Did you ever meet Milt Machlin at the Lion's Head? He was editor of one of the men's adventure pulps. I remember reading his magazine in my younger days, and pictured him as tall, thick haired, and ripped. In fact, he was short, bald, and pudgy. He was also a delightful drinking companion. Just as I gave my dad a copy of Army Blue that you autographed for him at the bar of the Lion's Head, I gave dad Milt's book, The Search for Joshua's Altar, about an archaeological adventure in Israel, that Milt autographed. About a year after that, Milt died.
You also made me think of Florence King's autobiography, Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady, in which she told of earning pin money while a grad student at Ole Miss by writing fiction for True Confessions. Her first published piece was "I Committed Adultery in a Diabetic Coma."
My own attempt at re-writing ended badly. During my pre-midlife crisis I withdrew temporarily from full time law practice and, with help from the GI Bill and indulgent parents, went back to school at NYU to study economics. I saw an ad on a bulletin board for part time work on an economics text, and was hired. The text was a trot designed to prepare first year econ students for their finals. I, along with other near-minimum wage slaves, were tasked with taking chapters from standard econ texts and coming up with likely exam questions and answers. My first assignment was to go over the work of someone who had left the job. I found that what he had done was to take the questions at the ends of the textbook chapters, re-write them in fractured English, and do the same with the answers given in teachers' guides. I had to start from scratch. After a couple of weeks, the publisher called me to his desk and said my production rate was unsatisfactory, and asked why. I explained that the stuff I had been asked to clean up was plagiarized. He said, I swear, "Plagiarism, hah! I don't care about that." I resisted saying "Good luck to you," but he didn't resist firing me.
A year later I saw the book I'd worked on in a store. All my original stuff was in it.
This is delightful. My dad was an “as told to” writer, or ghost writer, in the ‘50s. Was set to write Astaire’s autobiography with him, when Fred decided it wanted to do it all by himself because he didn’t want to talk about difficult emotional subjects. . My dad did write the title, “Steps in Time.”
Even at that young age, you knew your audience and you knew what the craft of storytelling was about. What a fun read. Always love hearing stories of what a man and a typewriter can do!
Ummm, I'm glad you were able to support yourself in those early days, but for me this article reads like a "how to" for creating an American public that can't get any delight and satisfaction from living. I'm sorry to say that what you and Mel were doing is, as I see it, only a short hop to the further grooming of Trump-ready acolytes unable to distinguish between fantasy and reality. Considering how tonic and piercingly insightful your Salon articles are, your career seems to careen wildly between feeding and taming the beast.
Wow! So 50 years ago,,when I was 23 or 24, I was already "grooming" Trump voters who weren't even born yet by providing entertainment to potential Trump voters most of whom were deadly 2016. That's what you're suggesting if you consider the age demographic of the Truw reader in 1971-72, quite similar to the Fox viewer of today- men in their 50s and 60s. Take another sip of coffee and come up with some other reason to be unhappy about my article, because this one is flat-out wrong-headed and absurd.
So, you're being a little literal. Or a lot. Your transformation of truly interesting experiences into hyped up fantasy isn't responsible for Trump supporters today. They are a small part of an entire culture industry dedicated to creating America as a parallel experience to living. Have a warm milk with a spoon of honey, and calm down. And anyway, then, why did you like my comment?
Great story! I too was a cork borne upon the waves and never had a plan but amazing things happened in my life. In your case, talent and grit and luck!
Did you ever meet Milt Machlin at the Lion's Head? He was editor of one of the men's adventure pulps. I remember reading his magazine in my younger days, and pictured him as tall, thick haired, and ripped. In fact, he was short, bald, and pudgy. He was also a delightful drinking companion. Just as I gave my dad a copy of Army Blue that you autographed for him at the bar of the Lion's Head, I gave dad Milt's book, The Search for Joshua's Altar, about an archaeological adventure in Israel, that Milt autographed. About a year after that, Milt died.
