But they kept raising the price, from $250 to $500 and then to $750—and I tried to shut them up by outlining in one paragraph how feeble a SF story would have to be to be told in 1,200 words . . . whereupon they accepted the outline and asked me to go ahead. I may possibly do so. If I do, I will submit it through you. Otherwise this is just for your information. It's a silly business at best—sixty-two cents a word is more than it's worth, but 1,200 words is a silly length for science fiction.
CHAPTER XI
ADULT NOVELS
THE PUPPET MASTERS
(162)
Doubleday published The Puppet Masters, Galaxy magazine had changed so much of it in the serialized version that Heinlein barely recognized his own style.
Aliens, in the form of slugs or parasites, suddenly appear on Earth and turn normal humans into zombies willing to do the invaders' will. A government agency sends agents to investigate, but those agents are lost. Two special agents, "Sam" and "Mary," are briefed and sent into the fray.
At different times, both "Sam" and "Mary" become the willing tools of the slugs, and there are horrifying scenes as they engage in war against their homeland. We see them completely committed to their masters. But as the U.S. comes close to being taken over by these aliens, fast action and all-out war eventually save the country.
November 4, 1950: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I have not written lately because I have been working seven days a week and far into the night on the new novel—75,000 words down on paper so far and all I need now is a smash ending. That is giving me trouble. I should be working on it at this moment (8:30 p.m., Sat. Eve.) but enough things have accumulated that I must write.
December 2, 1950: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Herewith the original and first carbon of The Puppet Masters.
* * *
As the story stands, it is a bit long (about 90,000 words) for serialization and much too long for a single-shot, but I would much rather cut to an editor's specific requirements than to cut blindly ahead of time. I append hereto something which you may or may not see fit to send along with the copy submitted for serialization: a list of possible breaks. I don't know whether this is good salesmanship or not, but I thought it might help if an editor could see at once that the story was very flexible, serialwise. As you know, I can cut, bridge, write around, etc., to shorten anything they want shortened to any extent they wish . . .
I suspect, too, that a magazine editor will want the sex in this toned down; that's easy.
January 5, 1951: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Oh yes—Bradbury [Walter Bradbury, science fiction editor for Doubleday] wrote to me about The Puppet Masters; I wrote back agreeing to make all suggested cuts and changes, but nevertheless expressing some difference of opinion as to the advisability of the revisions. In my opinion a horror story—which this is—is not improved commercially by watering it down. Edgar Allan Poe wrote a great many things; I own and have read all his works—he is known for about 5% of his published writings, all sheer unadulterated horror, much of it much more grisly than mine. But I am going to do exactly what Bradbury says to do; he's paying for it and I need the money.
March 23, 1951: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heinlein
Revision on Puppet Masters satisfied Doubleday. Sent word to Gold [H. L. Gold, editor of Galaxy].
April 3, 1951: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heinlein
Talked with Gold today. The magazine is undergoing a policy change, and must wait before purchase. Controlled from abroad—France and Italy—will let LB know when there is definite word.
April 21, 1951: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
You will recall that you advised me that Gold's original demands for revision for serial publication were outlandish in view of what he would pay—about $2,000.
June 3, 1951: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Galleys for The Puppet Masters have arrived; galleys for Between Planets are expected this week; Gold wants synopses for The Puppet Masters. I am still on a merry-go-round but will take care of these items without undue delay. I learn from the grapevine (but not from ----) that "Green Hills" is about to be published.
August 20, 1951: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I have been sitting on my hands this past week to keep from writing a stiff letter to Gold. He sent me an advance copy of the September Galaxy with the first installment of The Puppet Masters. Gold turns out to be a copy messer-upper; there is hardly a paragraph which he has not "improved"—and I am fit to be tied.
Now Galaxy is an excellent market and I do not wish to make your task any harder by antagonizing an editor to whom you may be offering more of my copy—but if I were free-lancing without an agent, I'd be quite willing to risk losing the market permanently in order to settle the matter. What I would like to say to him is: "Listen, you cheesehead, when we were both free-lance writers I had a much higher reputation than you had—in fact you never wrote a number-one science fiction story in your life—so who in hell do you think you are to be 'improving' my copy!"
Well, I didn't and I won't—but that is how I feel and it is the literal truth; Gold is turning out a good magazine, but as a writer he was never anything but a run-of-the-mill hack. This whole matter no doubt sounds like a tempest in a teapot, particularly as Gold did not change the story line but merely monkeyed with dialog, rephrased sentences and such—in short, edited the style. Look, Lurton, my plots are never novel, I am not an originator of brand-new and wonderful ideas the way H. G. Wells was; my reputation rests almost solely on how I tell a story . . . my individual style. It is almost my entire stock in trade.
Without changing the plot in the least, without changing the manuscript in any fashion that could be detected by someone else without side-by-side comparison, Gold has restyled the copy in hundreds of places from my style to his style. It would be very difficult to show how he has damaged the story, but in my opinion he has changed a story-with-a-moth-eaten-plot amusingly told into a story-with-a-moth-eaten-plot poorly told. This is my first serial appearance in a long time; his changes will not make it easier to get top rates for my next such appearance. The cash customers won't know what is wrong, but they will have the feeling of being let down—not quite "first-rate Heinlein."
