than a few months at a time. They go on the road, — eventually, any- way. The playwright receives his remuneration in one of the following ways : First, the theatrical man- ager buys it outright. Secondly, he gives the au- thor a sum agreed upon, with a small royalty. Thirdly, the playwright receives a royalty only; and these terms usually prevail. The royalty is usually based upon the gate receipts, from which the expense of production and the cost of running the play may or may not be deducted. The owner of the play frequently sells playing rights, or allows certain companies to present it throughout the country, in which case the author shares the income with him. As the price paid varies so much, I do not care to present defmite figures. The author may be 82 THE ART OF STORY WRITING paid a hundred dollars, or several thousand dol- lars, for the play outright, or he may receive a gate-receipt royalty. To sum up, let me say emphatically that play writing is not likely to be successful, unless the writer has a strong imagination, and is proficient in creating situations and climaxes. Further, he is not likely to succeed unless he has experienced stage craft. He must have sufficient literary ability properly to write out his dialogue or con- versation. He must understand men and things sufficiently well to present them upon the stage, vividly, realistically, or in caricature. Unless he proposes to devote his time to the writing of tragedies, dramas, or melodramas, he must have a keen sense of humor. Quite a number of successful plays have been taken from published works of fiction, or from his- torical novels, in which case the playwright adapts the work to stage purposes; but if he is not the author, he must obtain the author's consent, and share with him In the profit. The plot and characters in the book may be fol- lowed closely, or departures made from them. If PLAY WRITING 8S the book has been a great seller, the play is more likely to be successful than it would have been if it had not been published in book form. Comparatively little in the book can be repro- duced literally upon the stapje. The dialogues and conversations need to be altered and adapted to stage presentation. CHAPTER XII Motion-Picture Plays THE epidemic growth of the moving-picture play has opened a field for the cultivation of what may be considered a new department of lit- erature, or, rather, of what is in a way allied to it. It is said that a hundred million dollars are in- vested in the motion-picture business. There is hardly a town of any size, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, or from Winnipeg to the Gulf of Mexico, which does not support one or two moving-pic- ture houses. The admission is usually ten cents, occasionally as much as twenty cents being demanded at the door. The motion-picture play is produced by con- cerns of enormous capital, who send their agents or photographers all over the world, to the African jungle and to the frozen regions of the North. 84 MOTION-PICTURE PLAYS 85 Although the majority of scenes are produced in the picture-making theater, at times, however, the whole or a part of the action occurs out of doors. The camera can be stopped at any moment, and the action may be in a dozen places, if need be. The motion-picture play-maker employs a num- ber of competent actors, who comprise his stock company, and often engages those of international reputation. Several rehearsals are held, that the actors may become familiar with the play before it is finally photographed. As a rule, the actors speak their parts, that their work may be realistic. The playwright may or may not write in the dialogue, but it is better for him to do so; but he must present the plot and outlines of the situa- tions, and designate the characters and their cos- tumes. He is further required to indicate what they are to do and say, but he may not put the words to be spoken into their mouths. It is obvious that there must be rapid action, and that the play must be so constructed as to be self-explanatory by action, as there are no spoken words. It is probable, however, that a combina- tion of camera and talking-machine will soon be 86 THE ART OJ' STORY WRITING introduced, which will require as much attention to the dialogue as to the action of the play. The writers of moving-picture plays receive from twenty-five to a hundred dollars for a so- called plot. While an intimate knowledge of stage craft is unnecessary to the framing of a moving-picture play, the author will find that a familiarity with dramatic conditions will be of much benefit to him. CHAPTER Xni The Name of a Book or Stort ONE of America's most successful and exten- sive publishers, and a man who is familiar, from experience, with every department of book publishing, and especially expert in the handling and selling of books, recently told me that it was as difficult to get a good title for a book as it was to obtain a good manuscript of a book. Thousands of books owe a proportion of their success to their titles, and many a one has failed, or has met with an indifferent success, partly be- cause an inappropriate or unsuitable title was selected for it. The author, rather than the publisher, may as- sume the right to designate the title ; but he should not insist upon one, no matter how strongly it may appeal to him, if his publisher objects to it. He should counsel with his publisher* and in case 87 88 THE ART OF STORY WRITING of disagreement allow the publisher to select the title. The shorter the title, the better, provided it properly describes the book itself, A short title lends itself to the cover, and assists in making the appearance of the book more presentable. It is easier for the buyer to remember, and allows in- creased opportunity for effective advertising. A long title injures the appearance of the cover of a book. It is obvious that a short and appropriate title is far more difficult to obtain, than is one contain- ing several words, which is, in itself, a description of the book. Take the title of " The Pit," for example. A better name for the story could not have been pro- cured. Not only did it lend itself typographically to the cover, but it was descriptive, easy to re- member, easy to call for, and of striking appear- ance. Let us suppose that the author had chosen a title like, " The Success and Failures of John T. Smith, Broker." While this title would have been appropriate, it is altogether too long, would not THE NAME OF A BOOK OR STORY 89 have been remembered, and would have, undoubt- edly, handicapped the sale of the book. Many successful books have borne the names of their leading characters ; like " Jane Bancroft,'* " John Hubbard," " Jones of Boston," or " Smith of Middlesex " ; or short descriptive titles, like " A Country Minister," ** The Confession of a Banker," or " The Story of a Bachelor." There is no objection to beginning a title with some word like " How," if the book gives informa- tion ; as, " How to Eat," ** What to Eat," " How to Travel," '' How to Sell," «* How to Buy," or " How to Cook." Queer names, if hard to pronounce, should never be used. The buyer of a book should not be sub- jected to the annoyance of being unable properly to pronounce the title of the book he calls for. The best way to proceed is to give your manu- script a proper title, no matter how long or short it may be. Then, after consultation with your friends, write out a number of titles, good, bad, and indifferent, — the more, the better. Even an inappropriate or silly title may lead to an accept- able one. Work over them and study them. 90 THE ART OF STORY WRITING Place the best title, according to your judgment, on your manuscript, and enclose with your manu- script a slip upon which are written other titles. Do not fail to consult with your publisher. He is as much interested as you are in the success of the book. Do not be obstinate or arbitrary. The printed forms of some contracts contain this clause, " Or any other title which may be de- cided upon." You have plenty of time, because it is not necessary to decide definitely upon the title until you have received the galley proofs, but it must be chosen before the page proofs are made, as the title of the book is usually placed on every other page. CHAPTER XIV LiTEBABY Schools THERE have been established various schools, or institutions, which claim to be able to teach the art of literature. Some of these are con- ducted on the correspondence plan. I think that it is exceedingly doubtful if any one can obtain a working knowledge of the art from any school, and especially from a correspondence course. Contact with literary workers and with the pub- lic at large, and the reading of good books repre- senting successful literary styles, will do more, I believe, to aid the would-be litterateury than can any so-called institution, though alleged to be able to teach the art. I am afraid that some of these literary insti- tutions were established for revenue only, and are purely commercial enterprises. Their claims look well upon paper, but I think that few of them 91 92 THE ART OF STORY WRITING can be substantiated. I do not see how any one can learn to write, as he would learn book-keeping, or stenography, or arithmetic, or geography, oi' any other concrete art or science. So much depends upon contact with conditions and persons, and upon the special ability of the would-be writer, that it is extremely doubtful if the art of authorship can be imparted academically. Nor does it seem to me probable that much of any- thing worth while can be given by mail. The literary correspondence school, like other correspondence schools, depends for its profits upon a large number of pupils. It seems to me obvious that little personal attention can be given to any one member at the fee charged for enrollment. Therefore, I am constrained to believe that the service rendered by most correspondence schools is largely automatic, and that the pupil can obtain as much from a good book or books, and very much more by contact with those of the craft. Instead of connecting one's self with a school, I would advise the would-be writer to read everything written upon the subject, of course, taking into consideration that most books upon literature rep- LITERARY SCHOOLS 93 resent the personal opinions of their writers, which may be overdrawn and biased ; but from sev- eral books, if read intelligently and discriminately, the reader may obtain a general insight into lit- erary matters, and into the construction of litera- ture, which will be of benefit to him. I would advise him, however, to read these books, and all other books, with the cooperation or as- sistance of one or more men or women who have won literary reputations. By contact, both with books and with those who make books, he may, if he will, obtain a fair grasp upon the situation. Then, he must learn to write by writing; he must practice while he is studying. His first ef- forts may amount to little, but if each one shows some improvement over its predecessors, he may, in time, obtain result. Under no circumstances should he attempt to learn how to write as he would master the multiplication table or history. It is impossible to become an author by rule, or by following blindly any regulations which may be for- mulated by those who think they can teach the un- teachable. CHAPTER XV LiTERAKY Agencies or Bureaus IN many of the general magazines, and in some of the periodicals, appear advertisements of literary agencies or bureaus, which claim to be able to sell manuscripts to the author's advantage and to have special facilities for revision. Connected with these agencies are one or more literary men or women, usually with some reputation. I would advise the writer or owner of a manu- script to have absolutely nothing to do with any of these agencies or bureaus, unless they are rec- ommended to him by some reputable book pub- lisher or editor of high standing. If the advertisement of one of the agencies seems alluring, send it to some first-class book publisher or editor and ask him to advise you about it. If you are in doubt, consult the editor of a reputable newspaper, a literary man of standing, or an editor of one of the great magazines. These 94 LITERARY AGENCIES OR BUREAUS 96 parties would speak favorably only of agencies of the highest standing. Some of those literary agencies, I believe, are nothing more or less than traps, set to catch the author. Their announcements appear to be fair and honest, and they particularly request the au- thor to forward his manuscript. On receipt of it, it is quite likely that they will suggest that it be revised, or copied, which the agency will be pleased to do at a price named. If the manuscript has merit, the agency may place it with some pub- lisher, in which case the author has to give the agency a part of his receipts. I am of the opinion that the author will be as well, or better, off if he communicates direct with the publishers and not through an agency. True, the agency may be better informed of the require- ments of the book publishers, and it may know better than the author does just which publisher would be likely to take it. But if it succeeds, the author must pay handsomely for its trouble. If the author is unfamiliar with book publishers, and does not know their requirements,, and, there- fore, is not in a position to know to which pub- 96 THE ART OF STORY WRITING lisher he had better send his manuscript, I sug- gest that he consult with some literary man or editor of standing, who wiU probably be able to give him better advice than he will be likely to re- ceive from any literary bureau, and this advice he will obtain without expense. Or, let him write to a few book publishers, giving a synopsis of his manuscript, and ask each if that particular plot interests him. In this way it is probable that he will obtain the information he desires. Then, as to revision, I think he will obtain a better result, and at a lower price, if he employs some literary man in his town or city, or takes up the matter with some one at a distance. If he is in doubt, any editor can help him. Revision is not difficult to do. If the story is wholly unmarketable, no amount of revision wUl help it. If it is about right, revision may make it all right. But I think that any good literary man or woman is likely to give the author more efficient service than he would probably obtain from any agency or bureau. Many a school teacher has a good command of language, and can be of great assistance to the LITERARY AGENCIES OR BUREAUS 97 author. I would not, then, particularly recom- mend the literary bureau or agency, although some of them are furnishing good service. I think that the author can obtain all, or more than, they can give, by placing his manuscript in the hands of some well-educated man or woman for correc- tion and revision, and that any good book publisher or literary editor will determine the marketability of the manuscript as readily as can any literary bureau official. Unless the author is busy, he had better recopy his manuscript himself. If there is need for out- side help for copying, any competent typewritist will do the work for him at a fair price. CHAPTER XVI The Peeparation of a Manuscript UNDER another heading I have suggested the size and quality of the paper to be used. All manuscripts should be written on the type- writer, and ruled paper should not be used, un- less the manuscript is hand-written. Many book publishers will not consider a pen- written manuscript, and the majority of periodi- cals and newspapers, other than country news- papers, will refuse to read a manuscript which is not typewritten. If you do not own a typewriter and do not feel that you can afford to purchase one, you may rent a fairly good machine as low as five dollars for three months. The standard typewriters cost ap- proximately one hundred dollars, but there are sev- eral machines on the market which can be had for much less, and which answer the purpose. 9S PREPARATION OF A MANUSCRIPT 99 A typewriter with visible writing is to be pre- ferred to others. Use a black, or blue-black, or dark blue, or dark green ink, and under no circumstances a purple, a yellow, or any other color. Black, or blue-black, is preferable. There should be a margin of at least one inch at the top, bottom, and sides. Under no circumstances write on more than one side of the sheet. Single or narrow space between lines is an abomination. The lines of all manuscript should be double spaced. Unless your paragraphs are plainly indicated, precede them with a paragraph mark. Should you, however, desire to add paragraphs after the manuscript is written, there is no need of rewrit- ing; simply write in paragraph marks. Should a paragraph appear in a manuscript, which, after consideration, you desire to have set not as a para- graph, mark in front of it the word ** No," fol- lowed by the paragraph mark, or the words " Run in." Be very careful with your spelling, particularly 100 THE ART OF STORY WRITING of proper names and of technical terms, for the editor and publisher will hold you responsible for all spelling, except of common words, and he may demand that all words and terms be correctly spelled. Do not write more than one or two words at a time between the lines, and better avoid doing this altogether, as interlining confuses the reader and compositor. It is better to cross out wrong or misspelled words and write them on the same line, than it is to interline them. Avoid, as far as possible, writing in the mar- gins. If you make many changes on any page of your manuscript, better rewrite it, even if it does not make your page come out even, or carries the matter over to another page. While it is desirable to have about the same number of words upon each page, there is no need of rewriting the page or pages to produce this result, so long as your matter is not discon- nected. Every publisher of books, or of periodicals and newspapers, maintains a style of his own as regards paragraphing, spelling, and punctuation, and he PREPARATION OF A MANUSCRIPT 101 will set the manuscript according to his system, unless it be one of a technical character. Unless you know the style prevailing in the pub- lisher's office, or in the magazine or newspaper of- fice, paragraph, punctuate, and spell according to your system, if it is one of the standards, and be consistent. The editor will make changes, if he desires to do so; but you should not consider this an excuse for careless paragraphing, punctuation, or spelling. Write in your chapters and chapter headings, and if, for any reason, you desire to have any part of the book set in smaller type than that used for the body, indicate it by writing " Small type " at the side of the paragraph. Draw one line under all lines you desire to have set in italics, two lines under those to be set in small capitals, and three lines under those to be set in capitals. If your book contains dialogue, be very careful to use quotation marks, and to have a separate paragraph for what each person says, using more than one paragraph if the spoken words occupy over a dozen lines. lOa THE ART OF STORY WRITING Number each page with figures, — 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., — and write them in the upper right-hand corner. It is not necessary to repeat the chapter head- ings on the manuscript. If, after the manuscript is completed, you desire to insert one or more pages, write in the upper left-hand corner, " 46-B," " 46-C," etc., and then insert them in the proper place. For example: let us suppose that you desire to insert three pages between pages 46 and 47. It is not necessary for you to repage the entire manuscript ; simply write " A " after 46 on page 46, and then write " 46-B," " 46-C," and " 46-D," respectively on the inserted pages ; and on page " 46-D " write, " Next page 47." This