I intend to lace it with illustrative true anecdotes, changing names and dates and places only when necessary to avoid being sued-and will say so. It will have many a chuckle in it, plus a few belly laughs. I know I can do, it. This will be a timeless book and should make money for many years. It just might be a smash hit, like Helen Gurley’s Sex and the Single Girl-as everyone wants to know how to make money with least effort and almost as many have at least a secret hope of seeing their names in print as ‘ ‘Authors’ ‘ — much like the great curiosity that most respectable women have about prostitution…and a secret wonder as to whether or not they could have made the grade in the Oldest Profession-only of course they never actually would, perish the thought! Almost as many feel that way about the Second Oldest Profession, the Teller of Tales^I know, from endless direct experience, that a person who actually writes for a living…and clearly does well financially at it…is an object of curiosity to many-an exotic creature, not quite respectable, but very interesting. I’m buttonholed about it every time I appear in public-which used to be fun but has grown to be a nuisance. So I might as well turn this nuisance into cash.
EDITOR ‘s NOTE: None of the three books outlined here were ever written; some notes were collected, but nothing ever went on paper.
Lurton telephoned one day, saying that Robert had been asked to give one of the Forrestal Lectures at the Naval Academy. Normally, Lurton would have regretted the invitation, but this was from Robert’s alma mater. So it was accepted, and many months went into preparation for the talk.
Then along came a request from the Britannica editors for
Robert to do an article on Paul Dirac and antimatter for the Compton Yearbook. Robert viewed that as an opportunity to review the entire field of modern physics, and sciences in general. So, doing that article took one year. And it was followed by a request for another article on blood-another year consumed in the study of biological sciences, with one article to show for that year’s work.
Then came the invitation to be Guest of Honor at MidAmeriCon, which took up most of the year of 1976, what with all the arrangements to be made.
The year 1977 was passed in getting blood drives going among science fiction fans-and I must heartily recommend them for their cooperation in this project. Donors still send me copies of their ten-gallon certificates…
Thus did time pass, and those books Robert was so hot to do were never written.
Robert never did tell me just what the crisis with Japan was, when his ship steamed full speed toward the Orient.
SLUMP
March 31, 1959: Robert A. Heiniein to Lurton Blassingame
If the market is in this bad shape, I had better do one of two things; either quit writing for the pulp SF magazines and concentrate on television and possible slick sales, or simply retire and do what I want to do with my time. I could retire very easily now, and Ginny and I could live very comfortably, simply by dispensing with foreign travel, emeralds, and similar unnecessary luxuries-and I certainly do not fancy knocking myself out, breeding insomnia, etc., for the privilege of receiving word rates that are actually less, after taxes, than those I got twenty years ago-and are effectively less than half that when I spend the money. It doesn’t make sense.
July 28, 1959: Robert A. Heiniein to Lurton Blassingame
I am returning your clipping about the sad state of fiction. It is enough to drive a man back to engineering. However, I have always worked on the theory that there is always a market somewhere for a good story-a notion that Will Jenkins [the real name of science-fiction writer Murray Leinster] pounded into my head many years ago. When I started writing there were lots of pulp magazines, many slick fiction magazines-no pocketbooks and no television. I think I’ll just go on writing stories that I would like to read and assume that they can be sold somewhere to some medium.