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Show mo as eminently sensible; but my purpose in referring to it here is j to call attention to certain obser-ations obser-ations which point up the aforementioned afore-mentioned matter of the obstacles obstac-les that beset writers who want t j be original. The counsel given I hose who would write stories for sale is enough to cause a.ny real creative writer to throw up his hands. "Most magazines, "writes Mead, "to win certain sections of the reading rea-ding public by catering to then-illusions, then-illusions, have evolved formulas which tend to place a restricting hand on writers ..." For instance, he says of stories intended for the big popular slick paper mags, "Slick writing simply means that the hard knobs of existence ex-istence are pared off the stury for the purpose of presenting smooth entertainment. There must never be a line which slops your eye, never an idea that could shock the complacency of the reader's mind . . . there is almost always a sun shining over the horizon and every thing happens in good taste". The pulps, or soft paper magazines maga-zines may be worse, but only in degree, not in principle. "In pulp fiction", he writes, "what remains after reality has been pared off ir then planed to angles like a square block. Action is swift and decisive. Characters are motivated by three basic emotions usually Wingovers All The News That's Fit To Print - From The Delta Airport. By Dick Morrison NOTES OF A NONCONFORMER . . Last Saturday and Sunday were writers' days in Salt Lake City, r.nd while I amade no move to crash the Writers' Roundup of the League of Utah Writers, partly because be-cause I was busy cutting alfalfa seed, and partly because I have never been quite sure that I deserved des-erved to be classed as a writer in the real, honest-to-goodness sense, I nevertheless found much enjoyment enjoy-ment in the little editorial headed Welcome, Utah Writers, in Saturday's Satur-day's Tribune. The Trib based some thought provoking observations on a piece by Harold Strauss, in the Saturday Review, to the effect that moral and artistic courage are the greatest great-est problems of writers, and observed ob-served that the most urgent question ques-tion a young writer should ask himself is whether he can afford to be a writer - - not only financially, financ-ially, but emotionally and spiritually spirit-ually as well. Mr. Strauss decried the fact that "we live in an age of conformism. Even opposition now is conformist, that is to say, patterned, organized and stereotyped. We have no one with the gift for mockery, no one with the capacity for Alympian laughter. There are ;no great rebels, re-bels, no mavericks, no iconoclasts. To the contrary, we live in an age of muted voices ..." Well said, and too true. There's not a Mencken abroad in the land of today. No one with the combination com-bination of thick crust and keen intellect needed to face the ridic-1 ule and derision the world heaps upon non-conformers. (Yes, non-confofmers non-confofmers is the word here. Nonconformist Non-conformist refers to those free thinkers of an earlier day who wouldn't knuckle under to the Church of England). Perhaps the reason is that we have to live. Bread and butter come first, ahead of daring originality. origin-ality. For all our vaunted high standard of living, which seems to be nothing but high standard of extravagant waste, few enjoy much real security. The struggle for existence, which becomes more intense as the field of life itself becomes more crowded, takes such a toll of our physical, mental, and nervous resources that it leaves little or no reserve which can be turned into real creative effort. So we conform, and take the line of least, resistance. It's easiest to stay in the rut. And, more's the pity, the depressing de-pressing influences which tend to force us into thed ull mold of conformity are felt not just in writing, but in every field - - in tus'ness, politices, science, and all the arts. Now it has been my hope, since starting the Wingovers column, to eftect continuous improvement; that is ,to write every bigger and better Wingovers. With this in mind, I recently bought a book. Tr is called, "Your Road To Writing Writ-ing Success", and it is published by Daniel S. Mead, a literary agent. ag-ent. Its purpose is to help would-be would-be writers to gain recognition. Much of the advice in it strikes expressed more or less violently: Love, hate and personal vanity. Understated brutality is definitely part o the pulp yard formula, and in mentioning physical char.ac.ter--lsrice, always remember that the hero has broad shoulders and the heroine ample curves in the right places". Of Confessions, Mead says, "In 4000 to 10,000 words, you. the auth or, confess in simple language what happened when you were confronted' by a tempting or trying try-ing situation and through weakness weak-ness slipped from the straight and narrow. Writing should be emotion al, tense and shocking, and always al-ways end with an indication that the sin committed is recognized for what it is and will be corrected' correct-ed' With the publishers imposing rules like those, what can a poor writer do? Write something honest end have it rejected, or swallow his pride and integrity, turn out stereotyped stuff in accord with the best tenets of conformism, and live to eat again? The idea of genius living in garret, unhonored and unsung, and hungry to boot, doesn't appeal to modern people, but it may be the only thing for the wtiter who refuses to compromise compro-mise his principles for money. It all makes me glad I am free to write Wingover. While "Your Road To Writing Success'" is a commendable book, which, no doubt, will prove of value to many an aspiring key pounder, it deals with many problems from which your faithful correspondent is beau ti fully free. Wingovers doesn't fit into any literary cubby-hole any- body ever thought of, there is no I economic problem involved, and the formal rules for writers just don't apply. I bust ahead, step on the toes of sacred cows whenever they get under foot, swing from the sublime to the rediculous and back at whim, inserting, upon occasion, oc-casion, a bit of exquisite humor, and let the chips fall where they may. This, column isn't stereotyped, and can't be. It knows no rules. All the whole wide universe is its field of inquiry. .The problems of other writers don't apply here. In all literature, and I say it in a spirit of mingled pride and humility, hum-ility, there is nothing else quite '.'Lite like Wingovers. Never was, and rever will be. |