will assure the editor and compositor that no page has been omitted. If you remove a page, say page 62, write in the upper left-hand comer of the page following the omitted page, " No page 62." Your manuscript numbers should run consecu- tively, and you should not write in the margin of any page, " Insert paragraph marked 1," or " Paragraph marked A." Have these insertions come in regular order, even if by so doing, some of PREPARATION OF A MANUSCRIPT 108 the pages will contain an uneven amount of n»t- ter. In another chapter I have told you Kow to esti- mate the number of words or length of a manu- script, and how to give this information to the editor or publisher. Begin every chapter on a new page. Underline all foreign words, like " prima facU" so they may be set in italics. A good way to prepare a manuscript, which, if you are a ready writer, will save you much time and trouble, and the expense of copying more than a part of it, is to write th^ matter on pai>er eight and a half by eleven inches, and then paste the written sheets upon papier about eleven inches from right to left and twelve and a half inches from top to bottom, these larger sheets to be paged. On these larger sheets allow a wider margin on the left than at the top, bottom, and right. By this method you can easily insert additions and revi- sions, and yet your manuscript will read smoothly. Let us suppose, for example, that after your manuscript is written, you wish to insert consider- able matter in certain places. You will then cut up 104 THE ART OF STORY WRITING the pages written upon, and paste the pages, or parts of them, where thej belong on the larger sheets. Practically all manuscripts are subjected to ad- ditions, omissions, and revision. By following this method, you will have to rewrite only that part of the matter which needs changes, and you can add or omit as you please. After pasting the manuscript pages upon the large sheets, press them out smoothly by placing large books upon them. While this method does not present as hand- some a manuscript, it is acceptable to every editor and publisher, for they care nothing about the appearance of the manuscript, if it is on paper of sufficient strength and suitable size, and reads smoothly, with no disconnections. If the margin is sufficiently wide at the left, you can, if you desire, fasten your manuscript together by punching holes in the left margin and insert- ing strings through the holes, but this is not neces- sary. A very acceptable and good form of manuscript is to bind it into portable covers, similar to those PREPARATION OF A MANUSCRIPT 105 used for loose-leaf ledgers. These covers, and the perforated pages to fit them, may be purchased at any large stationer, and they are not expensive. This method keeps the manuscript in good shape, and it is not likely to be mutilated or soiled by the editor or reader of it. Of course, it will be de- tached from the covers when given to the composi- tor. If you use this form, number your pages as you would in a loose manuscript. The author should accompany his manuscript with a title-page, and allow one page for the copy- right line. He should, as a rule, present his table of con- tents, and the index, if the book is to be indexed. He should not, however, write in the page numbers on either of the manuscript pages of the contents or index, because the correct numbers cannot be ascertained until the book is set and page proofs taken. Some years ago, publishers of high-class books made a requirement that every chapter should be- gin on a right-hand page, but this condition no longer prevails. However, the author cannot an- ticipate it, as he does not know, until he receives 106 THE ART OF STORY WRITING proofs, where the pages will begin, nor does he know whether or not the ending of any chapter will fill a page or occupy only a part of it. The last page of a chapter in a book, however, should not contain less than six type lines. If the manuscript, when paged-up, runs from one to five lines over full pages, the publisher usu- ally requests the author to add to the proof a sufficient number of words to make the last page of the chapter contain at least six lines ; or the author may omit a sufficient number of lines from the chapter itself, so that it will not run over into the following page. These omissions and additions are usually made after the page proofs are furnished, but if the author knows the number of lines to a page, he can anticipate them, and make them on the galley proofs. As this running over is not the fault of the author, it is not usually charged as author's corrections when it occurs. If you add pages, the number written on the last page will not represent the exact number of pages in the manuscript; then on the last page write something as foUows : " 360 pages," which PREPARATION OF A MANUSCRIPT 107 number must include the inserted pages. If you do not do this, and have inserted many pages, the manuscript would appear to contain less pages than it actually does. While the public or reader never sees a manu- script, the better the manuscript, all things being equal, the more likehood of its being accepted. CHAPTER XVn Manuscript Papee THE best paper for manuscripts, either for books or for magazines or newspaper articles, should be quite thin, but never as thin as tissue paper, and of the stock commercially known as bond, which is tough and strong, and does not easily tear in the typewriter or when handled. If thick paper is used, it will be difficult to make carbon copies, and they are likely to be indistinct. Manuscript paper should never be larger than eight and one-half inches from right to left, and eleven inches from top to bottom. This size is standard. It should not be smaller than six inches from right to left, or eight inches from top to bottom. White is acceptable, but some light tint, like light yellow, light gray, light buff, light orange, or light blue is preferable to white, because a tint or light color is easier on the eye. 108 MANUSCRIPT PAPER 109 Good bond paper can be obtained from seven to twelve cents per pound, and it should be of a thickness known in the trade as from sixteen to twenty pounds to the ream. The paper is made in sheets which may be cut up into four sheets eight and one-half by eleven inches without waste. A ream of this paper, — and a ream is usually ^\e hundred, instead of four hundred and eighty, sheets, — will cut up into two thousand sheets of standard size. The cost, then, of a thousand sheets of manuscript paper of standard size, and of the twenty-pound weight, at seven cents per pound, would be seventy cents. I have covered other details of manuscript paper in the chapter headed ** The Preparation of a Manuscript." Do not use a ruled paper, unless your manu- script is hand-written. Avoid a paper with a surface which will not permit the use of pen and ink, because the editor or reader may desire to make corrections upon the manuscript, and if the paper is soft and spongy tlie ink from the pen will blur upon it. CHAPTER XVIII Copying Manuscript ALL manuscripts, if of any importance, should be copied by the author, and the copies should be kept away from the original manuscript, so that there will be a copy remaining in case of the loss or destruction of the original manuscript or of the copy itself. It is not likely that both, if kept in separate places, will meet with loss or de- struction. Publishers do not hold themselves responsible for the loss of, or damage to, a manuscript, although they usually take good care of them. If a pub- lisher loses or damages a manuscript, the author has no redress. Copies of manuscripts may be made in the fol- lowing ways : First, when done on the tyepwriter, a carbon sheet is inserted between the regular manuscript, 110 COPYING MANUSCRIPT 111 paper and another sheet of the same kind of paper or of thinner stock. Care should be taken not to use worn carbon paper, as the copies should be nearly as distinct as the original, and sufficiently good to take the place of the original manuscript if it is lost. But in this case, I would advise a re- copying of the copy. If thin paper is used, two or three carbon copies may be made, but one is usually sufficient. A record, and not a copying ribbon, should be used on the typewriter. Secondly, copies of manuscripts, either type- written with a copying ribbon or written with a pen and copying ink, may be produced by the wet or damp process of copying; that is, by placing next to each page of the manuscript a sheet of tis- sue paper, on the top of which is a damp cloth, and pressing with a copying press, or with very heavy weights. The process, however, blurs both the manuscript and the copy of it. Thirdly, a pencil or indelible pencil may be used for the writing of the manuscript, and a sheet of carbon paper placed between it and another sheet, but the work of the pencil is to be discouraged, ex- cept for making drafts or outlines. US! THE ART Oi' STORY WRITING Changes made on the original manuscript should be duplicated upon the copy. To save time, it is suggested that the eraser be not used. Cross out misspelled words or other er- rors, by running x's or lines through them, and continuing as though the mistakes had not oc- curred. By doing this, alteration will not have to be made with pen or pencil upon the copies. The editor, reader, or compositor does not ob- ject to these obliterations, if there are not too many of them, and the manuscript reads smoothly. CHAPTER XIX The Number of Wobds in a Manuscript IT is advisable, and sometimes necessary, to in- dicate on the manuscript, preferably upon the first page of it, approximately the number of words it contains. Although the number of words to the page vary, it is easy to strike an average, which is not likely to be more than five per cent out of the way. The author should count the number of words appearing on at least a dozen pages, the pages not to be selected consecutively. Add these numbers together and divide by the number of pages counted, and multiply the result by the total num- ber of pages. A better way, and a more correct one, is to count the number of words contained in from fifty to a hundred lines; then add them together and divide them by the number of lines counted ; multi- ply this number by the number of lines in the 113 114 THE ART OF STORY WRITING manuscript. The result is likely to be more close to the correct number, unless the author has writ- ten with a pen several lines between the typewrit- ten sections, as it is obvious that pen-written lines are likely to contain less words than the typewrit- ten lines. After the number of words has been ascertained, write in the left-hand corner of the first page of the manuscript, the number of words which it con- tains. This should be done, not only with book manuscripts, but with those of short stories and articles. CHAPTER XX RjBYisiNO Manuscripts NO author or writer, however conversant with literature he maj be, or trained in manu- script reading or editing, even though he may be an expert in English composition, can read or re- vise his own manuscript, with the certainty of ob- taining a clean or perfect result. It has been said, and with some degree of truth, that the better the writer, the poorer he may be as a manuscript and proof-reader of his own work, because he is very likely to carry his written words in his mind as well as to have them upon paper; and he cannot, therefore, read his manuscript as intently, or as critically, as may one who has no interest in it. So far as I know, no manuscript of any length has ever been free from grammatical and other errors, and some of these mistakes will be carried 115 116 THE ART OF STORY WRITING to the printed page, even though the manuscript and proofs have passed through several hands. Complete accuracy is impossible, but fairly clean manuscripts may be had, if the writer employs the services of one competent to read them. In every city there are several professional man- uscript readers. If there are none nearby, the author should send his manuscript, by mail or ex- press, to some good manuscript reader, and the result will be practically the same as if he came in personal contact with him. Editors of newspapers, of other periodicals, and of publishing houses will gladly give you the name and address of several responsible readers, who will not overcharge for the work. The reader is warned against many of the adver- tised " readers " or " institutions," which claim to be able to revise manuscripts and to make them salable. ^I have spoken of these " readers " in a chapter entitled " Literary Bureaus." A good manuscript or proof-reader understands the English language and is expert at composi- REVISING MANUSCRIPTS 117 tion and punctuation, and at locating inconsisten- cies. Many of the best manuscript readers are not college graduates, but have served apprentice- ship in newspaper offices as proofreaders. Mere education itself does not make one proficient in this art, but no one can succeed in it without educa- tion. Manuscript reading may be divided into two classifications : First, correction, so far as punctuation, spell- ing, paragraphing, and grammar are concerned. Secondly, the marking or questioning of incon- sistencies, an analysis of plot and characters, and suggestions for improvement. The fees charged by good manuscript readers are not excessive. A fair market rate for this work is fifty cents for the first two or three thousand words, and from fifteen to twenty-five cents for each thousand words up to ten or twelve thousand ; and from a dollar and a half to two and a half dollars for each ten thousand words in excess of ten or twelve thousand. If the reader is called upon to locate inconsisten- 118 THE ART OF STORY WRITING cles, with or without correcting them, and to advise the author as to plot and characters, he may re- ceive double the rates quoted. The cost of typewriting a manuscript, — and all manuscripts should be corrected before the final copy is made, — is four or five cents per hundred words, with one or two cents per page additional if carbon copies are furnished. I would advise all authors to have carbon copies made of their manuscripts. Unless the author is well-to-do, I would suggest that he copy his own manuscript, purchasing or leasing a typewriter for the purpose. Standard typewriters sell from seventy-five to one hundred dollars, but there are a number of old makes of these standard machines which do good work, and which can be purchased as low as twenty-five dollars. Several typewriter companies will sell typewriters on installments, and they may be rented as low as five dollars for three months, although five dollars a month is the regu- lar price. Distance from a typewriter office presents no ob- stacle. They can be sent by express or freight. Every author, however, should have a typewriter REVISING MANUSCRIPTS 119 of his own. I would advise against the use of what is known as :6lite type, as the regular size known as Pica type is preferable. Never use more than one color of ink in a manu- script, as it may confuse the reader and composi- tor. I would advise every author to obtain the serv- ices of a good manuscript or proof-reader, other- wise his manuscript is liable to contain errors, and often inexcusable ones. He may transpose the characters and improperly locate the actions and situations. If one will study books and articles carefully, he will find that occasionally, because of the lack of proper reading and revising, the author has called some of his characters by several names, has mis- located the places, has repeated and contradicted himself. Only by revision, — and this to be done by an outsider, — can the author hope to produce a fairly correct manuscript. I have referred to these matters in other chap- ters. CHAPTER XXI How TO Send a Manuscript MANUSCRIPTS for short articles, and of only a few pages, may be folded twice and placed in envelopes. When they consist of more than a dozen pages, they should not be folded, but delivered flat. It is well to place a piece of heavy cardboard, of the size of the manuscript page, at the top and bottom of the manuscript. Another good way is to place the manuscript in a box, which may be a little larger in length, width, or depth. If too deep, place sheets of pasteboard on top of the manuscript to take up the surplus space. If the box is a little too long, or too wide, slips of pasteboard will fill up the space, or sheets of folded paper may be inserted. Place at least two wrappers on either the pack- age or the box. The outer wrapper should be of 120 HOW TO SEND A MANUSCRIPT 121 strong Manilla or brown paper. Then tie it se- curely with strong string. If you use ordinary twine, wind it around the package at least four times, and look out for " granny " knots. As letter postage must be paid on manuscripts, and the express companies make no extra charge for scaled matter, it would be well to seal the man- uscript securely, either with sealing wax or paper seals, or the wrapper may be pasted together. If sent by mail, it is well to emphasize the seal- ing, so that the post-office clerks will not consider it merchandise or printed matter. Write, or better, print, your name in the upper left-hand corner, preceded with the word " From." Write the address of the editor or pub- lisher in the lower right-hand comer space, and precede it with " To." Place the postage stamps in the upper right-hand corner. In the lower left- hand space, print very prominently, in large let- ters, either "Manuscript," or "First-class mat- ter." If you enclose a letter with the manuscript, be- low the words " Manuscript " or " First-class mat- ter " write or print " Letter enclosed." 