But I’m going to tell him no again, (a) I don’t like to see my stories chopped up, in any case; each is meant to be read as a whole, (b) I have a dirty suspicion that he wants my name on the dust jacket at a cost of about ten bucks, (c) The controlling point: I don’t like his action in bypassing my agent. If he wanted a rehearing he should have submitted his second proposal to you-he certainly knows who you are and where you are.
Damn it, on second thought I am not going to answer him now; I’ll enclose his letter instead. If you want to answer it, do so. If not, send it back and I will do so. But I certainly do not like his unprofessional behavior in intentionally trying to bypass my agent.
INTRODUCTION
January 14, 1963: Robert A. Heinlein to Robert Mills
Lurton tells me that you and he have reached an agreement on the use of “Zombies” [“All You Zombies”] and that you now want an introduction to the story from me, telling why it is “one of my favorites.”
At that point it suddenly lost status with me. The prospect of writing a blurb for one of my own stories I find almost as filled with grue as is attending an autographing party or writing for a fanzine. Why don’t you write it? You seemed to like this story better than I did and your blurb in FSF [The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction] was okay.
But, if you must have it, how about this: “Mark Twain invented the time travel story; six years later H.G. Wells perfected it and revealed its paradoxes. Between them they left little for latecomers to do. But they are still fun to write. Some stories are chores, some are fun-this is one I enjoyed writing.”
But I would still prefer for you to blurb it. If an author writes his own blurb, he is caught between the horns of conceit and false modesty.
FREE OPTION
January 27, 1961: Robert A. Heintein to Lurton Blassingame
My whorish instincts protest the idea of a free option even for six months-but I’m willing to go along, pursuant to your advice. He [a would-be producer] would be a lot better off (safer) and I would be happier if there were some minor cash involved, with the deal spelled out. The option money needn’t be much and it could have renewable dates by small payments. However, I suspect that he does not want to sign a formal option now because that necessitates spelling out the deal which is being optioned-and he probably hasn’t any clear idea what the deal might be until he has a treatment to show financial backers.
CHAPTER VII
*
BUILDING
COLORADO SPRINGS
EDITOR’S NOTE: When Robert and I were first married, we lived in Colorado Springs. After the motion picture script sold, it was necessary to move to Hollywood, as Robert was to be technical director for what became Destination Moon.
After the shooting on the film was completed, Robert’s contract was up, so we returned to Colorado to build our house there. While we were building, the Korean War began-although it was called a “police action, ” it was a full-fledged war; the draft was still in place, and prices on everything began to soar. Robert might be called back to do engineering, and although I was on inactive duty, there was the ever-present possibility that I might be called back to active duty. Neither of those things happened, but we went through a period of not knowing whether we would have to leave our house half-built and go off to war.
In one of these letters there is mention of the quickly rising costs of lumber; Camp Carson nearby Colorado Springs had been renamed Fort Carson, and an enormous building program had begun there. We were caught by the rising prices on everything needed to complete the house.
Before Robert began writing, he had some interest in planning single-family houses. He had several plans of his own. However, those were for a flat area, and the lot we purchased was on a hillside. Neither one of us was prepared, though, for the intricacies of the actual building of a house.