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Letters of Henry S. Whitehead, 1942
Page 8
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27, West 44th St., N.Y. October 22, 1926 Dear Mr. Price:--- Thanks you very much for your letter of the tenth. Mrs. Black had given me no particularized information about the magazine, and I supposed it might be of the "adventure" type, which, somehow, I associated with you. I am really grateful to you for pointing out to Wright -- and so to the Eyrie fans -- that I've been getting a kind of hollow deal there. Not that anyone above Menken's Moron-level cares a damn about the fans, but it is a kind of loss just the same to get omitted so constantly. My close friends know that my "Hard Luck", however, is utterly proverbial. I am one of the few living persons who NEVER gets a break. Everything I've touched as far back as my memory carries me, has resulted in my getting it in the neck, however it may have worked to the advantage of other people, so I'm used to that. If old J.K.Bangs hadn't preempted that field, I'd turn-to and turn out and volume or two on the subject and never once have to go outside the old Experience-stuff. With J.K.B. on deck, I'm even gypped out of that satisfaction and a possible opportunity to cash in on same. However, I've never, so far, had to go hungry, so that's pretty good, considering. And it's given me a mighty fine line on the outlaw-mind that busts loose and says: "I won't stand it!" E.g., a few weeks ago a Chicago magazine was returned to me a set of six stories in sequence for minor revisions -- I had the front cover copped out for the leader, and all set to go -- and they never arrived -- the first and practically the only bunch of stuff I've sent out in twenty-one years WITHOUT CARBONS. There's a dead loss of five or six weeks' intensive work, and some seven hundred of the best. That is entirely typical, utterly. I expect that kind of break, and almost always provide all the necessary alibis, but that time the heeby-jeebies got me. I omitted those carbons because the thing was an order and I figured I could sell the stuff in England from the magazine copies WITH that front cover, etc., to better advantage. It's queer how a person can be a pleasant kind of guy even over this hard-luck stuff, isn't it? I can euchre it sometimes, though, but it's a nuisance. It involves registering letters and insuring things, etc., which the general run doesn't have to bother with. I suppose it's a kind of distinction, too, so I ought to be satisfied. Things like my worst enemy in a place like N.Y. with several million telephones, getting crossed on a wire where I'm putting through a deal by sheer adverse chance, have even happened to me. It's great! Well, I'm sorry the Illustrated Features went the way of Padre Iom. Glad, though, you didn't get pinched in that debacle, and hopes for a better break next time. It's interesting to get the line on Wright. I never saw him, but he's an industrious lad on writing letters. He's had some of my stuff embalmed for nearly two years, but recently promised to bring some of it to the attention of the Eyrie gang, so there'll be eats at some remote future time therefrom, I'm hoping. He's accepted (or uses from inheritance) a dreadful lot of muck in W.T., but some of it is o.k. -- yours, and well, I'm in agreement with what you put in The Eyrie. Best, sincerely, Henry S. Whitehead
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27, West 44th St., N.Y. October 22, 1926 Dear Mr. Price:--- Thanks you very much for your letter of the tenth. Mrs. Black had given me no particularized information about the magazine, and I supposed it might be of the "adventure" type, which, somehow, I associated with you. I am really grateful to you for pointing out to Wright -- and so to the Eyrie fans -- that I've been getting a kind of hollow deal there. Not that anyone above Menken's Moron-level cares a damn about the fans, but it is a kind of loss just the same to get omitted so constantly. My close friends know that my "Hard Luck", however, is utterly proverbial. I am one of the few living persons who NEVER gets a break. Everything I've touched as far back as my memory carries me, has resulted in my getting it in the neck, however it may have worked to the advantage of other people, so I'm used to that. If old J.K.Bangs hadn't preempted that field, I'd turn-to and turn out and volume or two on the subject and never once have to go outside the old Experience-stuff. With J.K.B. on deck, I'm even gypped out of that satisfaction and a possible opportunity to cash in on same. However, I've never, so far, had to go hungry, so that's pretty good, considering. And it's given me a mighty fine line on the outlaw-mind that busts loose and says: "I won't stand it!" E.g., a few weeks ago a Chicago magazine was returned to me a set of six stories in sequence for minor revisions -- I had the front cover copped out for the leader, and all set to go -- and they never arrived -- the first and practically the only bunch of stuff I've sent out in twenty-one years WITHOUT CARBONS. There's a dead loss of five or six weeks' intensive work, and some seven hundred of the best. That is entirely typical, utterly. I expect that kind of break, and almost always provide all the necessary alibis, but that time the heeby-jeebies got me. I omitted those carbons because the thing was an order and I figured I could sell the stuff in England from the magazine copies WITH that front cover, etc., to better advantage. It's queer how a person can be a pleasant kind of guy even over this hard-luck stuff, isn't it? I can euchre it sometimes, though, but it's a nuisance. It involves registering letters and insuring things, etc., which the general run doesn't have to bother with. I suppose it's a kind of distinction, too, so I ought to be satisfied. Things like my worst enemy in a place like N.Y. with several million telephones, getting crossed on a wire where I'm putting through a deal by sheer adverse chance, have even happened to me. It's great! Well, I'm sorry the Illustrated Features went the way of Padre Iom. Glad, though, you didn't get pinched in that debacle, and hopes for a better break next time. It's interesting to get the line on Wright. I never saw him, but he's an industrious lad on writing letters. He's had some of my stuff embalmed for nearly two years, but recently promised to bring some of it to the attention of the Eyrie gang, so there'll be eats at some remote future time therefrom, I'm hoping. He's accepted (or uses from inheritance) a dreadful lot of muck in W.T., but some of it is o.k. -- yours, and well, I'm in agreement with what you put in The Eyrie. Best, sincerely, Henry S. Whitehead
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