122 THE ART OF STORY WRITING The foregoing is illustrated by the following diagram, the rules representing the string. From JOHN T. SMITH, 460 Main Street, Boston, Mass. Postage Stamps MANUSCRIPT To Editor The Evening Globe, New York City. If sent by express, prepay the express, and write or print " Express Prepaid," in lower left- hand comer. Manuscripts sent by express should be addressed in the same way. Manuscripts sent to a distance will go more cheaply by mail, if there are comparatively few pages. It will be well, however, for you to have your manuscript weighed, either at the post HOW TO SEND A MANUSCRIPT 123 office or on some store scales, unless you have scales of your own. The postage rate is two cents per ounce or fraction of an ounce. If it weighs a pound or more, the express is likely to be lower. If you send it by express, be sure to obtain a receipt. Express companies make an ad- ditional charge if the value exceeds forty-nine or fifty dollars. Therefore, if it would cost you as much as forty-nine or fifty dollars to copy the manuscript, have one of these figures written into the receipt. There is no additional express charge for value under forty-nine or fifty dollars. Manuscripts may be sent by registered mail at a cost of ten cents above regular postage. Always retain a copy of the manuscript if it is of much importance; for the editor or publisher does not guarantee manuscripts against loss. They are sent and held at the author's risk. While there is very little danger of a manuscript being lost, I would advise that a copy be made in every case, unless the manuscript is very short and of no particular value. Manuscripts sent to book publishers should be addressed as follows: 124 THE ART OF STORY WRITING To the Editorial Department, Sully and Kleinteich, 373 Fourth Avenue, New York City. If the manuscript is sent to the editor of a paper, magazine, or other periodical, address it either to the Editor, to the Editorial Department, or to some editor in particular, as the Literary Editor, or the Story Editor. Unless you know the full name of the editor, or the head of the editorial department, do not address the manuscript to an individual name, and it is generally advisable not to do so anyway. If you do, write on the pack- age a line somewhat as follows : " To be opened if Mr. John T. Smith is away." Manuscript should always be prepaid. It is ad- visable to enclose a letter with a manuscript, un- less there are but a few pages of it, directed to the Editor or to the Editorial Department, the letter to contain the salient points or facts. If it is a true story, drawn from life, with living char- acters, it is well to mention it in the letter; and HOW TO SEND A MANUSCRIPT 125 you might add a clause to the effect that, al- though all, or most, of the characters are living, their names and locations have been carefully dis- guised. It is well to give a short synopsis of a long story, outlining very briefly the plot or action. If the scene of the story is laid, say, in some western mining camp, or on the ocean, mention it in the letter. The first page of a manuscript should contain the title and the name and address of the writer, and, besides, a line reading somewhat as follows: " If unavailable, please return by express," or " Stamps enclosed for return." Write, in the upper left-hand comer, approximately the num- ber of words, as " About 60,000 words." When an unavailable manuscript is returned by) a publisher, run over it carefully, and remove any marks which the editor or reader may have made. It is possible that a printed slip of rejection came with it. Be sure to remove this slip before send- ing it to another publisher. CHAPTER XXII Rejected Manusckipts FOR the reasons which I have given in another chapter, it is obvious that a large proportion, of meritorious manuscripts will be rejected by one or several publishers. The author should send his manuscript to the publisher handling work of the class of his story. Many publishers are specialists, and publish but one class of matter. They will, therefore, reject a manuscript, no matter how meritorious, if it is out of their line. Before sending a manuscript to a publisher, ob- tain his list of works, and ascertain whether or not he is publishing matter similar to your manu- script. If he is, then send him your manuscript. If he is not, apply to another publisher. If the publisher returns the manuscript, do not consider that his refusal is prima facie evidence that it is not worthy of publication. Send it to 126 REJECTED MANUSCRIPTS 127 another publisher, and continue to do so, until sev- eral, or even a dozen, publishers have rejected it. If possible, ascertain from each publisher, who turns your manuscript down, his reasons for do- ing so. If more than one reputable publisher states that he has rejected it for the same or sim- ilar reasons, it will be well for you to consider re- writing or revising it. If more than a dozen first-class publishers con- sider your manuscript unavailable, you may then feel that you have produced a manuscript which either contains little quality, or else would be of little or no interest to the reading public. Per- haps rewriting may remedy the faults, or it may be well for you to discard it altogether and write another, or quite likely continued refusal may in- dicate that you have not sufficient ability or ex- perience to become an author. Do not become dis- couraged until several publishers have condemned your manuscript. What one editor considers worth while, another may reject. And many pub- lishers have refused to publish a manuscript which, eventually, after it had found a publisher, brought fame and fortune to its author. 128 THE ART OF STORY WRITING While rejection by even several publishers may not be considered sufficient evidence that the man- uscript is unworthy of publication, rejection must not be taken as complimentary. The more pub- lishers who reject your manuscript, the more like- lihood there is that you have not produced a work of quality, or a seller. Attempt to profit by each rejection. Rewrite and revise, if there is a consensus of opinion de- rogatory to your manuscript. Many successful authors will tell you that they were able readily to sell rejected manuscripts after they had obtained a reputation. While this is very soothing to the author of a rejected manu- script, it must not be taken as evidence that the rejected manuscripts of famous authors should not have been turned down. So long as bo9ks will continue to sell, not wholly by merit, but by the reputation of their authors, it is obvious that the publisher can profitably place upon the market a book by a popular author, which he would not publish if it were not for the author's reputation. CHAPTER XXin The Size op a Book FORMERLY the pages of all books conformed to certain sizes, which were considered stand- ard; but at the present time, although these standard sizes remain, page dimensions vary to suit conditions, and the old standard sizes are not altogether adhered to. The standard size of a book was based upon a sheet of paper twenty-five by thirty-eight inches, or rather upon half this size, or nineteen by twenty-five inches. When the paper or half-sheet is cut so as to make four leaves, the book is known as a quarto (4to) ; when cut into eight leaves, octavo (8vo) ; when cut into twelve leaves, duodecimo (12 mo) ; eighteen leaves being known as 18 mo. ; and twenty- four leaves being designated as 24 mo. The usual novels and books of fiction, includ- 129 130 THE ART OF STORY WRITING ing many text-books and other works, are duo- decimo or octavo. The thickness of a book is, of course, depend- ent upon its number of pages and the thickness of the paper used. Some publishers use a thin and yet opaque paper, while others prefer what is known as regular book paper, a stock with a soft surface. The size of type used further deter- mines the bulkiness of the book. Roman type is invariably used for the text of all books, except a few in which a fancy letter ap- pears ; but as Roman type is more familiar to the reader than is any other face, and is easier to read, Roman is given the preference, and com- paratively few books are set in other than this face. The type lines in most books are leaded; that is, the lines of type are not set close together, and there is a space between them. The follow- ing paragraphs present standard faces of type used in books: This paragraph is set in Twelve Point or Pica type, which is the largest size usually THE SIZE OF A BOOK 131 appearing in books, the majority of books being set in smaller type. This paragraph is set in Eleven Point or Small Pica, which is the usual size in novels and works of fiction, and for many textbooks. It is prob- ably the most readable size. This paragraph is set in Ten Point or Long Primer, a size which appears usually in paper-covered books, and not infrequently in those which are cloth-boimd. This paragraph is set hi Eight Point or Brevier. It Is not much used in cloth-bound books, but sometimes appears in textboolcs and in those which are paper-covered. It is qoito readabAe^ if leaded, or when the type width is shorter than that of the average book published. This paragraph la set in Six Point or Nonpareil. This slse is used for Indexes, and frequently In Bibles and encyclo- pedias. It Is not to be recommended, except when the type width does not exceed two and a half inches. Newspapers are set in this size. This pararraph is set In FWe-and-a-half Point or Airate, and Is used principally for Bibles and other closely printed books, wher« the column or i>aKe measure Is very narrow. Most of the " want " or classified advertisements appearing In the newspapers are set in this sise, and It Is a standard basis of advertising-space measure. Practically all publications, except the country week- Mes. sell their advertising space at so much per Agate line, single column measurement, Irrespective of the size of type used in the advertisement. Fourteen Agate lines make one inch of depth. 13a THE AUT OF STORY WRITING There are several faces of Roman, commercially known by arbitrary names, like Scotch Roman, Century, Clearface, etc. Most books are set in what are known as Mod- ern and Old Style Roman. The letters in the former are somewhat shaded, that is to say, the lines are not of the same width, while those in the latter are practically the same. Old Style Roman is used more than is Modern, but either is very readable. CHAPTER XXIV The Number of Words in a Book THERE 18 no standard rule controlling the number of words in a book, because books maj be of any size, and any size of type may be used, if it is not larger than what is known as Twelve Point, nor smaller than what is called Six Point. The average novel, or work of fiction, contains rather more than fifty thousand words, although some of them are of not exceeding forty thousand words, while others require as much as seventy- five thousand, or even more, words, for the proper working out of the plot. Comparatively few book publishers, how- ever, will publish a story or novel containing much less than fifty thousand words, because few novels are sold for less than a dollar, and most of them are priced at a dollar and twenty-five cents or a dollar and a half, and it is commercially 133 1S4 THE ART OI! STORY WRITING necessary to publish a book containing as many as three hundred pages, which would not be pos- sible with much less than fifty thousand words, unless unusually large type was used. The author should bear in mind that quantity as well as quality must be considered. The pub- lic demands both. It is sometimes difficult to sell a book, even though it be unusually meritorious, if it does not contain at least three hundred pages, unless it is to be retailed for less than one dollar. Intrinsic quality, while the first requisite, is not independent of the appearance of quantity. The whole world, including the reader, is con- ventional, and will not accept anything out of the ordinary unless it is extraordinary. If it pays a dollar for a book, it demands the appearance of a dollar's worth of paper and printed matter. Stories for children, however, are usually set in Twelve Point type, and sometimes in one or two sizes larger, and they may contain as few as ten or fifteen thousand words. Textbooks vary from forty to one hundred thousand words, exclusive of illustrations, charts, maps, or diagrams. NUMBER OF WORDS IN A BOOK 135 The paper-covered editions seldom contain less than fifty thousand words, and from that up to a hundred thousand. If the finished manuscript contains too few, or too many, words, the author had better bring it up or down to an acceptable size ; but he may, if he chooses, submit the manuscript to the publisher, accompanying it with a letter stating that he would be pleased to add to it, or to condense it, if the publisher desires. If all of the pages of a manuscript contain ap< proximately the same number of words, it is easy for the author to size up his work, so to speak, as he goes along. While the number of words per page will vary somewhat, the average page of manuscript will contain not less than two hundred nor more than three hundred words, if typewrit- ten. I have spoken of this in another chapter. CHAPTER XXV How A Manusceipt is Received and Handled By a Book Publisheb, THE book publisher maintains an editorial de- partment in charge of an editor-in-chief and his assistants, and with one or more literary ad- visers. Further, most book publishers employ what are known as " Readers," who receive a stated salary or fees. These readers are usually literary men or women, many of them being retired ministers, lawyers, or other professionals, and they read at their homes the manuscripts submitted to them. Unless the editor, or one of his assistants, by a casual glance at the manuscript, feels that it is not available, he sends it to one of his readers. The reader is supposed to read every word of the manuscript, and he may do so, unless a casual perusal of it shows that it is worthless or not available. 136 HANDLING A MANUSCRIPT 137 After reading, he returns the manuscript to the publisher, with his recommendations, and he prob- ably turns down, with short comment, nine out of every ten manuscripts he receives. The others he recommends the publication of, either positively or «tates that they are worthy of further considera- tion. Unless the author is well-known, the chances are that his manuscript would not get beyond the first reader, if this reader condemns it. If its publica- tion 18 recommended, or if the reader feels that it merits further consideration, it may be read by the editor-in-chief or by one of his assistants, or by the literary adviser; but the chances are it will be sent to another reader. If his report is favor- able, it will go to the editorial department for final decision. If one reader recommends it, and an- other condemns it, it will probably be sent to a third reader. It has been said, and with much truth, that it is well-nigh impossible to diagnose the real or sell- ing value of a manuscript with more than a mod- erate degree of accuracy. Thousands of manuscripts, which have been re- 138 THE ART OF STORY WRITING jected by both readers and editors, have become successful, other publishing houses considering" them favorably. Rejection by one publisher, or even by several, need not, therefore, be considered prima facie evidence that the manuscript is unwor- thy of publication. I recall one manuscript in particular, written by an author comparatively unknown, which was re- jected by more than a dozen publishers, and yet became an unqualified success, more than one hun- dred thousand copies being sold. It is obvious that individual judgment is often faulty, and that many a good thing is rejected. I would not, however, advise the author to submit his manuscript to more than a dozen publishers, without rewriting it; because I think it is fair to presume that if that number of reputable pub- lishers refuse it, the manuscript contains too many faults to be successfully put upon the market. Because human nature, and even expertness, cannot always be depended upon, rejection is the rule, not the exception. Comparatively few new writers succeed in plac- ing their manuscripts, even if they are meritorious. HANDLING A MANUSCRIPT 139 with the first two or three publishers to whom they are submitteA Many a reader will allow his in- digestion or personal feelings to warp his judg- ment. If he is suffering from a bilious attack, he may reject a manuscript which he would recom- mend if he were feeling well. All literary men, and particularly readers, are more or less biased, and allow their personal likes and dislikes to interfere with their judgment. This condition cannot be avoided, and the author must meet it. Then, even with the recommendation of one or more readers, the editor or publisher may refuse to accept the manuscript, either because his judg- ment does not coincide with that of the reader's or the literary adviser's, or because the plot or char- acter of the story is opposed to his jK)licy. For example, the first-class story of adventure may be rejected by some publishers, not because it is not well written and worthy of publication, but be- cause the publisher does not carry books of its class. Another publisher would gladly accept it. Then, most book publishers limit the number of books they will publish in a year. Their list may 140 THE ART OF STORY WRITING be fuU, and they will not consider the publication of any manuscript unless it is of unusual quality. But the manuscript, rejected by them, may be ac- ceptable to the one who is looking for a new manu- script. There may be other reasons for rejecting a man- uscript, irrespective of its literary quality. It is obvious that the book publisher is in business for profit, and that he will not publish a manuscript at his own expense, unless there appears to be good reason to believe that it is a money-maker. In another chapter, I have discussed the publication of book manuscripts at the expense of the author. While the final decision may be left to the editor- in-chief, many publishers have the final word, un- less the editor is a member of the firm. If the manuscript is accepted, the author is no- tified, and a contract is made with him. In an- other chapter I have spoken of contracts. The author may be requested to condense his manuscript, or to enlarge it, or to make changes mutually agreeable to both the publisher and him- self. Certain parts may have to be omitted, some chapters rewritten, and descriptions lengthened; HANDLING A MANUSCRIPT 141 but these conditions do not interfere materially with the acceptance of the manuscript. If the story, as a whole, pleases the publisher, and he be* lieves he can publish it to advantage, he will accept the manuscript, subject to changes which may be agreed upon. The author is notified, and if living nearby, he is invited to call. If not, negotiations are made by mail. He is given a written contract, in which terms are specified. The manuscript then goes to the manufactur- ing department, which, with or without consulting the author, will arrange for the typesetting, and specify the size of page, and the illustrations, if any. In another chapter, I have covered illustra- tions. In the course of time, galley proofs are sent the author. Galley proofs are proofs taken on long strips of paper, about two feet in length, and rep- resent the width, but not the length, of the page. These the author will read, correct, and return to the publisher. I have spoken of proofs in another chapter. After the proofs have been read and U2 THE ART OI' STORY WRITING corrected, the book is printed and bound, brass dies usually being made for the cover. The table of contents and index are set last. Usually the author includes in his manuscript a table of contents, and an index, if one is necessary. It is obvious, however, that the table of con- tents and index should not be set until the book is in type and paged, as the page numbers can- not be given until this is done. The book is then placed upon the market, usually^ with advertising. The publisher issues a special announcement of it, if it be a work of importance, and mention is made in his catalogue, or list of books. Copies are usually sent to literary papers, newspapers, and magazines, for review. An- nouncements are sent to the trade, or to book- stores, and the book is then fairly launched, to swim or to sink on the stormy sea of literature. CHAPTER XXVI Terms foe the Publication of Books THE business or contract relations between au- thors and reputable book publishers are sub- stantially as follows: First : The usual form of contract between the book publisher and the author requires the pub- lisher to bear the entire expense of putting the book upon the market, including the setting of the type, the making of the electrotype plates, the binding, the advertising, and the expense of sell- ing. The author contributes only his manuscript, and bears no part of the cost of publication. The majority of books are pi^lished under this agreement. The author receives what is known as a royalty, in nearly every case based upon the retail or list price of the book, irrespective of whafl the publisher may receive for it. For example : if the book is listed and sells at retail at, say, one dollar and a half net, or one dollar and a half 143 144? THE ART OF STORY WRITING gross, the author receives ten per cent, of a dollar and a half, or fifteen cents, for every copy sold. But no royalty or percentage is paid upon copies given away for advertising or selling purposes. The author receives ten or twelve copies free, and must pay the wholesale or trade price for addi- tional ones. Books listed, say, at one dollar net, are sold to other publishers and to booksellers at seventy-five cents, or twenty-five per cent, off the list price. If the book is listed, say, at one dollar, without the word " net " following the price, the price is considered gross, and the trade may purchase this book at