I'll cite just one example out of hundreds: At one point I have a nurse say, "Eat it, or I'll rub it in your hair."
Gold changes this to, "Eat it, or you'll get it through a tube."
See the difference? My phrasing is mildly (very mildly) humorous. It conjures up a picture of a nurse who maintains discipline by cajolery, by the light touch, the joking remark. Gold's phrasing is as flatfooted and unsmiling as an order from a hard-boiled top sergeant.
There are both sorts of nurses, admitted. But the entire characterization of this nurse (Doris Marden) had been consistent as the sort of a person who kidded her patients into cooperation (modeled after a nurse who attended me at Jefferson Medical); with one phrase Gold louses up the characterization and turns her into the top-sergeant type.
In another place I describe the heroine as "lean"; Gold changes it to "slender"—good Lord, heroines have always been "slender"; it's a cliché. I used "lean" on purpose, to give her some reality, make her a touch different.
You see? All little things, but hundreds of them. I can't prove that the story is spoiled. Maybe it isn't, but I know that it is filled with stylisms that never would have come out of my typewriter. You might try the magazine version yourself without checking for the changes, but simply checking to see if it tastes the way it did the first time you read it.
All this is spilt milk except (a) the last installment may not yet be set in type, (b) it may be possible to prevent it from happening in the future. On the first point, the reader's impression of the story depends largely on how he feels when he finishes the story; if Gold can be pushed into returning to the version he bought for the third installment, t
he louse-up of the first and second installments won't matter too much. Could you talk tough to him, point out that it has been repeatedly adjudicated that mere purchase of the right to publish does not give to him the right to change copy under my byline and that he must print as written, or run the risk of a lawsuit? Or could you kid him out of it, convince him that he should do it to cater to my prima-donna feelings? On point (b) you can either reach an understanding now, or take it up whenever we again submit copy to him, but he must clearly understand and (I think) agree in writing that all changes must be made before the sale is completed; once sold the entire ms. is "stet" and must remain so.
Hell's bells, I don't mind the few little changes that most editors make and I don't mind a reasonable amount of revising done by me to editorial order, but this guy has monkeyed with every page.
This is not artistic temperament talking, Lurton—had it been I would simply have blasted at him in person. I am seriously concerned with the business aspects—a strong belief that the property has been damaged commercially and that it will affect the market value of future properties.
I've started fiddling with a new story.
September 24, 1951: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heinlein
Gold tells me that he has written you a letter of apology for his heavy hand on your story, and promises that, though he edits all material which comes his way, from now on yours will be inviolate.
THE DOOR INTO SUMMER
(166)
Heinlein broke into Doubleday's adult market with The Door Into Summer in 1957. Cover art by Mel Hunter.
Dan is an inventor of a line of housekeeping robotlike devices. But his partners steal control of Hired Girl, Inc., from him, then place him in frozen sleep for thirty years into the future. There he learns that Hired Girl has a rival, Aladdin Corp. From the patents of Aladdin's devices, he discovers that the inventor is—himself!
Dan manages to use a discredited time machine to return several months before the time he was shanghaied. He now invents the devices of Aladdin Corp. He gives his shares of Hired Girl to an eleven-year-old girl, Ricky, who has a crush on him, telling her how to meet him when she is grown; then he and his cat, Pete, take frozen sleep for thirty years.
His partner in Aladdin Corp is honest, and Dan is now a rich man. When Ricky is awakened from the long sleep, he meets her. They go off together to be married.
February 2, 1956: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I am 104 ms. pp. into a new novel, hopefully intended for the so-called adult trade. It is giving me chronic headaches and chronic insomnia and I wonder why I ever entered the silly business—but if I hold up physically, The Door into Summer should be finished in draft this month and finished in smooth around the end of March. Maybe.
We have a foot of snow on the ground, pheasants all over the place, and Pixie hates it. He blames Ginny.
May 31, 1956: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Re synopses for Door into Summer: I write my own synopses only when the editor twists my arm and demands it—which is usually. If Boucher [the editor of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction] is willing to do them himself, I'll be delighted; he's more literate than I am anyhow.
DOUBLE STAR
(167)
Heinlein had considered selling Double Star elsewhere, as he disapproved of Doubleday's Book Club contracts.
Lorenzo Smythe is an actor—a good one, though now down on his luck. When a spaceman named Broadbent offers him a job, he is willing—until he learns it is to go to Mars. But Broadbent forces him by a secret way through Skyport and to the Go for Broke. Then he learns that he is to impersonate the great statesman Bonforte—who has been kidnapped and who is due to deliver a major policy speech. Lorenzo is given tapes and films—and begins to "put on Bonaforte's head." But when Bonforte is found, he has been severely injured.
Lorenzo reluctantly carries on, meeting the press, entering a Martian "hive," even meeting Prince Willem, and learning more and more of Bonforte's manners and thoughts. Then Bonforte dies!
