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Fantascience Digest, v. 3, issue 1, whole no. 12, January-February 1940

Page 33

FANTASCIENCE DIGEST                           Page 33

ous than ever. For ten years I trailed that serial over the country, from the rock-bound coasts of Maine to the shores of sunny California. I corresponded with interesting fellows during the search, and found their letters more entertaining than most books. Finally -- oh, happy day! -- I acquired all but the last installment of THE BLIND SPOT.

   All but the last! And like a fool I sat down and read what I had, immediately.  

   My friends, that way lies madness! 

   I was in a perfect frenzy to know how the doggoned story ended, and it looked as if I might have to wait another ten years to find out. A southern gentleman in New Orleans heard of my sad plight, however, and out of the goodness of his heart mailed me the last installment. 

   Well, sir, I was in a run down, weakened, nervous condition. The doctors had despaired of ever curing me. But the medicine arrived and I took it in a single dose; it really fixed me up. I now sleep like a baby, almost. Babies don't snore.

   Another story I had difficulty in obtaining was PALOS OFTHE DOG-STAR PACK. My adventure with this epic ran about as follows:

   1.  I had four parts and needed one. 

   2. Mr. A. needs one part, so I swap him that part for the first installment of THE GIRL OF THE GOLDEN ATOM.

   3. Mr. B sends me the part of PALOS which I have always wanted.

   4. I write to Mr. B. I cry on his shoulder, figuratively speaking, and tell him that I'm still short one part (let's call it part three.).

   5. Mr. C, needing part one of PALOS, writes to me offering the last part of DRAFT OF ETERNITY in exchange. Needing this particular item to make Victor Rousseau's novel complete, I accept. 

   6. Mr. B digs up part three of PALOS and shoots it to me, feeling that my happiness should now be complete.

   7. I still haven't got the entire PALOS OF THE DOG-STAR PACK.

   I had no trouble getting the two other tales in this trilogy, though. I've had at different times no less than five duplicates of MOUTHPIECE OF ZITU and JASON, SON OF JASON.

   That's the way it goes in this collecting game -- just one heartbreak after another. It tears down a man's morale, let me tell you. 

   But FAMOUS FANTASTIC MYSTERIES has come to me rescue, and it is quite probable that if I wait long enough I shall at long last be able to get the complete PALOS OF THE DOG-STAR PACK. And had I known ten or more years ago that merely by waiting for this magazine to appear on the newsstands, I could eventually obtain THE BLIND SPOT, I would have spared no end of suffering and writer's cramp. Of course, I wouldn't have met all the interesting people with whom I now correspond, nor have known the thrill of possession which comes  only to science fiction collectors who, after hunting like the dickens, spot their quarry and make the kill.

   Among the other trials of the collector there is always that feeling of suspense when the money is in the mails and the order waits delivery. 

   At such times, I invariable get sea-sick. I wash back and forth between waves of wonder and anxiety. "Will he send it?" "Is the guy reliable?" "What if it

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FANTASCIENCE DIGEST Page 33 ous than ever. For ten years I trailed that serial over the country, from the rock-bound coasts of Maine to the shores of sunny California. I corresponded with interesting fellows during the search, and found their letters more entertaining than most books. Finally -- oh, happy day! -- I acquired all but the last installment of THE BLIND SPOT. All but the last! And like a fool I sat down and read what I had, immediately. My friends, that way lies madness! I was in a perfect frenzy to know how the doggoned story ended, and it looked as if I might have to wait another ten years to find out. A southern gentleman in New Orleans heard of my sad plight, however, and out of the goodness of his heart mailed me the last installment. Well, sir, I was in a run down, weakened, nervous condition. The doctors had despaired of ever curing me. But the medicine arrived and I took it in a single dose; it really fixed me up. I now sleep like a baby, almost. Babies don't snore. Another story I had difficulty in obtaining was PALOS OFTHE DOG-STAR PACK. My adventure with this epic ran about as follows: 1. I had four parts and needed one. 2. Mr. A. needs one part, so I swap him that part for the first installment of THE GIRL OF THE GOLDEN ATOM. 3. Mr. B sends me the part of PALOS which I have always wanted. 4. I write to Mr. B. I cry on his shoulder, figuratively speaking, and tell him that I'm still short one part (let's call it part three.). 5. Mr. C, needing part one of PALOS, writes to me offering the last part of DRAFT OF ETERNITY in exchange. Needing this particular item to make Victor Rousseau's novel complete, I accept. 6. Mr. B digs up part three of PALOS and shoots it to me, feeling that my happiness should now be complete. 7. I still haven't got the entire PALOS OF THE DOG-STAR PACK. I had no trouble getting the two other tales in this trilogy, though. I've had at different times no less than five duplicates of MOUTHPIECE OF ZITU and JASON, SON OF JASON. That's the way it goes in this collecting game -- just one heartbreak after another. It tears down a man's morale, let me tell you. But FAMOUS FANTASTIC MYSTERIES has come to me rescue, and it is quite probable that if I wait long enough I shall at long last be able to get the complete PALOS OF THE DOG-STAR PACK. And had I known ten or more years ago that merely by waiting for this magazine to appear on the newsstands, I could eventually obtain THE BLIND SPOT, I would have spared no end of suffering and writer's cramp. Of course, I wouldn't have met all the interesting people with whom I now correspond, nor have known the thrill of possession which comes only to science fiction collectors who, after hunting like the dickens, spot their quarry and make the kill. Among the other trials of the collector there is always that feeling of suspense when the money is in the mails and the order waits delivery. At such times, I invariable get sea-sick. I wash back and forth between waves of wonder and anxiety. "Will he send it?" "Is the guy reliable?" "What if it