thirty-three and a third per cent, off the list or retail price, sometimes at forty per cent, discount. But the author, in most cases, receives his full ten per cent, on the so-called list or retail price, whether it be net or gross. If the author is unknown, the publisher may not pay him any royalty until a thousand or more copies have been sold, which will be sufficient to cover the expense of publication. If the author has a reputation, he may make a contract with the publisher to receive ten per TERMS FOR THE PUBLICATION 145 cent, on all books sold, up to a specified number, say, from two to five thousand; and twelve and a half per cent, on all copies sold in excess of that number. A lower royalty is usually paid on copies sold out of the country. Occasionally the publisher will pay as high as fifteen per cent, royalty to a popular author after from ten to fifteen thousand copies have been sold. Secondly : If the character of the book is such that its sale would presumably be small, and prob- ably not sufficient to pay the cost of publication and a fair profit to the publisher, or if the sale is largely problematical, the reputable publisher may refuse to publish tlie book unless the whole or part of the expenses of publication are guaran- teed by the author. Thousands of manuscripts of intrinsic value and merit are presented to publishers, and yet the subject-matter may not be sufficiently popular for an extensive sale, or the book may be of a his- torical or scientific character, appealing to only a limited class of readers. The publisher, then, is justified in requiring a 146 THE ART OF STORY WRITING guarantee from the author, covering the whole or part of the expense of publication, the author agreeing to pay this sum before publication, or bind himself to purchase a specified number of books. In this case the publisher becomes vir- tually the agent of the author, and the publisher, in return, pays the author a royalty or percent- age on the retail price of the book considerably larger than is given in the first instance. The expense of publishing a book, including an- nouncements and advertising of it, runs from five hundred to several thousand dollars, but the aver- age story book or novel can be placed on the mar- ket for from seven hundred and fifty to a thou- sand dollars. If the publisher feels that the book is going to sell readily, he is not likely to make an arrange- ment with the author other than on a purely royalty basis, the publisher to pay aU of the ex- penses. A reputable publisher will not publish a book which does not contain merit, even at the author'^ expense. If it is a work of value, and yet would meet probably with a limited scale, he may be TERMS FOR THE PUBLICATION 147* willing to publish it, if the author pays the whole or part of the cost of publication. But the pub- lisher will be very frank with the author, and fully explain the situation to him. Practically all large sellers are published wholly at the expense of their publishers. In another chapter I have warned the author against publishing charlatans, who feed upon credulous authors, and who obtain their profit en- tirely out of what the author pays as a guaranty, the publisher making little or no effort to sell the books. Thirdly: Occasionally, but very infrequently, the publisher buys the manuscript outright, or pays the author a definite sum upon publication, with a small royalty. Authors of books which are reasonably sure to become large sellers may obtain what is known as advance royalty upon delivering the manu- script, or at the publication of the book, the sum advanced to be deducted from future royalties. If the right of translation is reserved, the au- thor shares in the profits to the extent agreed upon. He also participates in the profits if the 148 THE ART OF STORY WRITING book is dramatized, unless an agreement is made to the contrary. If the book appears after pubhcation as syn- dicate matter in the newspapers, the author re- ceives, as an extra remuneration, the amount agreed upon or to be agreed upon. He may, if agreeable to the publisher, retain the syndicate or dramatic rights. CHAPTER XXVII Contracts with Book Publishers THE book publisher has a printed contract, containing blanks to be filled out, which he executes in duplicate, he and the author signing both copies. These contracts are very much alike in substance. The publisher agrees to publish the book under the conditions specified, either at his own expense or wholly or partially at the expense of the au- thor. According to the contract, the publisher is to furnish the author, without charge, ten or twelve complete copies of the book, the author be- ing permitted to purchase additional copies at the trade or wholesale price. The name of the book is specified in the con- tract, but is usually followed by a clause reading somewhat as follows : *' Or other title which may be mutually agreed upon." Many books are pub- lished under a title which does not appear in the 149 150 THE ART OF STORY WRITING contract, a better one being chosen after the con- tract is made. The publisher usually agrees, in the contract, to stand the cost of author's corrections up to a specified amount, usually twenty-five dollars, or ten per cent, of the original cost of composition. For example: Let us suppose that in setting the book the publisher incurs an expense of five hun- dred dollars. The author is, then, permitted to make corrections and alterations upon the proofs up to ten per cent, of five hundred dollars, or fifty dollars. All corrections made by the author, after the book is set, in excess of the amount al- lowed, must be paid by the author. I have spoken of author's corrections in another chap- ter. The majority of contracts remunerate the au- thor by paying him a royalty either on the retail or list price of the book, or on the wholesale price, usually the former. This percentage is about six per cent, on text-books, or schoolbooks, and about ten per cent, on other works. (See the chapter, " Terms for the Publication of Books.") The usual contract has in it a clause to the CONTRACTS WITH PUBLISHERS 151 effect that if the publisher fails to keep the book upon the market, the copyright ownership is, by this failure alone, transferred to the author. The author, then, may, if he will, arrange with another publisher for the republication of the book, or put it to any other use, for by default on the part of the publisher it becomes his prop- erty. The publisher, however, retains the electro- type plates, the cover dies, and the illustrations. The author has no right to them, unless he pur- chases them of the publisher. The following forms of contracts are presented as representative of those used by the better class of book publishers. The words printed in Italics represent the portions to be filled in specifically in each case: MEMORANDUM OF AGREEMENT made this first day of January, A. D. 1913, by and be- tween George T. Smithy party of the first part, and The Massachusetts Publishing Company, of Boston, Massachusetts, Booksellers and Publish- ers, party of the second part. 152 THE ART OF STORY WRITING The said George T, Smith in consideration of the agreements of the said The Massachusetts Publishing Company, hereinafter contained, hereby agree with them, and their representatives and assigns, that he will properly prepare for the press a work to be entitled The Ups and Downs of Life (title subject to change by mutual agreement). That the said The Massachusetts Publishing Company are au- thorized to copyright said work in their own name or in the name of said Smith, and to procure any renewal of same for the said Smith or his heirs; that the expense of procuring copyright is to be borne by the said Smith; that the said book shall not violate or infringe any copyright of others, and that he will, at his own expense, pro- tect and defend said book from any adverse claims that said book infringes any copyright, and he will indemnify and save harmless said The Massa- chusetts Publishing Company from all damage, costs, and expenses arising to them by reason of any such infringement or claims that the said book infringes any copyright; that he will license and allow the said The Massachusetts Publishing CONTRACTS WITH PUBLISHERS 153 Company and their representatives and assigns, but no other party or parties, to print, publish, and sell the aforesaid book, and any revisions of the same, in such editions as the demand may re- quire, during the continuance of any copyrights or renewals thereof which may be obtained there- for, — provided, however, that the said The Mas- sachusetts Publishing Company, and their rep- resentatives and assigns, shall in substantial good faith keep and perform their agreements herein- after contained ; — and that during the continu- ance of the exclusive rights hereby granted, he will with all reasonable diligence superintend, in the usual manner of authors, the preparation for the press of any new edition thereof ; and will not prepare, edit, or cause to be published in his name or otherwise, anything which may injure or inter- fere with the sale of the aforesaid book. The said The Massachusetts Publishing Com- pany, in consideration of the foregoing agree- ments of the said George T. Smith, hereby agree on their part that they will, after the delivery to them of the manuscript thereof as aforesaid, secure a good and valid copyright thereof, and 154 THE ART OF STORY WRITING print and publish an edition of said book, ten copies of which they will deliver to the said Smith for his own use without charge; that they will en- deavor to secure the sale of all editions published by them; that they will pay unto the said Smith or his representatives or assigns, a royalty of ten per cent, of the published price of said book, in the usual cloth and paper covers respectively. An account of copies sold up to the first day of Jan- uary and to the first day of July of each year shall be made up semi-annually and royalties therefor paid to the said Smith within thirty days from the first day of February and of Au- gust of each year. {Other conditions appear here,) It is further agreed that from any sum to be paid to the said Smith shall first be deducted the cost of any alterations or corrections exceeding * ten per cent, of the cost of first setting up the type made by the said Smith in said book, after the portion altered or corrected is in type. It is understood and agreed that such copies as may be given to the said Smith and such other copies as CONTRACTS WITH PUBLISHERS 155 may be used for presentation to editors and others for the purpose of obtaining reviews and notices, or otherwise to promote the sale of the book, shall be free from royalty. The publishers shall sell to the author any copies of said book which he may wish for his own purposes, at as low a rate as they sell similar quantities to the general trade. It is further agreed by and between the parties hereto, that if at the expiration of three years from the date of publication, or later, the publishers shall determine that there is not suf- ficient sale for the work to enable them to profit- ably continue its publication and sale, then they shall be privileged to dispose of the copies remain- ing on hand, as they deem best, free of copyright (it being understood that the party of the first part shall have the option of taking said copies at cost of manufacture). It is further under- stood and agreed that upon all copies of said book sold outside of the United States the royalty shall be five per cent, of the published price, and it is also agreed that upon any edition published for schools and supplementary reading the royalty 156 THE ART OF STORY WRITING shall be six per cent, of the published price. It is further agreed that the said The Massachu- setts Publishing Company shall have the sole right to give permission to print or publish extracts from the said work, and to arrange for its serial publication in newspapers or other periodical pub- lications, but that any sums derived from the same shall be equally divided between the parties of the first and second part, also that no dramatization of the said work shall be made unless the parties of the first and second part shall jointly con- sent thereto, and that in the event of such dramatization being produced all sums received therefor shall be paid to the said The Massachu- setts Publishing Company and shared equally with the party of the first part, payments to be made semi-annually by the said The Massachu- setts Publishing Company within thirty days from the first day of February and of August of each year. {Further conditions may he written here,) IN WITNESS WHEREOF the said parties have hereto, and to another instrument of like CONTRACTS WITH PUBLISHERS 151 tenor, set their hands the day and year first written. The Massachusetts Publishing Co., By William R. Black, President, George T. Smith. THIS AGREEMENT made this first day of January, 1913, by and between George T, Smith of Boston, Mass,, party of the first part, herein- after called the author, and The New York Pub- lishing Company, a corporation organized and do- ing business under and by virtue of the laws of the State of New York, party of the second part, hereinafter called the fubusheb, witnesseth: WHEREAS, the said party of the first part is the author and owner of a manuscript entitled The Career of a Lawyer, or any other title which may be mutually agreed upon, and desires to pub- lish the same upon the terms and under the con- ditions hereinafter set forth, and the party of the second part desires upon the said terms and conditions to publish said work. Now, therefore, it is mutually agreed, as follows: Said AUTHOR hereby gives and grants unto 158 THE ART OF STORY WRITING the said pubusher, its successors and assigns, the exclusive right and license to publish, print, and sell the aforesaid work, and any revision thereof, in all book forms during the term of copyright and renewals thereof. Said AUTHOR hereby covenants with the said PUBLISHER that he is the sole author and proprie- tor of the said work, and hereby authorizes said PUBLISHER to take out in its own name the copy- right on said work in the United States and Great Britain, but it is understood and expressly agreed that the ownership of said copyright, subject to the license hereby granted, shall belong to the said AUTHOR. The said publisher agrees upon its part to print and publish said manuscript in book form, at its own expense, in such style and manner, and in such quantity, as it deems most expedient, and to sell the same at a retail or catalogue price of 071^ dollar, and agrees to manage the sale and dis- tribution of said book, and the advertising and general publicity of the same, and to care for the distribution of the editorial copies thereof, and agrees to pay to said author a royalty of ten CONTRACTS WITH PUBLISHERS 159 per cent, upon the retail or catalogue price of all copies of said book sold in the United States, and it is expressly agreed that no royalty or percent- age whatever shall be paid upon any copies de- stroyed by fire or water, or otherwise, or sold at or below cost, or given away for the purpose of aiding in the sale of said work, and provided, further, that if conditions shall arise whereby it becomes necessary to reduce an overstock of said books or to close out an unsalable remainder of sheets or bound books, the said pubusher shall have the right to dispose of such stock at such price as it deems desirable, and no royalty shall be paid upon such sales. If, however, a regular catalogue reduction in the price of said book shall be made, the author's royalty is to continue and apply upon the above percentage basis on such reduced price. It is understood and agreed that said pub- lisher shall be allowed a reasonable latitude in making alterations in proof of said book, which are changes from the manuscript. The said PUBUSHER shall bear the first Twenty-five Dollars of the expenses of the printer's charges and other 160 THE ART OF STORY WRITING costs of such alterations, and the author shall bear all such expenses in excess of Twenty-five Dollars. It is understood and agreed that if during the period covered by this agreement, said work shall be published in other than cloth book form, the terms of such publication shall be subject to a further mutual arrangement between the said PUBLISHER and said author, and shall not be deemed to be covered by this agreement. Said publisher agrees to make and furnish to said author written statements of sales of said book, and to pay royalties based thereon, twice a year, namely, in February and August of each year. Said PUBLISHER will present to said author, free of charge, twelve copies of said book im- mediately upon publication, and sell to him any additional copies desired for his personal use at a discount of twenty-foe per cent, from the retail price of said book, and upon said additional copies so purchased by said author, he shall be entitled to royalties. The said publisher hereby agrees to transfer CONTRACTS WITH PUBLISHERS 161 to the said author all rights and privileges which are contained in this Agreement, provided that he, the said publisher, fails to be able to supply the market with the said book for any period ex- ceeding ninety days. It is expressly understood and agreed that if the publication of said work in the manner and style agreed upon by the parties hereto shall oc- casion or directly or indirectly result in any suit at law or in equity, to which the said pubushee thai! be made a party by reason of any real or claimed libel, infringement of copyright, or un- fair competition, then the said author will in- demnify and save harmless the said pubushsr from and against all costs, damages, counsel fees, and any expenses whatsoever which the pub- lisher shall or may sustain or incur in and about the said action or suit. (Other conditions may appear here.) IN WITNESS WHEREOF the parties here- unto have set their hands and seals, the day and year first above written. George T. Smith, [Seal.] 162 THE 7\RT OF STORY WRITING Witness to signature of authok: Walter W, Warren, The New York Pubushing Company, [Seai..] By John M. White, President, Witness to signature of pubmshers: Mary W, Green. CHAPTER XXVin DlSBEPUTABLB PuBLlSHEES SCATTERED throughout the country are a number of publishing houses, or rather con- cerns which pretend to act as publishers, whose business is disreputable. They own extensive printing establishments, or arc connected with them. As a matter of fact, they do not really publish a book, except when they, by accident, get hold of one which will sell without pressure. They are plain and simple swindlers, who prey upon the innocent, proud, and conceited writers who cannot possibly produce a readable book. They usually maintain handsomely appointed of- fices, and those in charge of them are excessively suave and polite. They never turn down a man- uscript which is respectable and is not libelous. They will publish practically everything and any- 163 164. THE ART OF STORY WRITING thing, if the author is able to put up a guaranty- fund. They require an advance payment far in ex- cess of the cost of printing and binding. In other words, they are printers only, and not pub- lishers; and they make their money as printers, except that they overcharge for the work they do. Not only do they make a profit out of the printing and alleged publishing, but they will suggest revision and editing at the author's ex- pense. I think that most of them realize a profit of not less than a hundred per cent, on every book they pretend to publish. They keep within the law, because they legally publish the book. They an- nounce it, and claim to make effort to sell it. It is very hard to reach these scoundrels by process of law, because they usually keep within legal requirements. Their