Broadbent and others finally persuade Lorenzo to carry on. He does, successfully for the rest of his life.
March 23, 1955: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I am aware that I should have written to you several days ago, but I trust you will forgive me when I say that I have completed the novel I was working on. Its present title is Star Role [Double Star], it runs about 55,000 words, and is intended for an adult audience. (No sexy scenes, however, and no taboo monosyllables—just an occasional damn or hell, and I may even take those out. The book should be suitable for the kids who will read it anyway.)
I held down the length in the belief that serial sale would be easier; I hope that this one will finally crack Colliers, the Post, or some other adult and not-SF-specialized market. I figure that, costs being what they are, a short length will make it more attractive for both trade book and pocket books as well.
* * *
I don't know whether you should advise Doubleday or not. I like [Walter] Bradbury but I do not like the screwy "Science Fiction Book Club" aspect of their contract; they sold a lot of copies of my books with them and I got very little out of it—I do not regard two and a half cents per copy as a good royalty on a hardcover edition put close on the heels of the trade book. Since Bradbury turned down the travel book, we are no longer under option to Doubleday; perhaps this would be a good time to look into the Ballantine deal if it is still being offered. In any case, I have an adult novel available for book and serial.
(168)
Double Star went on to win the Hugo Award for Best Novel of 1956 at the World Science Fiction Convention, New York, NY.
April 21, 1955: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heinlein
Congratulations on a good novel. Enjoyed all of Double Star; wished it longer. No slow spots.
June 3, 1955: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heinlein
The Post thought your novel was excellent and the only reason they did not buy it as a serial was that they do not want to devote that much space to science fiction. Campbell is buying it, to run in February, March, and April issues. Doubleday to bring it out in March.
(169)
(169)
Heinlein had originally looked into a non-Science Fiction market for the serialized Double Star but eventually decided to publish in Astounding in three issues. Cover art by Kelly Freas.
GLORY ROAD
(170)
Glory Road was a departure for Heinlein, being more fantasy than science fiction.
Oscar Gordon, a Vietnam veteran, is vacationing by the sea in the South of France when he is approached by a beautiful woman. She needs his help. He agrees, and she gives him a sword and takes him to another world, where many dangers beset them. He has to defeat dragons, an ogre, and other monsters. Betweentimes, they make love.
She tells him she is Ishtar, Queen of Twenty Universes, but she is powerless without the Phoenix Egg, which he must recover. They reach the place where it is and Oscar now faces a series of truly horrible dangers. But he recovers the Egg.
She makes him her Prince and takes him to Center, her world. But he grows bored with all the privileges and protocol. He learns how to return to Earth and leaves.
May 9, 1962: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I have not written for some time because I have been writing that new novel, now completed: Glory Road, 409 ms. pages, about 105,000 words. I am now revising it for my typist and will cut it a little but not much. You will have it not sooner than two months from now as my typist does my work as "moonlighting," as she has a daytime job. This is an adult market story with enough sex in it to give heart failure to those who complained about Stranger. It is fantasy verging on SF.
June 6, 1962: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
. . . We intend to stay quietly at home all summer and I expect to spend the time hauling rocks and weeding and such. I do not expect to write until fall—after all, two nov
els in one year by the 1st of May is considerable copy, and I find I am tired and uninspired after finishing Glory Road.
August 6, 1962: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heinlein
Glory Road is a departure, even for you. It is more fantasy than science fiction. It is an excellent adventure story, seasoned with sage thoughts, spiced with interesting sex. There were a number of spots where I wanted to stop reading and find an audience to share your ideas with. I do hope this will have a real success. I find it delightful.
September 30, 1962: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
. . . I am not interested in his offer. Not the amount of the fee—a ms. is worth what you can get for it . . . sometimes zero. Nor do I object too much to the labor of cutting. What I do object to is that he wants me simply to chop off the last hundred pages.
If I do this, what is left is merely a sexed up fairy story, with no meaning and no explanations. I do not want this story published in such an amputated form. About thirty pages of that last hundred is indeed rather preachy, rather slow, and (if I were to cut) I would sweat that stretch down as much as possible—i.e., from the hero's arrival on the planet Center until his decision to leave—but I am quite unwilling simply to chop the story off at the point where they capture the Egg of the Phoenix. It leaves the story without meaning.
December 7, 1962: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heinlein
Putnam likes Glory Road. There should be a little tightening in it, and "a few not very serious" suggestions for changes. Will mark ms. and send with detailed letter.
FARNHAM'S FREEHOLD
(172)
By 1964 and Farnham's Freehold, Heinlein was firmly entrenched with Putnam as his publisher.
Hugh Farnham and his family are caught in the blast of an atom bomb, but are not killed. Instead, they are dumped into the far future, to a world none had envisaged. They are soon taken captive. Here the people who call themselves a master race are black, and they consider all other humans little more than animals, to be made slaves, tortured, or killed at will. Farnham is a slave now.
Grumbles From the Grave Page 18
