Friday, 31 May 2013

Charles Beadle on writing fiction and selling his first novel

Article from Charles Beadle about writing, his first book sale and other thoughts. Charles Beadle wrote stories set in Africa, some of which appeared in Adventure magazine. Some of his work has been collected in The City of Baal, and The Land of Ophir, both published by Off-Trail Press. You can find a very detailed review of The City of Baal here.

Links to books in print:

Contemporary writers and their work

Charles Beadle


[Originally published in The Editor; the journal of information for literary workers, v. 52, Jan.-June 1920]


To recall the conception of the idea of "The Inner Hero" (Romance for November) is difficult. It is one of a series of sailor and fireman stories conceived some years ago, and with the exception of two others abandoned. I think that I may express myself better if I speak generally rather than particularly, for as I have said, I can scarcely recall the genesis and parturition of this story, although it was born actually in New York. Usually I decide upon what class of mankind and in what environment I am going to ponder in search of an idea—too often, I regret to say, influenced by what I imagine will stand a sporting chance of selling: sometimes they sell, sometimes they don't; there are other gorgeous moments when intoxicated by a check—and rarer ones when I don't give a damn whether the Heavens fall or the price of coal goes up—that I defy the gods by writing what I damn well please; they do not sell . . . except, in justice I must admit, with a few exceptions. Well, to continue; having decided upon a character or characters, usually based upon some person I have bumped against—maybe for merely ten minutes—1 seek a natural environment and his probable circumstances, male and female, I set them, as it were upon a stage in my mind. Then when they have become "real" I obtain an illusion that they are and merely sit down and record what they "insist" upon doing. I say "insist" because frequently when I, playing god, choose a nice comfortable and orthodox end for them they refuse to obey me, and as I have sunk into merely the position of re-porter, the result is usually lamentable as far as editors and my bank account is concerned.

This account of writing "The Inner Hero" may not be accounted of much use to would-be writers (there is no inference in the phrase for I am merely a would-be writer; I merely mention the fact because association brings to my mind cheap sneers which have been perpetrated), but if you will permit me to say, said account may teach more than a dozen "How to write short stories" instructions. That is to say that one can write or one cannot and no amount of instructions will teach a man or woman. Again, that is to say that I do not mean anything about divine afflatus. To me as I see it—if you will again permit me to lapse into the "ideal world"— there is a metier for everyone. One man can make chairs perfectly or nearly so; another design bridges and engines; another make money—the least of all! The trouble is that there are so many chairmakers trying to write short stories and many story writers trying to make chairs. Am I a chairmaker or a story writer? Damned if I know! I'm trying to find out. Personally, as I am vain, I think that I could make chairs; but I don't think that the third chair would interest me much.

Well, experiences as a writer: I began when I was 28 or 29. I was stuck in the centre of Morocco, isolated, and finding a library abandoned by—well, no names, no pack drill! —I read to pass the time, novels, and became so bored with them that I swore that if I could not write a better yarn than those in particular I would eat my hat and other clothes! Since then I have been trying to avoid eating my hat, etc. Personally, I don't think that I am called upon to do so. I began a novel there and finished it in London when I returned—broke; and being broke took it into my head that I would be a writer or bust! Every publisher in London turned it down; Public won't stand for it, etc. A friendly critic said to me, "Stick your tongue in your cheek, old man, and write something to please ‘em !“ ¡ did. First publisher to whom it was offered gave special terms. My hoary aunt, I actually made money! Not much, but real money. That book is selling in cheap edition. I sat down again to’ write “something that would please ‘em !“ Then occurred the process to which I have already referred. My “creations” would not obey their god (how very human). They would insist upon making a tragedy of it. After the fourteenth publisher I took to sending it round in couples. Two publishers, young, made an offer simultaneously. I accepted the better offer. My publisher on the day of publication eloped to Morocco with his typist and incidentally the firm’s funds—and a few months afterwards the other fellow was in gaol for embezzlement. Fate “got me going and coming,” as they say!