procedure is somewhat as follows: They keep in close touch with the so-called readers of reputable publishers. These readers come in con- tact with a large number of unavailable manu- DISREPUTABLE PUBLISHERS 165 scripts, either of little or no value, or unsalable. Most of these readers are conscientious and hon- est, but as they are necessarily literary and professional men or women, few of them are famil- iar with the wiles of these false publishers. In- nocently they will agree to furnish the names and addresses of the authors whose manuscripts they have rejected. The disreputable publisher writes an enthu- siastic letter to the author, telling him that he understands that he has written a book of unusual merit. He will ask the author, as a favor, to send him the manuscript. He will give it a super- ficial reading, or may not read it at all. He will then write a letter to the author, filled with the most complimentary expressions, suggesting that he call upon him or correspond with him. He will assure him that his manuscript possesses great merit, and is what the world needs. He will tell him that he is in a position to make the author's reputation, to force his name to become a house- hold word all over the reading world. As the majority of authors, and especially those who cannot possibly produce acceptable manu- 166 THE ART OF STORY WRITING scripts, are proud of their work, and possess a self-respect heavily adulterated with self-conceit, it is obvious that exaggerated and extreme flat- tery will not fall upon unfertile ground, but will take root even deep enough to reach the pocket- book of the author. The author has probably read his manuscript to friends, who are incompetent to weigh literary values, or who would flatter him anyway. The fact that he has written something is an indication that he thinks he has done meritorious work. He is hungry for praise, and will accept it indiscriminately. He calls upon the publisher, and is received royally. He is taken to lunch, and the conversation is confined to his wondrous manuscript. After the author has been placed in a responsive mood, the publisher informs him that he would gladly publish the book on the usual royalty basis, and without expense to the author, but unfor- tunately his list for the season is full. Conse- quently he cannot consistently take on any new books for a year or more. With a smile which would sell sawdust as a DISREPUTABLE PUBLISHERS 167 breakfast food, the publisher expresses his ahnost tearful regrets at the inevitable conditions, and intimates that if the author will allow him (the publisher) to act as his agent, he will give the book his personal attention, and so handle it that it will have exceptional opportunity to burn holes in the mental pockets of the expectant world. He cannot bear to allow so good a work to remain in a manuscript. It will make a hit, — a tremen- dous hit. Its publication will give the author a reputation as wide and as broad as the great, big world of readers. Fame is knocking at the author's door. Will the author welcome it, or will he allow opportunity (spelled with a capital O) to pass beyond his reach? Quietly the pub- lisher informs the author that the expense of pub- lication will be very slight, not exceeding, say, a thousand dollars. If the author has the money, the publisher is likely to get it. If he has not, the publisher will suggest that the author borrow it, because it will be so easy to return it from the enormous income of the book. The poor deluded author, proud of what he has written, filled with the conceit of literature, falls an easy victim. 168 THE ART OF STORY WRITING The publisher is not, however, through with him. There are other avenues of profit, and he leads the author gentlj to them and through them. With a smile which was practiced before his mir- ror, and in the atmosphere of a potted-plant of- fice, he assures the author that the sale of the book will be materially increased by the addition of illustrations. He would like to send the manu- script to one of his artists, who would read it and suggest pictures, always, of course, with the as- sistance of the author. This is the climax of fi- nancial flattery. The author loses his head, and more of his money. The illustrations are made at a cost two or three times greater than the expense of producing the pictures and plates. The publisher may send copies for review to a list of newspapers with which he has an arrange- ment. The editors of these journals will, un- doubtedly, review the work in extravagant terms, and the publisher will hand these reviews with much satisfaction to the smiling and much deceived author. If the guaranty fund paid by the author is suf- ficient, the publisher may advertise the book in a DISREPUTABLE PUBLISHERS 169 few newspapers or magazines; but if he does so, he is likely to require an additional payment from the author. Here, again, he has an opportunity to make an additional pro6t at the author's ex- pense. The book is published, a few copies of the an- nouncement, filled with superlative adjectives, are printed, and the circulation of them is pretty closely limited to what the author receives. If the author has money, or can get it, the pub- lisher suggests that the author purchase a num- ber of the books and send autograph copies, not only to his friends, but to leading literary writers and to other prominent persons. This will ad- vertise the book, says the publisher, and be of mutual benefit, especially to the author. It will add many cubits to the rapidly growing stature of his fame. The publisher offers to bear a part of the ex- pense, and to sell the books at an extremely low price; but this price, although it looks low on the face of it, pays the publisher a hundred per cent, net profit. Possibly a dozen copies are actually sold. 170 THE ART OF STORY WRITING The publisher has the author's money, the au- thor has the distinction of making a fool of him- self, of putting on the market, at his own ex- pense, a book which nobody will read or want to read, — and the bottom of his fame falls out for- ever. The author, in dismay, calls upon the publisher aud weeps tears of disappointment. The pub- lisher, without one whit less of a smile, expresses unbounded surprise and unlimited regret. He docs not understand why so good a book has not been received with cheers of approbation. He as- sures the author, — if the author has any more money at his disposal, — that the reason cannot be located. The trouble was caused by one of those inexplicable situations, which occasionally occur. He advises the author to try again; and, if the author has any money, the chances are that he will do so. Once a fool, always a fool, until either money or folly gives out. I do not feel called upon to give the reader the names of these disreputable publishers, because, while they are known to be charlatans, it would be very difficult to furnish proof which will stand DISREPUTABLE PUBLISHERS 171 in law. The author can avoid them by keeping away from any book publishers who do not have an established reputation. It may not be easy, however, for him to discover just what an estab- lished reputation is. Unless he is acquainted with the character of publishers, he should ask the advice of the literary editor of a great publication, who makes a spe- cialty of reviewing books. A letter addressed to the editor of any of the leading magazines will bring a courteous and satisfactory reply. I would suggest that he write to several magazine editors, and refuse to have anything to do with any publisher unless three reputable magazine editors recommend him. CHAPTER XXIX COPYKIGHTING COPYHIGHTS may be secured by making an application in writing to the Copyright ©epartment, Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. Copyrights may be secured for practically every kind of book, including composite books, en- cyclopedias, directories, and gazetteers. Period- icals, including newspapers, dramatical and musi- cal compositions, works of art, including models or designs for works of art, reproductions of works of art, drawings or plastic works of a scien- tific character, figures, prints, pictorial illustra- tions, and motion-picture photo-plays, and motion pictures without photo-plays, may be copyrighted. A copyright may also be issued for lectures, sermons, and addresses, which are delivered and not printed or published. The copyright gives to the author, or artist, 172 COPYRIGHTING 173 or modeler, or to the publisher, or owner of the work, exclusive rights to make, use, print, publish, or sell the work in question for a term of twenty- eight years from date of publication or issue, or from the date of copyright entry if the work is not published. At the expiration of the terra provided for, the copyright may be renewed or extended by the au- thor, if living, or by the widow, or widower, or children of the author, if the author is not living, or by the author's executors, or by his next of kin, for an additional twenty-eight years, or for fifty-six years in all. The process of securing a copyright is very simple. The would-be copyrighter should write to the Copyright Department, Librarian of Con- gress, Washington, D. C, specifying the class of the article which he desires to copyright, and re- questing the department to send him rules and regulations and application blanks. Postage stamps need not be enclosed for reply. He will then fill out the blanks according to in- structions, and forward them to the Copyright Office, enclosing a money order for one dollar. 174. THE ART OF STORY WRITING There are no other fees. If a dollar bill is sent, the letter should be registered. Personal checks will not be accepted. Within a few days, he will receive a certificate of copyright. The services of a lawyer are not needed, as any one of ordinary intelligence can obtain a copy- right. Should his application be faulty, the Copyright Office will return it with further in- structions. The majority of books are copyrighted by the publisher. The line "Copyright, 1913, by John T. Smith " must appear on the title-page, or upon the page following the title-page, of the book, and must be written or printed on every copy of everything copyrighted. Articles or stories, either for syndicates or for exclusive publication, may be copyrighted, either by the author or publisher; but if published in a copyrighted magazine or paper, the general copy- right will cover them. If the author or syndicate does its own copy- righting, the line " Copyright, 1913, by John T. COPYRIGHTING 175 Smith " must appear either at the beginning or at the close of the article or story. Foreign copyrights may be secured, but as the process is somewhat complicated, I would refer the reader to any good publisher. A copyrighted book or story cannot be drama- tized without the consent of the owner of the copy- right. The copyright covers the book, or story, or article in its entirety, but does not protect the title of it. For example, let us suppose that you have written a book entitled, " The Career of John Smith." The copyright will prevent any one else from publishing a book, in whole or in part, similar to yours, but the owner of the copy- right cannot legally stop the use of the same title for any work which is not a copy of his. Reputable publishers, however, will not dupli- cate the title of a book. This, however, is oc- casionally done by accident. In several magazines and newspapers, there are appearing advertisements of so-called literary as- sociations, which, by indirection, circulate the impression that they have special facilities for copyrighting, and some of them state that Wash- 176 THE ART OF STORY WRITING ington is the only place where copyrights can be secured. The latter statement is correct, but ap- plication for copyright can be made by mail, and has to be made in writing anyway. There is ab- solutely no need of applying for it in person at the Copyright Office in Washington, by the au- thor or by his agent. There is no reason why the author should pay a fee beyond the dollar re- quired by the Government for the securing of a copyright. A copyright may be transferred by its owner, within the life of the copyright, by any instrument of writing. It is simply a bill-of-sale or convey- ance. This transfer should be registered in the Copyright OflSce. The party to whom a copy- right is transferred should send the original bill- of-sale or conveyance to the Copyright Office within three months of its execution. Copyrights may be bequeathed by will. CHAPTER XXX QUOTINO FROM COPYRIGHTED MaTTER AUTHORS are cautioned against quoting from copyrighted matter to an extent exceed- ing a few words, without the consent of the owner of the copyright. While there is no established rule as to just how much one can use with impunity, the author is advised to obtain consent for the reproduction of copyrighted matter, if he quotes it to an extent of more than a short quotation. The author cannot, legally, take matter from one book or article of his own, unless he retains the copyright, and place it in another book or article, which is to be printed or published by other than the one owning the copyright. The manuscript of a book, if the copyright is held by its publisher, belongs to the publisher, and not to the author. He has no more rights to it than he would have if he were an outsider. 177 178 THE ART OF STORY WRITING Copyrighted matter is, technically speaking, merchandise; and the ownership of it is vested in the holder of the copyright, as much so as would be the proprietorship of a barrel of flour pur- chased by a customer. All rights to a manuscript, the copyright of which is owned by its publisher, are the publish- er's, subject only to the conditions of the con- tract between the publisher and the author. CHAPTER XXXI The Danger op Libel THE author of any book, story, or article is jointly liable with the publisher of it, for any- thing which may be legally construed to be in- jurious or damaging to the party written about; and he or the publisher, or both of them, may be subjected to suit at law, resulting in fines or even imprisonment. Libel may exist even though the true names of the parties written about are not mentioned, if the inference is sufficient to locate them. Practically every contract made with book pub- lishers contains a clause which holds the author responsible for any damage which may result from the publication of his manuscript. This does not exempt the publisher from liability, but it holds the author co-responsible with him. Writers should use great care to avoid any complications. If their characters are drawn 179 180 THE ART OF STORY WRITING from life, they should carefully disguise them, or else obtain their permission, particularly if what they say about them can be construed as injurious to their reputations or business. Not only is it well to use fictitious names, but the names of lo- calities should be changed if there appears to be opportunity for libel. Wlicn in doubt, authors should carefully avoid using verbatim any expres- sion which his characters have made in real life, or which would be sufficient to establish connection between them and what is said about them. If he allows his characters to do and say what is highly to their credit, he may not be in much danger; but even then, he should use due care. If it is necessary for him to print their real names, or to make them do or say what they have said and done, then he should be absolutely sure of his facts and be prepared to prove his state- ments in a court of law. While libel suits are an exception rather than the rule, and while comparatively few people care to subject themselves to the annoyance of a law- suit unless the statements made are directly li- belous, the author should be on his guard, and THE DANGER OF LIBEL 181 should not place in his book anything which will injure the reputation of any honest person or persons. By judicious changing of names and of locali- ties, one may be permitted to say almost any- thing, and the yalue of the book or article is not lessened. CHAPTER XXXII The Price of a Book COMPARATIVELY few cloth-covered books retail for less than a dollar, the usual price for a novel, or work of fiction, being either a dol- lar, or a dollar and a quarter, or a dollar and a half, although a few books are listed at two dol- lars or even at three dollars. The publisher, not the author, determines the price, and it may have much to do with the sale of the book. It is obvious that, in most cases, more books will be sold at a dollar than at a higher price; therefore, ten per cent, of one dollar may bring more to the author than he would receive if the book was priced at a dollar and a quarter or higher. Circumstances govern the price. Some books wiU sell as well at a dollar and a half as they would if listed at a dollar. Children's stories are retailed at from twenty- 182 THE PRICE OF A BOOK 183 &ve cents to a dollar, although a few of them are priced as high as a dollar and a half or two dol- lars, the latter figures applying only to books which are handsomely illustrated. Art works and De liLxe editions may be mar- keted at any price, even as high as ten dollars for a single volume. Text-books retail from seventy-five cents to two dollars, but the average price is about a dollar. Paper-covered books are sold at fifteen, twenty- five, or fifty cents. I do not recall any retail- ing for more than half a dollar. The book publisher seldom receives the retail or list price of his product, as most of the books he publishes are sold to the bookstores, or to other publishers, at a trade discount of from twenty- five to forty per cent. The usual discount on a net book is twenty-five per cent., other books be- ing subject to thirty-three and one-third per cent, discount, and sometimes to forty per cent. This discount may not affect the author, who usually receives a royalty based upon the list or retail price. The reputable publisher does not sell any book 184 THE ART OF STORY WRITING at retail for less than the list price, but often the same book can be obtained at a department store at a discount of from ten to even fifty per cent. The flush sale of the average novel is limited to a year or two from date of publication. The publisher, then, legitimately cuts the price to those who buy a large number of copies. The department store, because it is a large purchaser, may obtain a heavy additional discount, which en- ables it to market the book at trade price, or even lower, and yet make a reasonable profit. CHAPTER XXXIII Illustrations ABOUT a third of the books published, other than those in paper covers, and considerably more than half of the magazine articles and stories, are accompanied by one or several illus- trations, which are either what is known as half- tone engravings, or reproductions of line prints, or from pen and ink drawings. Half-tone engravings, or what are commer- cially known as half-tone cuts, are produced from photographs, either from nature, or from wash drawings, or from oil paintings. A photograph of the object is taken in the ordinary way. The same solution which is used in the making of photo- graph paper is placed upon the surface of a plate of copper or zinc. This metallic plate, with the photograph upon it, is placed in a trough re- sembling a small cradle on rockers. Sufficient 185 186 THE ART OF STORY WRITING acid is poured into the cradle so that it will flow over the surface of the plate when the cradle is rocked. This acid eats between the lines of the photograph, but does not affect the photo- graph itself. Thus the plate is etched, and has a surface similar to that of type, although more shallow. In the making of half-tone plates, however, which are taken from photographs of objects which are not lined off or of indistinct lines, it is obvious that no printing result could be obtained if the picture was