Another Use For Rejection Letters

We've all heard stories about writers who've received enough rejection letters from publishing houses to paper a wall. Well, there's a better use for these carriers of bad news.

A useful suggestion was found in an article by a very prolific writer named George Haddad-Garcia. He wrote an article for Writer's Digest (July 1982) that listed thirty cost-cutting ideas for writers. The one I especially liked was number ten: "Scratch pads are often free at hotels and motels; don't overlook these, either. The backs of rejection letters can be used for scratch, jotting down ideas, notes, phone numbers, or for rough drafts."

So those annoying rejection letters not only can make you more determined to succeed as a writer, they can be turned over to the blank side and used to help you create the next award-winning novel or short story collection (you hope).

Revisions, Revisions, And More Revisions

The science fiction writer Connie Willis, a recipient of several Nebula Awards and Hugo Awards, was asked by a reader on the website Science Fiction Weekly (June 16, 2005) about her writing process. Her response:

"I rewrite everything, long or short, over and over. And it's not a question of a rough draft. It's many, many notes and drafts and cross-outs and retries. When I was done with Doomsday Book [1992], I had three loose-leaf notebooks full of research and two 8 x 12 inch boxes full of rough drafts. I have never written anything in one draft, not even a grocery list, although I have heard from friends that this is actually possible."

A House Plant With Literary Roots

I recently found in a manila file folder a copy of an e-mail my late friend, the poet Velma Reeb, sent to me in August 2007.

"How is Little Philly?" she asked. Little Philly is the name she gave to a philodendron cutting she took from the house plant she called Big Philly. "The original Big Philly was my friend Alma Stone's plant," she wrote. I'm assuming that Velma's Big Philly was at one time a cutting from Stone's plant.

After giving me instructions on how often to water Little Philly--"Water weekly only; spritz with water mid-week or every few days"-- she described who Alma Stone was. She was "a fiction writer ("The Harvard Tree" and "The Bible Seller")" who "wrote up into her 80's, and died a few years ago in her 90's! In fact, her work can be found on the public library shelves. She won a national award for one short story." The award Stone won, according to Velma, was the O. Henry Award.

These literary works as well as her other papers are housed at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas, Austin. The location of her papers is fitting because she was a native Texan, born in the east Texas town of Jasper in 1909.

P.S. Fifteen years later, I still have Little Philly. I placed it in my bathroom window, where it receives a lot of moisture and sunlight.

The Forgotten Black World War II Veterans

I had four uncles who were World War II vets. Three served in the army, one in the navy. They served at a time when the American military was racially segregated. (A group photo of Uncle John and his shipmates attests to that.)

One of my biggest regrets is that I neglected to interview my uncles about their wartime service when I had the chance. I remember the four of them sitting in Aunt Vickie and Uncle Lyn's living room on 148th Street in Harlem trading war memories. This would have been sometime in the mid-1970s, when I would have been in my twenties. I heard them talking but I showed no interest in what they were sharing. I didn't realize that what I was hearing was important family history. History that should have been recorded on paper and/or tape so the information could be passed down to future generations.

Now I have to hope to find documents like letters and telegrams among family papers that addressed those war years as well as family mementoes from that time. (Aunt Louise, for instance, saved Uncle John's navy uniform including his dark blue sailor's cap. I found these items at the bottom of an old steamer trunk in her bedroom.)

The New York Times, in its October 6, 2022 issue, ran a review of a book called Half American: The Epic Story of African Americans Fighting World War II at Home and Abroad (Viking). The author is Matthew F. Delmont, a Dartmouth University historian.

I'm eager to read it, all 374 pages. This sorely needed book highlights the lives and accomplishments of those, one black World War II vet, himself included, described as "a forgotten group of people" relegated to the status of half Americans. I hope this book will be a step toward recognizing their role in preserving democracy in America.

A Cup Of Coffee And A Good Book

Tomorrow, October 1st, is International Coffee Day. (September 29th was National Coffee Day.) I can't think of a better way to spend a rainy, gloomy afternoon (tomorrow it's supposed to rain all day here in New York) than to curl up with a good book and a steaming hot cup or two of coffee.

Childhood Reading Habits

The fiction writer Andrea Barrett was asked in the New York Times Book Review's "By the Book" column (September 18, 2022) about her childhood reading habits. Ms. Barrett, the author of a story collection called Natural History, replied, "Greedy! Also indiscriminate, and drawn to books supposedly for grown-ups. Luckily the kind librarian at the local Bookmobile let us take any books we could reach (I was ridiculously tall)."

That statement reminded me of my own reading habits as a child. I spent more time in the adult section of my local library in Los Angeles than I did in the children's section. And when I checked books out from that section (mostly mystery and detective novels), the librarian (and my mother) didn't say to me that those books were not age appropriate, as would probably happen today.

A Child's View Of Prejudice

The New York Times Book Review recently commemorated the 75th anniversary of the publication of Laura Z. Hobson's Gentleman's Agreement, a bestselling novel about anti-Semitism.

Tina Jordan ("Inside the List," August 28, 2022) reported that Hobson (1900-1986) told the Book Review back then in 1947 that when she was completing work on her novel, she asked her 9-year-old son, "What's prejudice, Mike?" His answer is probably the best definition I've read, putting this social problem in a nutshell. "Well," he said, "I guess it's when you decide some fellow's a stinker before you ever met him."

I couldn't have said it better.