You also made me think of Florence King's autobiography, Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady, in which she told of earning pin money while a grad student at Ole Miss by writing fiction for True Confessions. Her first published piece was "I Committed Adultery in a Diabetic Coma."
Claude, hilarious story about Florence. I remember her and Milt both of course. Those were the days, my friend. They certainly were.
My own attempt at re-writing ended badly. During my pre-midlife crisis I withdrew temporarily from full time law practice and, with help from the GI Bill and indulgent parents, went back to school at NYU to study economics. I saw an ad on a bulletin board for part time work on an economics text, and was hired. The text was a trot designed to prepare first year econ students for their finals. I, along with other near-minimum wage slaves, were tasked with taking chapters from standard econ texts and coming up with likely exam questions and answers. My first assignment was to go over the work of someone who had left the job. I found that what he had done was to take the questions at the ends of the textbook chapters, re-write them in fractured English, and do the same with the answers given in teachers' guides. I had to start from scratch. After a couple of weeks, the publisher called me to his desk and said my production rate was unsatisfactory, and asked why. I explained that the stuff I had been asked to clean up was plagiarized. He said, I swear, "Plagiarism, hah! I don't care about that." I resisted saying "Good luck to you," but he didn't resist firing me.
A year later I saw the book I'd worked on in a store. All my original stuff was in it.
Sounds about right. The way the world works, huh?
Bravo! View every assignment as an opportunity, have fun, give it your best, and write what will thrill your reader. 💜
This is delightful. My dad was an “as told to” writer, or ghost writer, in the ‘50s. Was set to write Astaire’s autobiography with him, when Fred decided it wanted to do it all by himself because he didn’t want to talk about difficult emotional subjects. . My dad did write the title, “Steps in Time.”
You’re Batman LT!
Great piece, lots of fun to read. Never knew about the pulps, but I remember the barge and the loft!
Pretty soon, you’ll have an autobiography 😜‼️
I have enough for a good chunk of one right now, but I haven't gotten any interest from any publishers yet. I guess we'll see.
Persistence is all 😜
Incredible!
Even at that young age, you knew your audience and you knew what the craft of storytelling was about. What a fun read. Always love hearing stories of what a man and a typewriter can do!
Ummm, I'm glad you were able to support yourself in those early days, but for me this article reads like a "how to" for creating an American public that can't get any delight and satisfaction from living. I'm sorry to say that what you and Mel were doing is, as I see it, only a short hop to the further grooming of Trump-ready acolytes unable to distinguish between fantasy and reality. Considering how tonic and piercingly insightful your Salon articles are, your career seems to careen wildly between feeding and taming the beast.
Wow! So 50 years ago,,when I was 23 or 24, I was already "grooming" Trump voters who weren't even born yet by providing entertainment to potential Trump voters most of whom were deadly 2016. That's what you're suggesting if you consider the age demographic of the Truw reader in 1971-72, quite similar to the Fox viewer of today- men in their 50s and 60s. Take another sip of coffee and come up with some other reason to be unhappy about my article, because this one is flat-out wrong-headed and absurd.
So, you're being a little literal. Or a lot. Your transformation of truly interesting experiences into hyped up fantasy isn't responsible for Trump supporters today. They are a small part of an entire culture industry dedicated to creating America as a parallel experience to living. Have a warm milk with a spoon of honey, and calm down. And anyway, then, why did you like my comment?
Oh, I like anybody who takes the time to read and comment.
Why put the Dr. in parentheses? And how do you know how truly interesting the experiences were? They were deemed boring until Lucian transformed them.
What is a parallel experience to living anyway?
Although I have no idea what you are saying. I wrote the story to inform and amuse people. Obviously, you are rather difficult to amuse.
Great story! I too was a cork borne upon the waves and never had a plan but amazing things happened in my life. In your case, talent and grit and luck!
Tortured manhood...Donald J. Trump?
adventurous