not broken up or separated into distinct parts, allowing for space between them. To accomplish this, the photograph is taken through a screen, which consists of a pane of glass, upon which are painted lines or dots, running from eighty to three hundred to the square inch. When the coarse screen is used, the plate may be printed in an ordinary newspaper, but fine half-tone engravings require coated paper or paper with a very hard surface. So-called line-engravings or cuts are made in the same way, except that no screen is used. Half-tone plates cost from fifteen to twenty- ILLUSTRATIONS 187 ^ye cents per square inch, and line-plates from eight to fifteen cents per square inch. Originally, all illustrations were engraved upon wood, the picture being drawn upon boxwood, which has the finest fiber, with a pencil, or else the object was photographed upon the wood it- self. The engraver, with a fine instrument, cuts between the lines. The cost of the woodcut, be- cause of the skill and time required in the making of it, was excessive, many book and magazine il- lustrations costing from fifty to even two or three hundred dollars. The woodcut is, to-day, prac- tically obsolete, and photo-engraving has super- ceded it, at an enormous saving of expense. An illustration which formerly cost from fifty to three hundred dollars to produce, can now be made, and have a much better appearance, for a few dollars. While coarse half-tone engravings may be printed upon book paper, they seldom appear in a book, most of the illustrations, unless line-cuts, being printed upon coated paper and inserted, which increases the cost of paper and binding. A few books are printed upon coated paper, 188 THE ART OF STORY WRITING but as a glazed or hard surface affects the eye, the text in most books is printed upon book paper. Line-illustrations may appear in the body of the book, on the regular book paper, as they do not require a coated surface. Several books are illustrated with one or more colored plates, which are produced by either what is known as the three-color printing process or by lithography. If the former method is used, the object is photographed through three colors of glass, and three half-tone plates are made, one from each photograph. These are printed in three colors of ink, one for each plate, and the colors of the ink blend upon the paper, reproduc- ing the actual colors of the original. This work is expensive, and the plates must be printed upon coated paper and inserted into the book. Lithography is occasionally used for book illus- trations. It is more expensive than is the three- color process, unless a large edition is printed. Lithographic work is produced by drawing a picture upon lithographic stone, requiring as many stones as ther« are primary colors used. ILLUSTRATIONS 189 Let us suppose, for example, that the picture is to be in six colors. That part of the picture, which is to appear in one color is drawn upon one stone, and so on until the work is completed. One color is printed at a time, and the finished prod- uct is similar to the original colored sketch or painting. The drawing upon stone is made with a pencil containing a greasy substance. The lines sink slightly into the stone but have very little raised surface, so little that one may not be able to distinguish the engraved stone from one unen- graved by passing his hand over the surface. The law of nature does not allow water to ad- here to grease, or grease to adhere to water. The lithographic press has two sets of rollers, one carrying ink, the other saturated with water. The stone passes under the wet rollers first, and the water does not interfere with what is drawn upon the stone, but clings exclusively to that part of the stone which is not engraved. Lithographic ink contains some oil, which prevents the ink from attaching itself to the parts of the stone which are wet, the ink being distributed wholly upon the engraved portions, which are impressed 190 THE ART OF STORY WRITING upon the paper in the same way that type print- ing is done. Occasionally the illustrations are printed upon Japanese, Chinese, or other thin paper, and tipped upon the pages by pasting the upper end of the picture onto the white page. Many books contain little corner illustrations, which are vignetted into the book, usually at the beginning of each chapter, and may be a part of initial letters. They may be printed upon any kind of paper. Mechanical drawings, which are usually in out- line, are inexpensive, and do not require the use of coated paper or that of a hard surface. It is evident that the expense of illustrating a book is considerable, not wholly because of the cost of the plates, but because they often require coated paper, which must be inserted into the book, and which increases the cost of binding. If the book is to be illustrated, other than by the reproduction of photographs, which the author may or may not supply, an artist is engaged by the publisher, who reads the manuscript, and un- der the joint direction of the publisher and author. ILLUSTRATIONS 191 draws scenes or characters appearing in the book. Illustrations add materially to the sale of the book, and often justify the additional expense, but are not considered necessary to the average novel or work of fiction. Some publishers require the author of an illus- trated book to release his royalty upon a thousand or more copies, to meet the additional expense of illustration. Illustrations for articles or stories in magazines, and other periodicals, are printed upon the regu- lar body paper, which is usually of a hard sur- face, permitting the use of half-tone engravings. It is suggested that, if the author feels that il- lustrations would add materially to his work, he outline the subjects of them, and furnish the pub- lisher with photographs of scenes or persons to be reproduced. Photographs and negatives may be ** doctored," so to speak, and even material changes made, which may affect the individuality or personality of the originals or be improvements. Photographs should be used whenever it is pos- sible to obtain them. If taken especially for the 192 THE ART OF STORY WRITING purpose, a photographer familiar with half-tone work should be employed, and, in any event, he should be told that his photographs are for re- production. As a rule, the photograph or sketch, should be larger than the reproduction of it, as a better result can be obtained by photographing down rather than by photographing up. CHAPTER XXXIV The Reading of Prootb BOOK publishers invariably furnish the author with galley proofs of the manuscript, U8U« ally a half dozen or more proofs at a time. Oc- casionally, however, the entire book is set, and the author receives the proof of the whole of it, with the exception of the index, if there be one. Galley proofs are long strips of paper, two or three feet in length, the type matter appearing in the center, with wide margins. These proofs represent the width of the page, but not the length. The author is supposed to read these proofs carefully and to make corrections upon the mar- gin. Because it is much easier to correct a proof ill galley, than it is after the tjrpe is paged up, the 193 194j the art of story WRITING author should read the galley proofs with the ut- most care and attempt to make all of his correc- tions upon these proofs. After the type is put into pages, it is both difficult and expensive to make more than minor corrections. The galley proof can be of any length, and words or lines can be added or omitted, when to do so in the page proof might require the trans- position of several lines of type through seyeral pages. Most book publishers allow the author to make corrections up to not exceeding twenty-five dol- lars worth, or ten per cent, of the cost of setting the type in the first place. For example, if it costs, say, three hundred dollars, to set the type for a book, the author may be allowed, for cor- rections, ten per cent, of three hundred dollars, or thirty dollars. If his corrections exceed that amount, he is charged the additional cost of mak- ing them. Many an author, through carelessness, has been obliged to pay for author's corrections more than the entire cost of the first setting of the book. Recently a friend of mine, an inexperienced author. THE READING OF PROOFS 195 although one of the broadest education, was obliged to pay nearly double the cost of the orig- inal setting for the changes and corrections he made on both galley and page proofs. If the manuscript is typewritten, and carefully read, both by the author and by the one to whom he has submitted it, the author*8 corrections are not likely to exceed the amount allowed by the publisher. After the galley proofs have been corrected, the type matter is paged up, with running headings. For example, if the book bears a title of '* John Smith, Merchant," tlie proofs of even pages will have at the top the line, " John Smith, Mer- chant," with the page number at the left of it. The right-hand pages will carry either a repeti- tion of the title of the book or the subject-matter of the chapter, followed by a page number. The page number may be placed at the bottom of the page. Occasionally a book is published without running headings. The publisher usually sends the page proofs to the author. These should be read with great care, and the author should remember that corrections 196 THE ART OF STORY WRITING made on page proofs, for the reason which I have already stated, are both difficult and expensive to make. If the author desires to change a word or sen- tence in the page proofs he may usually, if he be careful, make changes which will not require the running over of a line or lines into the following page or pages. Practically all books are electrotyped, and elec- trotype-proofs may be sent to the author for final revision. Minor corrections can be made upon them, but at large expense. The author's manuscript should be as near cor- rect as possibility admits, particularly if it is to be set on the linotype, which machine casts full lines, making corrections more difficult to handle than when the composition is done by hand or on a typesetting machine. Many books are set on the linotype, because it costs less, and the effect on the printed page is practically the same, unless coated or hard paper is used. The author is semiresponsible for spelling, punc- tuation, and paragraphing, but misspelled words, unless of a technical character, will undoubtedly THE READING OF PROOFS 197 be corrected in the editorial department or by the compositor, and the making of these corrections not charged to the author. ♦ Each publisher, as a rule, has his own style of spelling words which admit of more than one spell- ing, of capitalization, paragraphing, and punc- tuation, and he is likely to follow it, irrespective of the manuscript, unless the work be purely tech- nical. Some publishers punctuate very freely, others do it sparingly. One publisher prefers many paragraphs, while another uses a less number. As there is no standard for punctuation or para- graphing, except that all styles follow a general rule, the author should not object to the styles maintained by his publisher. Every literary writer should understand the rudiments, at least, of proof-reading, so as to be able to correct his proof. The following pages present all of the proof- reading marks in common use. Although these marks vary slightly, all of those given will be readily understood by every compositor, printer, editor, and publisher. 198 THE ART OF STORY WRITING I will not go. -^ I WILL not g^ William/lar.k. ft Williara.BIac^ 'i (c»V*cn4J Boston. Mass. ^ • ^^>^ BosfoN, Ma^ Boston Tribune. Kf^CUL Boston Tn'6un*> Chicago Express. |^ OMA* Chicago Express: Oo iiTto the halL O <^ ^^^ the haU. Trait^ stop here. ^* Trains stop here. [Hundreds of dogs. Thousands of cats. «*•» Hundreds of dogs. ^^ Thousands of cats. THE READING OF PROOFS 199 Agreat SfxtAxfM. X » ^ Agreat&ir. C 9 6* He called htm honomblel* ^^ ^ •« He odled him • honorable M • Timothy TJtcomb J. G. HolUnd. ^ / J Timothy Titcorob 0- G- Hollwd) Wendell PhWhpJ Oratioms. ? / Wendell PhilUpe : Oratiom Stones groN^animaJs live. ^ / Stones grow; animals fivey Fie. my lord/a soldier? / / Fi«.'«y lord! a aolditr^ , eJ?6w«wui^^*^^A •/ goo THE ART OF STORY WRITING 1 tour you so. Q I told you so. Tell mc your^»^name. Q^ .Tell me your name* Co to bed; Go to your bed; Where ishe ? aj/^ Where is he?3 Come with mclquickly7 Sl/^ ^Hz Cbme with me quickly,^ Go J Co J Go: I i t Go — Go— Go. Fish^ Fish/pish, I ^ _ I Fish Fish Fish. '• THE READING OF PROOFS 201 I Are you going"? "^ ^ J^ Are you going f Arc you wellT ■Arc you well ? ^ \ «;o pins. ^ ^^ • C' js ncffllJs. ^ l< vw^A ^aa so P»n«» *5 n««dle«, 75 thimbles. C~75 thimbles. Gcid morning I vo P ^o**** morning ? I don't mmmO. to go I O^^l^ I don't w«nt to go. For^jJin^dJ^ -t V ''*' ^" '"^ *"*■ A selection fsufficient for both of us. A sufficient selection for both of us. Btst|*nd West | | East and West ^A school for ^racticajl roen. ^ ^ A practical school for men. 202 THE ART OF STORY WRITING I Jove you/ Do you love my w / P J I love you. Do you love' me f Some pens paper and ink. ^ I J j Some pens, paper, and ink. ; Druggists sundries. \/ Druggists* sundries.. Hall's Romeo.^ 0/ W Hall's "Romeo.^ % V V A well wisher. 25. / ■^ well-wisher*? will go. V-w»vtf < >^>1I go* will go. .J. ^^ ^'^^ g°* il hey will go. f S't' r a^^y^"^*^ They will go. Take Notice., ^J— *'*^-*^ (j^=Take Notice. THE READING OF PROOFS 203 The marks should be written in either of the margins, and not between the lines of type. If a considerable amount of matter is to be added, it is better not to write it upon the margin, but to cut the proof in two, — the addition to be writ- ten upon a piece of paper and pasted between the two ends of the severed proof. CHAPTER XXXV Books Published at the Author's Expense REPUTABLE publishers often publish, wholly or partly at the author's expense, books which would appear to have a small sale. First- class publishers, however, will not place upon the market any book discreditable to them. Thousands of books have seen the light of pub- lication, which could not be considered profitable. Let us suppose, for example, that you have made a study of some scientific subject, and desire to place the result of your labors in book form. If the subject is not one which will warrant a sale sufficient to pay the cost of publication and a fair profit to the publisher, any reputable publisher will consider the publication of the book if the author stands between him and loss, the author taking the whole or a part of the risk. When this is done, the publisher becomes the agent of the author and may pay him as much as twenty- five per cent, of the retail or list price. 204 BOOKS AT AUTHOR'S EXPENSE 206 Occasionally an author, who is financially able, prefers to make this arrangement; for, if the book is successful, his remuneration will be larger. But probably ninety-nine per cent, of books pub- lished are at the expense of the publisher, who assumes all risk. It is obvious that a publisher is more likely to push the sale of a book, if he is not guaranteed against loss. Under another chapter heading, I have pre- sented the methods used by disreputable pub- lishers, who almost invariably publish books at their authors' expense. If a reputable publisher considers the manu- script of value, and yet feels that its publication would be unprofitable to him, he will frankly ex- press himself to the author, and arrangements may be made with him for its publication, the author assuming the whole or a part of the risk. If several publishers refuse to publish a manu- script, except at the author's expense, the writer may be assured that either his manuscript is un- worthy of publication, or else that it is upon a subject whicli will not command a profitable sale. CHAPTER XXXVI Complimentary Copies of Books CUSTOM, entirely without justification, al- lows the friends of an author to expect com- plimentary copies. Comparatively few of these persons realize that the author has to purchase every copy of the book he receives, with the exception of a few, and at the same price which the bookstore has to pay for them. If the book retails for a dollar net, the author must pay seventy-five cents per copy. If at a dollar gross, the author may purchase them at sixty-six and two-thirds cents per copy. To present a friend with an autograph copy of the book, the author must pay, out of his own pocket, from two thirds to three quarters of the retail price of the book. There is absolutely no reason why he should present these copies any more than should the 206 COMPLIMENTARY COPIES 207 publisher or the bookstore keeper, or any more than should the grocer furnish his friends with complimentary cans of tomatoes or free bags of sugar. Unless the author is wealthy, he should frankly inform the friends who ask for copies of his book, that he has to pay for them in cold cash. Nothing but frankness, and the telling of the truth, will prevent misunderstanding, and sometimes rupture of friendship. The friend, as a rule, does not intend to put the author to any expense, but he is likely to have the mistaken idea that a complimentary copy of the book costs the author nothing. Consider your books, then, as merchandise. There is no more reason why you should give away copies of them than should the tradesman furnish his friends with free groceries or free shoes. CHAPTER XXXVII Books in Libraries THE librarians of all leading and well-kept libraries carefully read the announcements of book publishers, and follow the reviews which appear in the magazines and newspapers. They recommend the purchase of books to their advisory or purchasing committees. As many as a thousand copies of a meritorious book may be sold to the libraries, some of them purchasing several copies. The sale of a book to the libraries adds much to the reputation of the writer, but may more or less materially effect its sale to the public. I recall one book in particular, which probably was read by more than two million holders of li- brary cards, and yet the actual sale of it was not more than five thousand. If there were any way of preventing the sale of a book to a library, it might be well for the 208 BOOKS IN LIBRARIES 209 author to consider it; but as the library will pur- chase the books it wants, irrespective of the feel- ings of the author, this condition will continue to exist, and there would appear to be no way to prevent it. On the other hand, it is quite probable that several books have been sold, which would not have been if the books had not been on the public li- brary shelves. If the book is both valuable and popular, it is obvious that it is likely to be out most of the time. Those who have read it, either by pur- chasing it or by taking it from tho library, will recommend it to their friends. If these friends are book buyers, this commendation may increase its sale. It is further evident, that many a per- son who would not otherwise purchase the book, will do so after he has failed several times to pro- cure it from the public library. CHAPTER XXXVIII The Advance Publication, oe Republication, OF Books, Stories, and Ajlticles QUITE a number of books, stories, and ar- ticles appear, one chapter or section at a time, in the magazines or in the newspapers, be- fore or after they are placed on the market in book or other form. Although it would seem apparent to the un- initiated that the publication of a work in period- icals would effect the sale of it in book form, ex- perience shows that the opposite is true. Comparatively few book publishers will refuse to publish a manuscript which has appeared peri- odically in the magazines or newspapers, because of such publication; in fact, most of them will consider it a selling advantage. Then, many manuscripts are published peri- odically