On further reflection, recalling the process of story making seems more difficult than ever. What I have already said is fundamentally true. I may add that the character, the atmosphere or the “meaning” of the story attracts me. The great thing that I am in capable of understanding is “plot.” Personally, plot does not interest me in the least. it is merely the hobby horse on which to hang the clothes, but I do not feel that I need a hobby horse.

That’s all there is to it. A cinema has need of a plot. Writing has not (I didn’t say literature; I don’t like the word and I am not a literateur. I am a writer. What’s the matter with the word anyway?). The cinema—as it is now—cannot utilize the cadence of words, the nuances, the motivating psychology—except in very primitive form. (Uproar! Good!)

As one editor was kind enough to say to me: We don’t care a damn about atmosphere writing, psychology; we want a plot!


A publisher who played the young girl with the petals, He loves me! He loves me not! business remarked upon the “faulty construction” of a manuscript. “What,” said I. “do you mean by construction ?“ After vague explanations I saw a great light. “A-ah!” I cried, “plot you mean !“ “Oh, well,” said he, “that’s what the lowbrows call it !“

Well, the snow is here and no coal is nigh, but life’s rather ridiculous, isn’t it?

Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Gotham's Sanitation Corps Real Athletes of Nation (not pulp-related)

Once in a while, as I trawl through old newspapers looking for pulp references, I come across articles which are interesting, but not pulp related.

This is one of those. From The Oregonian, April 29, 1941

Friday, 17 May 2013

Monday, 13 May 2013

Store updated

I've updated the store with links to recent releases of interest. You might want to take a look.

Saturday, 11 May 2013

Review: The Adventures of Jehannum Smith by Gordon MacCreagh

The Adventures of Jehannum Smith by Gordon MacCreagh
This is a collection of six stories (including one serial) published by Black Dog Books. The stories were originally written by Gordon MacCreagh for Argosy magazine from 1919-1920. It also has a comprehensive 31 page biography of the author by Tom Roberts, with 10 photos of the author and other illustrations. Tom Roberts makes a very plausible case for MacCreagh as the original Indiana Jones.

“Jehannum” Smith, the hero of these stories, is a white superman (“he wasn’t more than a decent six feet or so by some two and a half wide.”) who proves the supremacy of the white race again and again. His trustworthy Madrasi servant, Poonoswami, keeps him fuelled with ginger biscuits and whisky.

The stories are:

“Jehnannum” Smith – The first adventure has Smith being persuaded to free a temple dancing girl from the temple so that she can be exhibited in the States. He gets into the temple, fights the priests, confronts a holy ape and escapes with the dancing girl, leaving a trail of destruction behind.

Durga the Unapproachable – This story is set in Calcutta during the season of Durga Puja. Smith takes a bet to steal an idol of the goddess Durga.

Worshippers of Boondi – Smith goes up against a cult of devil worshippers who practise human sacrifice. The cult has kidnapped a white child, the son of the district police superintendent, who does not get along with Smith.

Tact and some Diplomacy – Smith is requested to get a timber concession from a rajah of Bengal. Smith, with his usual “tact and diplomacy”,  persuades the rajah to give the British the concession.

Naked men of Naga – Smith runs up against romance in the jungle while defending an American scientist and his daughter from a tribe of Nagas, who have been hired by a spy in the service of the Japanese to prevent the scientist from breaking their camphor monopoly.

These yarns have plenty of local colour, humor and well written action that seem to be made for the movies. If you're a fan of pulp action, you should definitely check this out. To purchase, click here.


Wednesday, 8 May 2013

Map of Adventure

I spent some time putting Adventure's series characters on a map so that you could pick an adventure of an area you choose, and I think I did a reasonable job of it. If you have additional characters I could include, drop a line in the comments section.


New photo and some information about Hapsburg Liebe

Just came across a blog article on Hapsburg Liebe, with a new photo and some information about how many pulp stories he wrote.

Read the article here.