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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 3, August 1941
Page 5
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Mumblings SOUTHERN START Page 5 mirage in question was the exact sex of that critter, Thompson. All I know of Thompson at that time were his initials, DB. Nevertheless Earl seemed to think I should know all about everything, particularly as to whether Thompson wore skirts or trousers. The flattery was nice, but I couldn't measure up to it. I don't believe I had exchanged more than one or two letters with the Nebraska Nibs. However I promised Earl I would soon be hot on the trail of the mystery because the matter interested me, too; imagine a femme hiding her fan talents under a cloak of secrecy! What a scoop it would be for me, if I could but expose him/her. I looked into the letter. I must admit I was practically convinced; some of Thompson's neat phrasing possessed an almost girlish twist; his syntax even suggested it. After debating the matter pro and con for several days, as to just what would be the best, yet decent method for finding out, I threw caution to the winds and addressed a letter to him, which, if I remember right, was headed "Dear Donna Belle". I asked him point-blank his sex and he didn't even threaten a libel suit. To our collective regret, I think, Thompson turned out to be a he So, proper apologies, Don, you had us worried for a while. Usually we are not statistical minded; long rows of figures on how many peasants eat black bread, and how many bloated capitalists own diamond stick-pins leave us cold, except that sometimes we speculate on what a peasant would do if he found a diamond stick pin in his bread some morning. Or how a capitalist would behave should he suddenly find crumbs of black bread on his tie instead of a pin. But statistics on fans, any kind of figures on any kind of fan, especially those on feminine fans, never fail to excite our attention. This is due in part to our profound belief that as,fans, we revolve more about ourselves and our fan body, than we do about the pro mags. Thus it was that we swam with great glee through the Widner article in the April Spaaceways, commenting upon the monstrous files Pop Swisher keeps on fan activity. Widner notes that Swisher has some five thousand names on tap, including everyone from "the most obscure individual who ever had a letter published in a pro-mag and was never heard from again", right up to the Number One Face himself. . Swisher, as you may or may not know, depending on your knowledge of FAPA matters, publishes a very valuable fanzine called Check-List. Check-List (hectographed) lists in alphabetical order all the fanzines fandom ever concocted, including titles that were stillborn, and those that died a thousand deaths before they left the would-be editor's typewriter. I suspect he even lists titles that exist only in some fan's imaginations. Hundreds of them, past, present, and future. It is our opinion one of the greatest crimes existing in fandom today is the unavailability of Check-List in mimeograph form; it should be spread the length and breadth of fandom. And now, likewise, this checklist of five thousand fans. Who wants the job of publishing these names, of creating the blue book of fandom? (Altho 'blue book' hardly fits the situation in the sense used by the outside world. Imagine the job of skimming the cream of those five thousand curdled quarts of milk!@) We have done a bit of figuring, so here is the way you, ambitious one, can make a mint of money: Allowing two lines per name, incIuding of course address and data on the person, such as a brief note dating and placing his first and last letters (in the event he is no longer fanning), it would require perhaps 160 pages to cover the five thousand, or slightly more. Breaking this down to forty pages per issue, a quartarly publication, in
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Mumblings SOUTHERN START Page 5 mirage in question was the exact sex of that critter, Thompson. All I know of Thompson at that time were his initials, DB. Nevertheless Earl seemed to think I should know all about everything, particularly as to whether Thompson wore skirts or trousers. The flattery was nice, but I couldn't measure up to it. I don't believe I had exchanged more than one or two letters with the Nebraska Nibs. However I promised Earl I would soon be hot on the trail of the mystery because the matter interested me, too; imagine a femme hiding her fan talents under a cloak of secrecy! What a scoop it would be for me, if I could but expose him/her. I looked into the letter. I must admit I was practically convinced; some of Thompson's neat phrasing possessed an almost girlish twist; his syntax even suggested it. After debating the matter pro and con for several days, as to just what would be the best, yet decent method for finding out, I threw caution to the winds and addressed a letter to him, which, if I remember right, was headed "Dear Donna Belle". I asked him point-blank his sex and he didn't even threaten a libel suit. To our collective regret, I think, Thompson turned out to be a he So, proper apologies, Don, you had us worried for a while. Usually we are not statistical minded; long rows of figures on how many peasants eat black bread, and how many bloated capitalists own diamond stick-pins leave us cold, except that sometimes we speculate on what a peasant would do if he found a diamond stick pin in his bread some morning. Or how a capitalist would behave should he suddenly find crumbs of black bread on his tie instead of a pin. But statistics on fans, any kind of figures on any kind of fan, especially those on feminine fans, never fail to excite our attention. This is due in part to our profound belief that as,fans, we revolve more about ourselves and our fan body, than we do about the pro mags. Thus it was that we swam with great glee through the Widner article in the April Spaaceways, commenting upon the monstrous files Pop Swisher keeps on fan activity. Widner notes that Swisher has some five thousand names on tap, including everyone from "the most obscure individual who ever had a letter published in a pro-mag and was never heard from again", right up to the Number One Face himself. . Swisher, as you may or may not know, depending on your knowledge of FAPA matters, publishes a very valuable fanzine called Check-List. Check-List (hectographed) lists in alphabetical order all the fanzines fandom ever concocted, including titles that were stillborn, and those that died a thousand deaths before they left the would-be editor's typewriter. I suspect he even lists titles that exist only in some fan's imaginations. Hundreds of them, past, present, and future. It is our opinion one of the greatest crimes existing in fandom today is the unavailability of Check-List in mimeograph form; it should be spread the length and breadth of fandom. And now, likewise, this checklist of five thousand fans. Who wants the job of publishing these names, of creating the blue book of fandom? (Altho 'blue book' hardly fits the situation in the sense used by the outside world. Imagine the job of skimming the cream of those five thousand curdled quarts of milk!@) We have done a bit of figuring, so here is the way you, ambitious one, can make a mint of money: Allowing two lines per name, incIuding of course address and data on the person, such as a brief note dating and placing his first and last letters (in the event he is no longer fanning), it would require perhaps 160 pages to cover the five thousand, or slightly more. Breaking this down to forty pages per issue, a quartarly publication, in
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