Produced by David Widger
LITERATURE AND LIFE—The Young Contributor
by William Dean Howells
One of the trustiest jokes of the humorous paragrapher is that the editoris in great and constant dread of the young contributor; but neither myexperience nor my observation bears out his theory of the case.
Of course one must not say anything to encourage a young person toabandon an honest industry in the vain hope of early honor and profitfrom literature; but there have been and there will be literary men andwomen always, and these in the beginning have nearly always been young;and I cannot see that there is risk of any serious harm in saying that itis to the young contributor the editor looks for rescue from the oldcontributor, or from his failing force and charm.
The chances, naturally, are against the young contributor, and vastlyagainst him; but if any periodical is to live, and to live long, it is bythe infusion of new blood; and nobody knows this better than the editor,who may seem so unfriendly and uncareful to the young contributor. Thestrange voice, the novel scene, the odor of fresh woods and pastures new,the breath of morning, the dawn of tomorrow—these are what the editor iseager for, if he is fit to be an editor at all; and these are what theyoung contributor alone can give him.
A man does not draw near the sixties without wishing people to believethat he is as young as ever, and he has not written almost as many booksas he has lived years without persuading himself that each new work ofhis has all the surprise of spring; but possibly there are wonted traitsand familiar airs and graces in it which forbid him to persuade others.I do not say these characteristics are not charming; I am very far fromwishing to say that; but I do say and must say that after the fiftiethtime they do not charm for the first time; and this is where theadvantage of the new contributor lies, if he happens to charm at all.
The new contributor who does charm can have little notion how much hecharms his first reader, who is the editor. That functionary may bidehis pleasure in a short, stiff note of acceptance, or he may mask his joyin a check of slender figure; but the contributor may be sure that he hasmissed no merit in his work, and that he has felt, perhaps far more thanthe public will feel, such delight as it can give.
The contributor may take the acceptance as a token that his efforts havenot been neglected, and that his achievements will always be warmlywelcomed; that even his failures will be leniently and reluctantlyrecognized as failures, and that he must persist long in failure beforethe friend he has made will finally forsake him.
I do not wish to paint the situation wholly rose color; the editor willhave his moods, when he will not see so clearly or judge so justly as atother times; when he will seem exacting and fastidious, and will wantthis or that mistaken thing done to the story, or poem, or sketch, whichthe author knows to be simply perfect as it stands; but he is worthbearing with, and he will be constant to the new contributor as long asthere is the least hope of him.
The contributor may be the man or the woman of one story, one poem, onesketch, for there are such; but the editor will wait the evidence ofindefinite failure to this effect. His hope always is that he or she isthe man or the woman of many stories, many poems, many sketches, all asgood as the first.
From my own long experience