after they have appeared in book form. 210 ADVANCE PUBLICATION 211 This, strange as it may seem, is likely to increase the sale of the book. Of course, this syndicating must be done with the consent of the book publisher, and he may or may not share in the profits. A manuscript may be submitted to the book publisher, with periodical or syndicate rights re- served to the author, or the book publisher may own the periodical or syndicate rights and share the money received with the writer. The writer of a really meritorious work of fic- tion may obtain an extra income by allowing his manuscript to be published in one or more period- icals or newspapers before it appears in book form. Hundreds of successful books are placed upon the market after the story has been pub- lished in a magazine or other periodical, or in several newspapers. A magazine, as a rule, will not publish matter which has appeared in any other form, but the publisher does not usually object to the appear- ance of it in a book after it has been published in the magazine. The magazine publisher will not accept a manuscript if it is to appear simul- ^12 THE ART OF STORY WRITING taneously in any other publication. The news- paper, however, does not object to simultaneous publication in several others, if they are not lo- cated in the same territory, of an acceptable man- uscript, whether or not it is eventually to appear in book form. In another chapter I have explained the proc- ess of syndicating. CHAPTER XXXIX The Linotype, Monotype, and Typesetting Machine FORMERLY all books, magazines, and news- papers were printed from type which was hand-set. The invention of the Linotype, Mono- type, and typesetting machine has revolutionized printing. Although many books are now hand-set, and from movable type, in the old-fashioned way, quite a number are set by machine, with good results, although the quality obtained may not equal that from hand-set type. The Linotype operator manipulates a key- board similar to that of the typewriter, and the machine automatically casts complete lines. The Monotype differs from the Linotype in that it automatically casts and sets individual pieces of t3rpe. The operator uses a keyboard, and as each key is depressed an impression is 213 214 THE ART OF STORY WRITING made upon a sheet of revolving paper. This is run through the type-casting machine, and the type is automatically cast and set. The typesetting machine uses ordinary type, made for the purpose, and the operator uses a keyboard. Unless the book is to be printed upon coated or hard paper, it is often difficult for the layman to distinguish the difference between machine-set work and that done by hand. Electrotypes from hand-set type, however, are usually better, and will last longer, than those made with the type which is set automatically. Machine work, of course, is much more econom- ical ; and as it answers the purpose in many cases, it is very much in vogue. CHAPTER XL Electrotypino and Steeeottfino PRACTICALLY all books are printed from electrotype or stereotype plates, although comparatively few books are stereotyped, the electrotype being used almost universally. Plates are made for four reasons: first, to save the wear of the type; secondly, because a very much larger edition may be printed from electro- types than is possible from type; thirdly, because type forms are unsafe, as some letters may drop out while in the press; and, fourthly, because it would be altogether too expensive to hold a book in type. By the use of electrotype plates sub- sequent editions, up to even two or three hundred thousand, may be printed at short notice. The process of electrotyping is as follows: An impression is taken in wax of the type form. The surface of the wax is dusted with graphite, the material which is used for the making of pencils, and which is of almost microscopic fineness. As 215 216 THE ART OF STORY WRITING graphite is metallic, it is a conductor of electric- ity. The wax matrix, or mold, with the graphite upon it, which only covers the surface, is placed in a bath of acid, and is connected by wire with the negative pole of the battery. A piece of sheet copper is submerged, and attached to a wire leading to the positive pole of the battery. The electricity passes from the copper to the mold covered with graphite. This process continues until a copper plate of sufficient thickness to handle is produced. It is then backed with lead, mounted on wood or blocks made of other mate- rial, and is then ready for printing. The art of stereotyping consists of making a mold of the type in plaster of Paris or papier- mache. Papier-mache, when moist, is of about the same consistency as a spit-ball. It is placed upon the type form and beaten in with brushes, pro- ducing a mold into which molten lead is poured. This process is seldom used for books or for job printing, and is maintained principally by newspapers, where speed is of more consequence than quality. The result is far inferior to that obtained from electrotyping. CHAPTER XU Ths Value op Exfkeibnce and Timeliness IF a single individual could carry in storage all of the book learning in the world, and had a memory which would retain everything, from columns of figures to historical dates, he would not, from the possession of this knowledge alone, be a good producer of anything save that pertaining to the purely technical or statistical, and even then I doubt if he could produce any work worthy of publication. Experience, with the fundamentals of educa- tion as a working basis, is of tremendous impor- tance, and without it learning has little or no usable value. While a few writers, like a few actors, leap Into tilmost instantaneous fame, comparatively few ever meet success until they have passed through years of hard experience, and have not only seen, but felt, conditions. 217 218 THE ART OF STORY WRITING A single ocean trip in a floating hotel is not sufficient for the writing of a nautical story. A personally conducted tour into the catacombs does not give the traveler a sufficient grasp upon ancient history to enable him to write a historical novel. Experience of the broadest kind is necessary for every result of more than ordinary accom- plishment; and with it, special experience, if the subject be out of the ordinary. Further, one must not only experience expe- rience, but he must be able to put the result of ex- perience upon paper in a way which will be satis- factory to the reader. He has two things to do: First, he must become familiar, not by hearsay, but by actual contact, with the things which he is to write about ; and, secondly, by experience of them and among them, he must learn how to write about what he knows. The mere accumu- lation of knowledge, or of experience, is insuffi- cient. There must be that further experience in handling experience. While all of the later books by an author may not show improvement, the chances are that the THE .VALUE OF EXPERIENCE 219 last book, or one of the last ones, will be his best, unless he overwrites and is too prolific, which condition occasionally occurs. I have in mind two writers of boys' books, who obtained international fame from their first dozen volumes, and lost half of it by continuing to write when they had outwritten themselves. Their later works so closely resembled their former books that they received little commendation. Their plota became alike, their characters the same. They simply produced a conglomeration of words, set in short paragraphs, with conversa- tions liberally interspersed, but said nothing and made their characters do nothing, except what they had said before and what had been done be- fore. Both for fame and for money, it is better to produce a fewer number of books or stories, than to attempt to flood the market with similar pro- ductions. It has been said that there is just so much in a man, — that the brain contains a limited num- ber of cells, and that, theoretically, all of them may be exhausted. While this is not true scien- £20 THE ART OF STORY WRITING tifically, it would seem to apply to prolific writers, and to take away from them the fame of their earlier productions. Quality, rather than quantity, pays the best dividends. Let us suppose, for example, that a certain au- thor has obtained a great success because of his mystery stories. Primarily these books sold be- cause the public thought them worth reading. This writer may have little difficulty in obtaining the publication of a manuscript much below the average grade, provided it does not wholly lack in merit. A large number of readers will buy his book because of his reputation. By intrinsic quality, he has gained their approval, and be- cause of it, the public will purchase and read everything which he writes. But it is obvious that his best books will seU the best. Still the sale of his second quality will be sufficiently large to justify its publication. The seasonableness of the book is an important item. If, for example, the newspapers are filled with accounts of the loss of several hundred lives THE VALUE OF EXPERIENCE 221 by the foundering of a great ocean liner, every one is reading, or has read, these accounts. A book, then, describing an ocean disaster, would have a sale, because the subject is opportune; and this book, although rather indifferently written) may be a greater seller than it would have been if it had not had the advertising value of the re- cent ocean horror. Another example: Let us suppose that trade unionism is being discussed in every newspaper, that legions of lecturers are commending or con- demning the organization of labor; the subject is timely, and the public will read almost anything fairly well put together, which presents the rela- tions of capital to labor. It is difficult, however, to anticipate these events, and almost as hard to produce a book be- fore the excitement has waned; but if the author has a manuscript completed or nearly so, he is likely to find a market for it, which would not as readily meet him under ordinary conditions. The production of something new, or an origi- nal treatment of a pertinent subject, often ere- 9.%% THE ART OF STORY WRITING ates a market. The very originally of the man- uscript will give it a prestige even beyond its literary merits. It has been said that the average editor or lit- erary adviser or reader is biased in favor of the well-known or popular author, and will accept a manuscript from him, and turn down one equally good, or even a better one, from an unknown writer. This is probably true, to an extent, at least, partly because many so-called readers of manuscript are incompetent, and, further, be- cause it is extremely difficult to weigh literary values. Then, commercialism comes in, and plays havoc with the young or unknown author. So long as many readers will refuse to pur- chase a book unless it is written by a popular au- thor, or by one of reputation, it is evident that the publisher takes less financial risk when he publishes a manuscript of ordinary quality by an acceptable author, than he would take in putting out a better book by an author entirely unknown or little known. There appears to be no remedy in sight. So long as financial profit must be considered, the pub- THE VALUE OF EXPERIENCE 223 lisher will give preference to the manuscript which will sell, provided its quality is not low enough to injure his reputation. Thousands of manuscripts, representing years of labor, and containing matter of great benefit to the world, never see the light of publication, because they would be unprofitable financially. They must be published, then, at the author's ex- pense, or at the expense of philanthropists or friends. Of this I have spoken in another chap- ter. I would suggest, at this point, that here is a truly philanthropic opportunity, — for men of wealth to endow a publishing house, so that it may publish manuscripts of unusual merit, which would be of great benefit to the world at large, and yet would be unprofitable as money-makers. Many books would receive an enormous read- ing at the libraries, and yet would not sell to any large extent. They would be available to those who needed them and yet could not afford to pur- chase them. For this reason they are not profit- able publishing propositions. The thought of the world should be concen- «^4 THE ART OF STORY WRITING trated between covers, but so long as commercial- ism must govern the publication of books, just so long will much of the inner brain of man be un- able to find typographical expression, especially those thoughts which appeal to the higher in- stincts, and not to the pocketbook. Therefore, do not hope for recognition until you have experience. With it you may accom- plish much; without it there is little to be ex- pected. Experience goes hand in hand with ability. Either by itself is insuflScient to produce accept- able result. CHAPTER XLII Syndicate Writems DURING the last few years, there has been established an entirely new department of journalism and of general writing, technically known as the syndicate. More than seventy-five per cent, of the special articles and stories appearing in the daily news- papers are furnished by these syndicates. The syndicate maintains an office of its own, has its managers and editors. It covers every department of literature and of newspaper work, including news and even book manuscripts, but not the publication of the books themselves. The syndicate purchases of authors, and of writers of every class, anything which would be of interest to newspaper readers, and sells copies of it to the newspapers. The matter, whether it is a short story or a serial,, or a special article, or even news itself, is 226 226 THE ART OF STORY WRITING set in type, and proofs of it sent to the newspa- pers. The newspaper purchases this matter at speci- fied price, per column or page, setting the matter in its own composing room; or it may, in many cases, obtain stereotyped plates or matrices, which reduces the expense of composition. There is no standard price for syndicate mat- ter. It is sold for what it appears to be worth, with an additional price for furnishing it in the form of stereotypes or in matrix, and at aston- ishingly low figures. The stereotype plates of an entire page of seven columns can be purchased for a few dollars, with a rebate of fifty per cent, upon return of the plates, which are melted up, and the metal used over again. Matrices, which are made of papier-mache, and from which any paper carr^^ing a stereotyping plant can cast, are very inexpensive. Syndicate writers receive, as a rule, rather mere than would be paid them by any one news- paper. Let us suppose, for example, that a syn- dicate purchases an article at a certain price ; it offers it to the newspapers, either in the form SYNDICATE WRITERS 227 of proofs, or in plates, or in matrix. If in the form of proof, it charges the newspaper for its use anywhere from fifty cents to three hundred dollars, the average price for a column article hardly exceeding a dollar and a half. The newspaper, then, obtains quite an accept- able article at not far from one twenty-fifth of what it would have to pay if the article was writ- ten especially for it. While the average price paid by the newspaper does not exceed a dollar and a half a column, occasionally very high prices are paid for syndicate matter. I recall a series of humorous articles, each of which occupied about a column. The author ob- tained about twelve hundred dollars for each of them, and the newspapers paid from twenty-five to three hundred dollars per article. The discoverer of the North Pole, for example, would experience little difficulty in getting from five hundred to a thousand dollars for a single chapter of his story, and each newspaper publish- ing it would pay from twenty-five to two hundred and fifty dollars for the privilege of using it. The newspaper frequently purchases exclusive 228 THE ART OF STORY WRITING rights for its own city, and when it does so it pays more, per column, than it would if the matter was " at large." Syndicates purchase newspaper rights to a story, either before or after it is published in book form; and the book appears, chapter by chapter, in the newspapers which subscribe for it. There is no standard price for the author. So far as I know, the largest sum ever paid for the newspaper-publication rights to a book was a dol- lar a word, but I doubt if this has been given to more than two authors. Usually the syndicate pays from one hundred to two hundred dollars for the newspaper rights to a book, which sum is di- vided between the book publisher and the au- thor. Strange as it may seem, the publication of fic- tion in the newspapers, before or after its appear- ance in book form, increases, rather than decreases, the sale of the book; and many book publishers are anxious to have some of their books appear, chapter by chapter, in the newspapers, either be- fore or after book publication. The syndicate offers the special writer more SYNDICATE WRITERS 229 remuneration than he can possibly receive from any one newspaper, provided that he has the abil- ity to produce something which is acceptable to newspaper readers, and is seasonable, and appears to have a special value to each community, al- though it is published in a hundred different places. Some authors maintain their own syndicates, handling the matter themselves, and with success; but, as this is an age of specialization, they come in direct competition with the great syndicate companies, who can easily furnish plates and ma- trices. I do not think that the majority of these writers do as well as they would if they sold their matter direct to the syndicate companies. Several of the great newspapers maintain syn- dicates of their own. For example, a Chicago paper runs a series of articles, or stories, or hu- morous illustrations with text, the matter being written or drawn by a member of its staff. The matter, illustrated or otherwise, is made up into pages, and the paper furnishes a certain number of papers, one to a city, with matrices of the page or pages, the expense being proportioned between 2S0 THE ART OF STORY WRITING the papers subscribing, the paper originating the matter naturally making a profit. Two or more pages in every great newspaper are produced or obtained in this way. The writ- ers receive practicalljr what would be given them by any syndicate. While the syndicate is labor-saving and money- saving, and represents progression and modern efficiency, and while it enables the author to ob- tain more for his work, it is obvious that it ma- terially cuts down the demand for special articles and stories. By its use, the newspapers, which otherwise would have to pay individual market prices for miscellany and stories, can obtain just as good material for about ten per cent, of what it would cost if it were not for the syndicate. I could not consistently give the names of the leading syndicate companies, but the editor of any good newspaper would undoubtedly furnish them to inquirers. Some syndicate companies pay a royalty, based upon the sale of the articles. They send out an announcement of it, with price given, and pay the author from ten to twenty-five per cent, of the re- SYNDICATE WRITERS ^1 ceipts of the sale of that particular matter, but most of the articles used by syndicates are pur- chased outright. The syndicates give preference to humorous or to illustrated stories and articles, and pay higher prices for them than for others. To be accept- able they must be seasonable or sensational, yet there is an increasing demand for good literature. CHAPTER XLni Papee-Covered Books ON the news-stands are displayed hundreds, if not thousands, of paper-covered books, retailing at from ten to fifty cents. Many of them are merely republications of old books, upon which the copyright has expired. Others were written especially