How a Magazine Editor Works

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12643, 31 December 1926, Page 12

How a Magazine Editor Works

BY STEPHEN LEACOCK. “VES,” said the editor, leaning ’ back in his chair with my manuscript in his hand, “I am very glad to tell you that we are accepting your story. In fact, we are delighted with it.” I need hardly say that joy broke out on my face. It was my first experience of this kind of thing. Up to then I had never known how it felt to have a real editor, of a real magazine, accept a story and be prepared to pay fieal money for it. “Blit on the other hand,” continued tho editor, “there are certain things, certain small details, which I should wish to change.”. ‘-‘Yes?” I said timidly. “In the first place, I don’t like your title. ‘Dorothy Daeres, or, Only a Clergyman’s Daughter.’ It is too quiet. 1 shall change it to read ‘Dorothea Dasha Way, or, The Quicksands of Society.’ ” “But surely ” I began. “Don’t interrupt me,” said the editor. “In the next place, the story is much too long.” Here lie reached for a large pair of tailor’s scissors that lay on the table. “This story contains nine thousand words. We never care to use more than six thousand. I must therefore- cut some bf it off.” •

own appreciation of your" willingness to” perform the ceremony.: It is Indeed unfortunate - that diplomatic difficulties prevented the arrangement being carried out, and thisjis extremely r'egrbtthblb to us, . -■ .Yours sincerely, : , AV. MASSEY. "Thirdly, tho High Commissioner of New Zealand Ims now asked mo to writ? this preface and lias-thue. permitted me, after all, to 'lay a humblo nosegay of forget-me-nots 1 umin tho ennerh trophy raised by Now Zealand not to victory, but to valo.ur,”

• He : measured" the- 1 story ■. carefully with'’a pibsket tape that lay in: front of him, cut off’tliree‘thousand- words arid handed them back to me, “These words,” he said, ”you-may keep. We make no 'elaiin on them at all. . You are at liberty to make any use of thefia that you like.” V ■• “But 1 plea'se,’-” J- protested,• “you have cut ■ off at the end of tho story: the whole conclusion is gone. The readers can’t possibly tell—■ —” He smiled at me with something approaching kindness. “My dear sir,” he said, “they never get within three .thousand words of the end of a magazinq story. The end is of no, consequence whatever. The beginning, Y admit, may be, but the end I Come! Come 1

“And in any case in our magazine we print the end of each story separately, distributed among the advertisements to break the type. But just at present we have plenty of these on hand.

“You see,” ho continued, for there was something in my manner that perhaps touched 'him, “all that is needed is that the last words printed must have a look of finality. That’s f all. Now, let me see,” and he turned to the place where the story was cut, “ivhat are the last words here: “Dorothy sank into a chair. 'There we must leave her!”' Excellent! What better'end could you wimt? 'She sank into a chair arid Vou leiive her. Nothing more natural.”, . ■ I was again, about to protest, But he stopped ime.: ■ • “I see,” he said, “that.your story as written is laid” Jal-geiy in Spain' in the summer.. I shall ask! you to alter this,-to Switzerland arid, make; it winter rihie ,to allow for the itp'eoking of steam-pines.:, . things as those, however; are . mere, details; wri can easily-iurrango-them.” ' Hfe reached, out- his horid. ~ “Arid how,” lie said, “I wish you a good- Afternoon?”., I plucked up some, courage. ; “Wliat about remuneration ►” I faltered.,--' ■': •' -

The editor waved . .£3ie '• question : gravely aside. “You will, of course, ,Bd duly paid 1 at our Usual rate. You will receive- a check ■ two - years after ■ 'lt wilL cover all your necessary expenses, . including ink, paper,i string, sealing-wax and . other .in .addition which we h6pe to be able to,.make, yod a, compensation' for ypnr, time ,0n a reasonable basis, per hour. Good-Vye.” He. bowed,ipe politely out of the office. Anri a few days lifter I read in his magazine the Advance Notice of my story; It ran like this NEXT MONTH’S NUMBER OF THE MEGALOMANIA MAGAZINE 'WILE CONTAIN A THMrXING STORY, ENTITLED. „ DOROTHEA DASHAWAY; OR ' THE QUICKSANDS OF SOCIETY., . “The author has lately ’leapefd into; immediate recognition as the greatest master of -.the stort stbry in the American World. His style 1 has, a brio, a poispXa, savoiVTfaro, a je. ne sais qubj,' which .stamps all 'Sis work with the cachet of literary superiority. The sum paid for the story pf ‘Dorothea

Dasliaway’ is said to be the largest paid tor a single MS. “Every page palpitates with interest, ahd at the conclusion of this remarkable narrative the. reader lays down the page in utter bewilderment, to turn perhaps to the, almost equally marvellous, illustration- ■ of- Messrs Spiggot and Fawgett’s Home Plumbing Device Exposition which adorns the same number of the great review.” Ever since that experience’ I have known why it is that magazine editors draw such big salaries.