The Reminiscences of a Contributor

THE CONTRIBUTORS’ CLUB.

I HAVE read with interest the experienees of some of your contributors. I venture to give those of another. In the early days of my efforts to reform the world, when I was a somewhat callow youth, I had sent a few articles to leading newspapers. I felt very much gratified and elated when I read them in cold type. The idea that any editor would pay for them had never entered my head. One day I was taking lunch with one of my friends of the newspaper press who got his living by his work, and he asked me how much I charged by the column. “ Charge! ” said I, “ you don’t suppose I expect to be paid, do you ? I am only a duffer at this sort of thing, and am only too glad to see my articles in print.” “ But,” said my friend, “ that’s not fair. A man who can write as you do has no business to take our bread from us by serving as a space writer without pay.” I did not then know exactly what he meant by “ space writer,” but I said nothing.

There was a question pending in which I felt a great interest, and when I got home I said to myself, “ By Jove ! I will write an article for The Atlantic Monthly, and try it on.” I will confess that I devoted a whole rainy Sunday to this work of necessity and charity. The words ran off the end of my pen without any conscious effort on my part, and as I had never studied English grammar, and always use the shortest words I can find, when I read my article over I thought it was clear and strong, and that every-day business folks who do not care much for philosophic dissertations might get some ideas from it. I had a fair copy made by one of my clerks, and I sent it to the editor. The article was accepted promptly, put in type, and duly appeared. I have forgotten what it was about. When in December I received a check for one hundred dollars I confess that I was astounded! I looked at the check, — I laid it down, — I took it up again and said to myself, “ I never earned this money. My double, of whom I have always had an inner consciousness, did this. What would he do with the money ? ” My double then put an idea into my head that Christmas was coming. I invested the cash in presents for the children and others, to their great delight. But after that I charged for space writing in the newspapers, and put the money mostly into books.

Sequel : The next Christmas was near, and my little girl of about six said, “ What are you going to give us for presents this year, papa ? ” To which I replied, “ Not much ; I can’t spare the money this year.” To this the enfant terrible responded, “ Why don’t you write another article for the Atlantic ? Anybody can do that! ” Presently I received an invitation to dine with the contributors, and when called upon to make a few remarks I began to tell this little story. I had been accustomed to cause some hilarity at dinners of my business friends. You may imagine the shock to my mind when the remark that the hundred dollars did n’t seem to belong to me was met by a shout of obloquy and derision. I recovered, and presently I repeated the remark of my little girl, “ Anybody can do that! ” Then came a turmoil! I was threatened with bottles, pie plates, and other missiles, but the stern Chairman read the Riot Act, and I escaped without personal injury.

I once knew a little about editors and publishers. I know them a good deal better now. My relations with them have been uniformly pleasant and profitable. When I send out some good copy which one refuses I am very sure that another will take it, and I am rarely mistaken. Having had about forty years’ experience of a desultory kind, I have been inclined to turn editor myself as a recreation for old age.

My advice to young contributors who want to instruct their fellows would be :

1. Be sure that you know enough to get your own living by hard work before you begin to write.

2. If you feel an impulse to instruct your fellows, be sure that you know your subject so well that you can make it clear to them.

3. Use the shortest words, but don’t try to be literary or make any attempt at style. The subject makes the style if you know it. Set up one William Shakespeare as your model. Omitting proper names and geographical expressions, he averages only four letters to a word, and is unique among writers in using more words of four letters each than of three.