for this purpose. The so-called dime or yellow novel belongs to this class. Comparatively few books of real char- acter and merit, except those which have been pub- lished before, appear in paper form. The books which first see the light between paper covers are usually written by what are known as " hack writers," most of whom produce improb- able and inconsistent dialogue. Their only merit appears to be vested in the vast volume of their sensationalism and improbability. The writer may exercise but little care, and pay less atten- tion to detail or to consistency. He may be said 232 PAPER-COVERED BOOKS 233 to write his story upon a roll of wall paper, and to cut the paper with a knife or ax when a sufficient number of words has been written. I know of a few very able authors, and men of liberal education, who, for financial reasons, pro- duce this sort of stuff. The sale of these books is enormous, and even though the author may receive only a small royalty, it is probable that, in some cases, his financial returns are greater than they would be if he confined himself to a higher grade of literature. One of the most prolific writers has produced a series of detective stories, which are unworthy of the paper which they spoil. He writes at arm's length, so to speak, and gives little attention to the formation of the plot or to the unraveling of his complexities. His books contain words, words, words. Yet he is a man of refinement and liberal education, one who could produce, if he would, high-class matter. Another instance, which will interest the reader: Some years ago there appeared in one of the so- called popular magazines, a series of detective ar- ticles written by a writer unknown to literary 234 THE ART OF STORY WRITING fame. This writer possessed a remarkable insight into detective methods. His works showed unu- sual ability. True, some of his plots and situa- tions were exaggerated, and there was a sort of coarseness to his work, which the critical reader could not avoid seeing; yet there was an under- current of remarkable talent. The literary adviser to one of our leading book publishers called upon this author, and told him that, if he would carefully write his books, and not produce more than two or three a year, he would obtain for him strong literary recognition. The author puffed tranquilly at his cigar, and replied: " I don't want fame. Money's good enough for me. I can turn out several thousand words a day ; get my money for 'em. What's the use of repu- tation? My way's the easiest way, and the most remunerative." While ninety-nine per cent, of the so-called yel- low stuff, — I use the term stuff advisedly, — is a menace, and I believe that it should be suppressed, I must admit that a certain amount of talent is necessary for its production. Where this talent exists, I would advise the writer to sacrifice mone}? PAPER-COVERED BOOKS 235 for a good reputation. If he can succeed in man- ufacturing worthless matter, although there is a demand for it, the same effort given to producing real literature would probably result in a sufficient income to justify good work« CHAPTER XLIV The Selmng Value of Reputation SEVERAL conditions go to make a successful book: First, the majority of good sellers reach success because of their intrinsic merit. Comparatively few books, even by the greatest au- thors, enjoy more than a limited sale, unless they are of high quality. While there are few excep- tions, and while the author's reputation may carry a book of mediocre character, it may be said that the selling value of every book is based fundamen- tally upon the quality of the book itself. Do not allow yourself to feel that, because you are un- known, your manuscript will be turned down if it contains sufficient quality. If what the reading public demands is in your work and if your style, character drawing, and formation of plot are good, the chances are your manuscript will be published, although many publishers may refuse to accept it. Merit, or quality, may be considered the first requisite. 236 SELUNG VALUE OF REPUTATION £37 Secondly, it is an undisputed fact that the author's reputation or selling value counts might- ily, and that the average publisher will often ac- cept a manuscript of fair quality from a popular writer, or from one of great reputation, when he would not be willing to publish it if an unknown name appeared as its author. Commercialism, un- fortunately, does not play a minor part on the stage of literature. Publishers are in business for profit and it is obvious that they cannot avoid con- sidering the snlableness of the manuscript as well as the quality of it, and will, therefore, publish many a work which would never see the light if it were submitted to them by an unknown writer. This condition, however, should not discourage the embryo author. If he has the right kind of stuff in him, he will succeed eventually, although he may not be able to escape the travail of disappoint- ment, discouragement, and long-waiting. The cream usually rises to the top, unless unforeseen conditions interfere. The young writer, then, must be prepared to wait, and, perhaps, a long time, for recognition. He must realize that merit alone is not sufficient 238 THE ART OF STORY WRITING to justify the publisher in accepting his work. By merit he must obtain what may be called a commercial, as well as a literary, reputation; but no reputation can be kept intact unless it is founded upon real quality. While this condition is discouraging to the would-be writer, it exists not wholly unfairly. Reputation, especially one which may be marketed, must be earned; and nothing is obtained in this world without strenuous, earnest, and faithful en- deavor, and the consumption of time. The successful writer has gained his reputation and position by beginning at the bottom and by rising step by step. No matter how successful he may become, he reached the top, or obtained a place near the top, by passing through dis- couragement, and by overcoming the obstacles which are strewn upon every literary path. Occasionally one book places an author in the front rank, but usuall}^ it does not bring him more than a limited recognition, unless he has produced several meritorious works. It is a question of time as well as of ability. Literary fame and fortune do not always come SELLING VALUE OF REPUTATION 239 to him who waits, but thej seldom arrive with the earlier efforts, and do not often appear to be in evidence until the author has produced several works of quality. CHAPTER XLV The Income of Book Writers THE publishers of America, including the pub- lishers of text-books, schoolbooks, but not of paper-covered novels, issue every year about ten thousand books, including new editions. There are published annually, between book covers, about a thousand works of fiction or novels^ retailing at from one to two dollars, most of the novels being listed at a dollar and a quarter, or at a dollar and a half, quite a number at a dollar, and a few at two dollars or more. Several hun- dred text-books or schoolbooks are published an- nually. The sale of the average novel or work of fic- tion, in book form, is very much less than what is popularly supposed. I think that the majority of books of fiction have a sale rather under than over two thousand. When a book reaches the ten thousand mark it is considered a remarkable 240 THE INCOME OF BOOK WRITERS 241 success. A very few books have had a sale of half a million, and a very much smaller number have enjoyed a circulation of from three quarters of a million to a million. The first-class book publisher has submitted to him from a thousand to two thousand manuscripts a year, and he accepts from ten to possibly twenty- five per cent, of them. As there are a small num- ber of book publishers, and as the prolificness of the would-be book writer is as speedy as the ac- tivity of the incubator, — for he collectively writes several thousand manuscripts a year, — it is evident that one may not hope to receive a very large return, if his books are published, — not more than a hundred dollars, or a few hundred dollars, for each manuscript. Accurate statistics are impossible, because, al- though each book publisher may decline as many as two thousand manuscripts a year, practically all rejected manuscripts are submitted to other publishers, and a part of them accepted in time, but probably eighty-five per cent, of them are never published. The text-book or schoolbook publisher usually 242 THE ART OF STORY WRITING pays a royalty, based upon the list or retail price of the book, of from six to ten per cent. Several hundred thousand copies of a single text-book have been sold, but it is probable that the average text-book does not enjoy a sale of more than a few thousand copies, and many are complete failures. Text-books have, however, one advantage over works of fiction, for the sale of them is likely to increase after five or more years have elapsed, while from fifty to ninety per cent, of the sale of novels occurs within a year of pub- lication. Although many novels or works of fiction con- tinue to be sold by the publishers to the public at list price, the average book publisher will un- load the book, so to speak, as soon as he finds that the flush of the sale has passed. He sells the novel to department and other stores at a heavy discount, and these stores retail it at a price often lower than the regular wholesale price of the book. The public does not have to pay list price for more than a comparatively few novels, after they have been on the market more than a year or two, THE INCOME OF BOOK WRITERS 243 and this condition may or may not effect the roy- alty paid to the author. This subject is treated further in the chapter headed, *' The Income of Magazine and Newspa- per Story or Fiction Writers," and in other chap- ter9« CHAPTER XLVI The Incomes of Magazine and Newspaper Writers HIGH-CLASS magazines, and other period- icals carrying stories, pay about a hundred dollars for a short story written by a well-known author, and as much as two hundred dollars, or even up to a thousand dollars, if the matter has unusual merit, and is by an author of national reputation, and one who possesses the ability to produce salable composition. The unknown author will receive from ten to twenty-five dollars for a short story, if it possesses considerable merit. Serial stories, appearing in magazines, bring from a hundred dollars to as much as three thou- sand dollars, if the work is of unusual quality, and the author well known to the reading pub- lic. 244 INCOMES OF WRITERS 245 The average magazine receives from one to &7e hundred manuscripts a month, and as none of these publications carry more than a dozen stories or articles in a single issue, it is obvious that a very large percentage of the manuscripts submitted are rejected. The author will probably submit his rejected manuscript to other magazines, but even then, it is doubtful if more than five per cent, will be pub- lished. Some publications pay by the word, seldom less than half a cent a word, and from that up to twenty-five cents a word, ^ve cents a word being considered a fair price for an acceptable manu- script. I recall one case, which was very exceptional, where the author received a dollar a word for a series of short stories ; but the publisher purchas- ing the manuscript syndicated the stories so that probably no one publisher of them paid more than five to ten cents a word. The majority of short stories and articles ap- pearing in newspapers are either copied from other periodicals, — frequently from those published 246 THE ART OF STORY WRITING abroad, — or else are contributed without cost by the writers of them. Many a specialist on lines as various as art or science and philanthropy, as philology and social- ism, is glad to write an article for the promotion of his special subject without remuneration. In another chapter I have spoken of the remu- neration received by book writers. CHAPTER XLVn The Remuneration Receited by the Favored Few WITH the distinct understanding that com- paratively few writers ever enjoy more than a moderate income from the work of their pens, and as an encouragement to young writers, I would speak of a few authors who have amassed fortunes. It is said that Sir Walter Scott received nearly a million dollars for his stories, and that Mark Twain's books and writings brought him a for- tune of a million and a half. It is currently thought that Alphonse Daudet received twenty thousand dollars for a single novel. I have heard that General Lew Wallace's royal- ties on " Ben-Hur " and " The Prince of India " aggregated nearly four hundred thousand dollars. 247 248 THE ART OF STORY WRITING Mrs. Humphrey Ward's " David Grieve " and " Marcella " may have brought her over seventy- five thousand dollars. Rumor says that Victor Hugo was paid eighty thousand for " Les Miserables." Hall Caine is reported to have received a check for " The Christian " for fifty thousand dollars ; and Dr. A. Conan Doyle is reported to have en- joyed royalties aggregating three hundred and fifty thousand dollars from one of his novels. " Trilby " is said to have brought its author, Du Maurier, several hundred thousand dollars. I have heard that Rider Haggard will not write a story for less than ten thousand dollars. Booth Tarkington and Richard Harding Davis may receive twenty-five cents a word, and it is quite probable that Rudyard Kipling obtained as much as a dollar a word for some of his writings. Margaret Deland, Mary J. Holmes, Amelia E. Barr, Anna Katherine Green, Kate Douglass Wiggin, Mary E. Wilkins-Freeman, Frances Hodgson Burnett, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Harriet Prescott Spofford, and a few others, have enjoyed large incomes from their works. THE FAVORED FEW 249 E. Phillips Oppenheim, the mystery-story writer, is supposed to earn twenty-five thousand dollars a year. Practically all of these authors are fiction writers, but it is obvious that few, or none of them, reached fame, or obtained high prices for their works, at the start. Age does not appear to make any material dif- ference, Dickens was not twenty-five years old when he wrote " Pickwick Papers," and Richard Watson Gilder, Frank H. Converse, John Howard Payne, George Alfred Townsend, Thomas Hard- ing, Jules Verne, Rider Haggard, J. M. Barrie, Dr. Doyle, Grant Allen, and George Meredith be- came famous when quite young. The author of " Don Quixote " did not finish the second part of his work until he was sixty- eight years old, and De Foe wrote "Robinson Crusoe " at the age of fifty-eight. George Eliot, one of the most successful novel- ists which the world has produced, did not begin her story-writing until she was forty years of age. Do not lose sight, however, of the fact that 250 THE ART OF STORY WRITING these authors were Hamlets on the Stage of Litera- ture, and that few may hope to play leading roles. There is fame and fortune at the top, some fame and less fortune in the middle, and little, very little of either at the bottom. But there is no Royal Road to Literature or to anything else worth while. CHAPTER XLVIII Records of Manuscripts IT IS suggested that the author keep a manu- script record, and enter in it the title of every article or story which he sends out, with the date of sending and the name of the publisher to whom the article or story is sent ; otherwise, he may for- ward a manuscript to a publisher who has rejected it, and would not be able to keep track of his manuscripts. The following form is presented: No. Date Manuscript Word. Sent to Postage or Express Published 1 Jan. 1, 1913 "Vermont Folks" 55,000 Sully & Kleinteich 373 Fourth Ave..N. Y. .30 Feb. 1, 1913 THE END 261 INDEX Advance publication or re- publication of books, stories, and articles, 210. Adventure, stories of, 98. Agencies, literary, 94. Articles, advance publication or republication of, 210. Articles, illustrating of. 186. Articles, special, 45. Articles, syndicating, 99&. Author's expense, books pub- lished at, 204. A word at the start, Pref- B Book, name of, 87. Book, number of words In a, 133. Book or story, name of, 87. Book, price of a, 189. Book publisher, how a manu- script is received and handled by a, 136. Book publishers, contracts with, 149. Book, size of, 199. Book writers, income of, 240. Books, illustrating of, 185. Books in libraries, 208. Books in paper covers, 232. Books published at the author^s expense, 904. Books, stories, and articles. advance publication and re-publication of, 210. Books, syndicating, 225. Bureaus, literary, 94. Career, literary, 1. Children's stories, 35. Comedies, 58. Complimentary copies of books, 206. Contract forms used by book publishers, 149. Contracts with book publisn- ers, 149. Copying manuscripts, 110. Copyrighted matter, quoting from, 177. Copyrighting, 179. Danger of label, 179. Detective stories, 33. Disreputable publishers, 163. Dramas, 58. Electrotyping and stereotyp- ing, 215. Engravings, 185. Entering a literary career, 1. Experience, the value of» 217. 253 Extravaganzas, 58. ^4 INDEX Farcical comedies, 58. Fiction writing, 6. H How a manuscript is re- ceived and handled by a book publisher, 136. How to send a manuscript, 120. Humorous writing, 39. Illustrating of books and articles, 185. Income of book writers, 240. Incomes of magazine and newspaper writers, 244. Libraries, books in, 208. Linotype, 213. Literary agencies or bu- reaus, 94. I/iterary career, entering a, 1. Literary schools, 91. M Magazine writers, the in- comes of, 244. Manuscript, copyrighting a, 110. Manuscript, how it is re- ceived and handled by a book publisher, 136. Manuscript, how to send, 120. Manuscript, number of words in, 113. Manuscript paper, 108. Manuscript, preparation of, 98. Manuscripts, copying them, Manuscripts, rejected, 126. Manuscripts, revising, 115. Melodramas, 58. Monologues, 58. Monotype, 213. Motion picture plays, 84. Mystery stories, 31. N Name of a book or story, 87. Newspaper writers, the in- comes of, 244. Novels, 6. Number of words in a book, 133. Number of words in a manu- script, 113. Paper covered books, 232. Paper for manuscripts, 108. Picture plays, 84. Plating, 215. Plays, motion picture, 84. Play writing, 58. Playwright, 58. Poetry, the writing of, 47. Preparation of a manu- script, 98. Price of a book, 182. Proof reading, 193. Publishers, contracts with, 149. Publishers, disreputable, 163. Q Questionable publishers, 163. Quoting from copyrighted matter, 177. INDEX 265 R Reading of proofs, 193. Records of manuscripts, 251. Rejected manuscripts, 126. Remuneration received by the favored few, 247. Re-pubHcallon of books, stories, and articles, 910. Reputation, selling value of, Revising manuscripts, 115. S Schools, literary, 91. Selling value of reputation, 236. Short stories, simdicating, 2SA Short story, the writing of, 90. Sise of a book, 129. Special stories or articles, 45. Stage, 58. Stereotyping of books, 215. Stories, advance publication or re-publication of, 210. Stories, detective, S3. Stories for children, 35. Stories, short, 20. Stories, special, 45. Stories, syndicating, 225. Stories of adventure, 26. Stories of humor, 39. Stories of mystery, 31. Syndicating books, short stories, and articles, 225. Terms for the publication of books, 143. Theater, 58. Tragedies, 58. Typesetting machines^ 213. Unreliable publishers, 163. V Value of experience, 217, Value of reputation, 236. VaudeviUe, 58. Words in a manuscript, 113. Writers of syndicate matter, 2S5. Writing a short story, 20. Writing Action and novels, 6. Writing, humorous, 39. Writing of plays, 58. Writing of poetry, 47. STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO 50 CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.00 ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. OEC ■JAN. 3 193 '^ i«^ ^V^'^' 3 2M5 5L J '^^^2 1,0,,, it JiMjmz JllH " 7 I'-ih'' LD 21-100m-8,'84 YC126301 > .