A Novel

( Originally Published 1944 )

I dine with princes on a beggar's fare;

SOMEHOW the novel, even the commercial novel, has managed to escape to a substantial extent, at least for the time being, the whoremongering that goes on in the name of literature in this country.

Many of the Best Seller novels are very soundly written by excellent hired hands, who, in some cases, would deserve the respect of posterity (if any posterity may be counted upon).

Usually the strictly commercial cash-and-carry novelist approaches his publisher from a former performance of some sort. That is, he may have written short stories, or a mildly successful play, or articles for magazines. Perhaps he merely wrote an early novel which he fondly considered "literary" and which had some success, but which did not entice his first publisher into a letter requesting another bottle of the mixture as before.

The approach of such a novelist would, today, often be through sample chapters and à synopsis. The novelist might well write to a publisher (or write through his agent to a publisher) suggesting a tricky title and theme. If these interested the publisher he might write back saying something to the general effect of: "I like your title, and your theme. Give me a few sample chapters and a synopsis." The novelist would then write him say five to fifteen thousand words of sample (finished) chapters, and provide him with a twenty-five hundred to five-thousand word synopsis of the main interest in the remaining chapters to come. If the publisher were heartened thereby he would in all likelihood make suggestions touching a more commercial handling of the theme, etc., and these, if agreed to on the part of the author would bring forth an offer by the publisher of advance royalties to finance the author in finishing the book. Also the publisher would likely provide a "deadline," or date when the book should be completed.

It is often supposed by tyro writers, as in the case of such literary soldiers of good fortune, for instance, as H. Allen Smith, that books are written cold, sent off, and accepted by the first publisher that sees them and thus forwarded to the Best Seller lists. Almost always there is another story behind the performance, not generally known. Smith, for instance, spent many years in the newspaper business before he tackled book length prose. He advanced from ordinary re-porter to the writer of humorous character sketches, done from interviews with famous persons. His writing practice, and knowledge of how to cut prose corners, was profound long before he tackled his first novel, and, later, his other book-length material. His success was due to this, not to any accident. Lucky accidents in the field of cash-and-carry writing are few. New writers think they are many because of their lack of knowledge of the background of writers that seem to them new; as in the case of Smith and Smith (Betty and H. Allen). Betty Smith gained her knowledge of writing from years of writing French one-act plays, about which few novel readers ever heard. Incidentally Betty and H. Allen are not related to each other, or to the famous bearded Smith Brothers of Michigan City, Indiana.

Yet despite all this the beginning novelist often gets astounding breaks. That is because the competition in the novel-writing department is less severe than in the short story field, movie field, or play Meld. A bad novel has much better chances of acceptance than a good short story. Everyone thinks short stories are easier to write than. novels; whereas the reverse is, I think, true.

Strangely enough few book publishers or editors will insist upon plot or story strength in even what they hope will be a Best Seller novel. What they do insist upon is integrity of characterization. Integrity of characterization flows out of two things: a tremendous inherent ability on the part of the new novelist to write good characterization, or his slavish following of real characters in descriptions of his "fictive" characters. The novelist who intends to write clearly for money, and for no other reason unless he has evidence to support the thought that he is a genius would do well to stick to real characters. That is, previous to setting down a word of his novel he should study one or two "lead" characters from real life and use them closely as a basis for his fiction characters. (Not so closely, it is to be hoped, as to get into court over it.) Thus contrived a novel without plot or even visible story has a good commercial chance if it has some quality of originality and the writing is not too bad. It is seldom that a really bad novel becomes a huge best seller-but novels that simply stink to the high heavens often attain prodigious sales and call for contract offers from all directions.

It is my considered opinion-taken from many live specimens that the beginning writer's best possible initial venture is a full-length novel. Unless the be-ginning writer is an idiot as complete and abysmal as those strange people who manage ration boards, he will, when he has come to the last chapter of his novel, recognize the fact that the first chapter stinks. That will be because during the course of the writing of the thing he will have picked up a lot of prose trickery which he can then use to good purpose in rewriting the first chapter and most of the rest of the chapters; until, perhaps, happily enough, when he gets to the end of the second version he will recognize the same condition he did in the first instance, and again re-write until at length he will have finished something pretty good. Danger of course lies here for Perfectionists, lest after they have arrived at the Pretty Good stage they go on and on until they begin to twitch and cause attention on the part of their relatives looking toward a straight jacket. It is not possible to tell a young novelist where lies the line of demarcation between good enough writing and perfectionism. A young novelist must have some sense.

The young novelist who approaches the field from. other branches of writing need not, of course, consider these matters too closely. The chances are that his first draft will be good enough, with some minor revision.

Heaven knows it would be almost impossible for even a literary critic to write a novel so bad that he couldn't find a publisher for it by some off chance. Many of the four or five thousand novels published yearly give off a stench to rival that of a person who has smeared himself with Lifejoy Soap, in order to remove a body odor which he only imagined he had in the first place.

Another reason why the novel is the new writer's best first venture is that few novels make any money worthwhile. The percentage of Best Sellers out of the whole ruck of yearly novels is negligible. But the indirect returns on a novel are often heartening. Also, they are the best possible way to learn to write with-out getting caught at it-what I mean by that is that if you start on short stories, by the time you have finished your tenth, or hundredth, you will have learned a little something about writing; but in the meantime you will have sent your awful original stuff off to editors and established in their minds the thought that you were struck upon the head by a falling building in your youth. Whereupon you will have to change your name later, and your address, and start all over again. On the other hand your novel is not likely to get out of the house until you, yourself, have established some small critical faculty. Even at that your insurance against future agony is none too secure. I used to pick up the first or second novels of novelists l know when I saw them around on twenty-five cent tables and give them to their authors as a "favor." This caused some distress and near trauma on the part of all hands.