April 7, 1951: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Just at present any proposed work brings a feeble response. I am in a very rundown condition and have been and may still be on the ragged edge of nervous breakdown. I had purposed spending a couple of months or a bit more supervising the completion of my house, doing some of the work myself as a therapeutic measure, then when finished, taking a look at the war news and making up my mind as to whether I was morally obligated to go at once back into laboratory work rather than continue with writing. Ginny is in reserve; if and when she gets called up, I don’t want to be tangled in contracts I can’t shuck off-I want to be in research that will help to win the war as quickly as possible and thereby bring her home again. (I myself cannot possibly pass the physical exam; laboratory work is all I’m good for.)
March 1, 1953: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
…We are all well again-even the cat, as I finally got the big black tomcat that had been beating him up. Ginny woke me one morning and said that the black torn was out front. I hurried into robe and slippers, loaded my Remington .380 pistol, and went out. Got him with the first shot, fortunately, as he was moving and I wouldn’t have gotten a second. Had him buried and was back in bed in under twenty minutes. A sad task, but Pixie was so crippled up that I don’t think he could have survived another beating-and I prefer my own cat to a feral one.
October 8, 1953: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I tried to keep the letter factual in tone; if undue emotion has crept into it, you may charge it off (this is private to you) to the fact, among others, that — without consulting us, gave us as financial references all around Colorado Springs-and that Ginny was annoyed by telephone calls demanding to know when — was going to settle her bills. And other matters better left unsaid.
December 11, 1964: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
We have a new phone number-UNLISTED-so please write it down here and there. Ginny has wanted this for years to put a stop to fan calls at all hours. I must admit the quiet is welcome.
January 9, 1968: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I am returning Art Clarke’s article as you asked in your note on the face of it. I take it that Spectorsky’s [a Playboy editor] request was made to you this time rather than direct to me. He makes this request of me almost every month; I have long since quit answering these little notes. The first one was several years ago and concerned a short story by Fred Brown-quite a good one and I wrote a nice plug for it, which Spec published.
It was a mistake; I should have ignored it. I’ve been bombarded with similar requests ever since. Quite aside from the time such free work would require, correspondence is the bane of my existence and the major interference with my working time; I’ve no wish to add to it by writing letters to editors. And it is indeed “free work” that Spec wants; he is soliciting unpaid reviews from well-known writers.
But, hell, I might go along with it if that were all there is to it-Playboy is a number one market and it wouldn’t hurt me to grease Spec a bit. But here is the trouble: I will not under any circumstances write anything unfavorable about any of my colleagues-and some of the stuff Spec asks me to comment on stinks. This one by Art Clarke is a dilly. But the last request concerned a story by — . I’m on good terms with — and intend to stay that way-but, had I written in as — asked me to, the letter would’have read: “Dear Spec, You should be ashamed to have printed it and — should be ashamed of having written it.”
So what should I do, Lurton? Pick out only the ones I can honestly praise and ignore the others? Or do as I have been doing and never comment on the work of my colleagues?