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STF-Ette, issue 1, September 1940
Page 11
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Leigh Brackett I know very little about myself. I was found in a state of suspended animation, sealed into a metal cylinder, during the excavation of a cellar under Jake's delicatessen. Immediately upon being revived by a combination of O plus N plus negligible amounts of Ne, Kr, and He, I began to read Scientifiction. After a decent interval of time I began to write it. Nobody bought it. I retired to brood, taking up residence in a charming little abandoned crypt in Forest Lawn, between an unemployed werewolf and a Spanish vampire who smokes marijuana. There I lived for some time, inditing masterpieces and carrying on long scientific discussions with my inseparable companion, Toodles--the intelligent storage battery who developed from a spore found in the same metal cylinder with Yrs. Truly. After about ten years of this I became desperate. Toodles and I devised a plot. Having invented a modest gadget by which matter may be reduced to its component atoms and sent instantly through space, to be rematerialized in the desired spot, I placed Toodles and my latest completed manuscript on the sending plate, or cathode. Immediately, in the editorial offices of Street and Smith, or anode, script and Toodles were materialized. When Mr. Campbell unsuspectingly reached for the script, Toodles slyly shot several million volts through the editorial anatomy. While in a trance induced by this treatment, Mr. Campbell brought two of my yarns. This ruse has since proved effective with several other editors-----Weisinger, Pohl, and Reiss. I am now working on a radio-telepathic remote control, which I hope will do away with the first cumbersome apparatus, and which will insure one hundred per cent sales, even with editors who have published my stuff and are now wise to me
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Leigh Brackett I know very little about myself. I was found in a state of suspended animation, sealed into a metal cylinder, during the excavation of a cellar under Jake's delicatessen. Immediately upon being revived by a combination of O plus N plus negligible amounts of Ne, Kr, and He, I began to read Scientifiction. After a decent interval of time I began to write it. Nobody bought it. I retired to brood, taking up residence in a charming little abandoned crypt in Forest Lawn, between an unemployed werewolf and a Spanish vampire who smokes marijuana. There I lived for some time, inditing masterpieces and carrying on long scientific discussions with my inseparable companion, Toodles--the intelligent storage battery who developed from a spore found in the same metal cylinder with Yrs. Truly. After about ten years of this I became desperate. Toodles and I devised a plot. Having invented a modest gadget by which matter may be reduced to its component atoms and sent instantly through space, to be rematerialized in the desired spot, I placed Toodles and my latest completed manuscript on the sending plate, or cathode. Immediately, in the editorial offices of Street and Smith, or anode, script and Toodles were materialized. When Mr. Campbell unsuspectingly reached for the script, Toodles slyly shot several million volts through the editorial anatomy. While in a trance induced by this treatment, Mr. Campbell brought two of my yarns. This ruse has since proved effective with several other editors-----Weisinger, Pohl, and Reiss. I am now working on a radio-telepathic remote control, which I hope will do away with the first cumbersome apparatus, and which will insure one hundred per cent sales, even with editors who have published my stuff and are now wise to me
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