Writers hear a lot of prattle about how speculative the trade book business is and how prestige houses (such as Scribner's) will publish a book which might lose money because the author should be encouraged-and hope to make it up on the rest of their list. Well, I seem to be part of the "rest of their list," the part that makes up their losses-for I certainly did not appear to be a writer they were willing to take even a little chance on, when it came to scratch. I was simply dumped.
Furthermore, the ms. couldn't have been bad enough to justify dumping me in view of the fact that three other editors bought it...and then it went on to win the Hugo [Award] for [1959]. (Besides that, I notice that, despite -- 's earlier worries, the trade book sold 5,000 copies in the first two and a half months...and now he tells us that sales are picking up.)
It seems to me that, if the pious crap they hand out about "taking a chance" on authors actually meant anything, Mr. Scribner himself would have said to his editorial board: "Maybe this isn't the best book Mr. Heinlein has ever done-possibly it will even flop and we'll lose a little money on him this time. But his books have been steady sellers in the past and we'll have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps with a little revision it will be more acceptable; if you don't want to write to him about revisions, let me look over the ms. again and I will write to him...but we can't simply reject the book out of hand. Mr. Heinlein is part of the Scribner's family and has been for years."
Too goddamned much to expect, I suppose. At least that was not the way he handled it.
Lurton, it seems to me that, with any other successful writer on their list, Scribner's would have published that book-perhaps with revisions and perhaps not as a juvenile-but they would have published it. But if Mr. Scribner felt that he simply could not publish it, I think the circumstances called for a note, a letter, a measure of polite discussion, from the boss to me..." . a minimum of formal politeness.
I did not receive that minimum. I think Mr. Scribner treated me with extreme rudeness...so I don't want to work for him. Lurton, I have elaborated this matter because, in several letters lately, you have pointed out that the new juvenile editor at Scribner's is anxious ' 'to welcome me back." So I have explained why I am not going back. I have nothing against the lady who now has that department-but the firm is still Mr. Scribner's. If the action had been taken by Miss Dalgliesh alone -- But it was not; when I got tossed out, Mr. Scribner in person had me by the scruff of the neck and took part in the tossing, without even a formal word of regret.
Under the circumstances I'll take my business farther up the street. Or across the street. But I won't be kicked twice.
PODKAYNE OF MARS
March 8, 1962: Lurton Blassingame to Robert A. Heiniein
Enjoyed all of Podkayne Fries-except ending. She was such a sweet kid that I hated for you to kill her. That is the Heinlein touch-tell Ginny to beware. It's a good story.
March 10, 1962: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Is Poddy a juvenile? I didn't think of it as such and I suggest that it violates numerous taboos for the juvenile market. It seems to me that it is what the Swedes call a "cadet" book-upper teenage, plus such adults and juveniles as may enjoy it-and the American trade book market does not recognize such a category. But possibly it might be well to let [Putnam] have this story at once and see what happens.
Lurton, for several years now I have been writing just stories, with no eye on the market, and have been writing them with no criterion save the fixed belief that a story which interests me, and the solution of which satisfies me, will interest and satisfy a sufficient percentage of readers to make the story commercially usable. Maybe I'm wrong about this-maybe I should study the market and try like hell to tailor something which fits the current styles. But it seems to me that, if I am to turn out work of (fairly) permanent value, my own taste (checked by yours and by Ginny's) is what I must follow. Of course, this may result in my losing the market entirely-but I hope that it will result in better stories than if I tried to compound the "mixture as before."
I know that the ending of Poddy comes as rather a shock. However, that is the ending that seemed to fit-to me. The story follows a definite progression: a girl child with no -worries at all and a preposterous ambition...then, step by step, she grows up and discovers that the real world is more complex and not nearly as sweet as she had thought...and that the only basic standard for an adult is the welfare of the young.
Oh, I could revise that last chapter to a "happy" ending in about two hours-let Poddy live through it, injured but promised a full recovery and with the implication that she will eventually marry this rich and handsome bloke who can take her with him to the stars...and still give her brat kid brother a comeuppance and his lumps (and it is possible that I will at least consider doing this if no editor will risk publishing it as it is). But I don't want to do this; I think it would ruin the story-something like revising Romeo and Juliet to let the young lovers "live happily ever after."
But it took the deaths of Romeo and Juliet to show the families Montague and Capulet what damned fools they were being. Poddy's death (it seems to me) is similarly indispensable to this story. The true tragedy in this story lies in the character of the mother, the highly successful career woman who wouldn't take time to raise her own kids-and thereby let her son grow up an infantile monster, no real part of the human race and indifferent to the wellbeing of others...until the death of his sister, under circumstances which lay on him a guilt he can never shake off, gives some prospect that he is now going to grow up.
I could state that the theme of the story is that death is the only destination for all of us and that the only long-range hope for any adult lies in the young-and that this double realization constitutes growing up, ceasing to be a child and putting away childish things. But I can't say it that baldly, not in fiction, and it seemed to me that I needed Poddy's death to say it at all. If Poddy gets to have her cake and eat it too (both marriage and star-roving), if that little monster, her brother, gets off unscathed to continue his clever but asocial career, if their mother gets away with neglecting her children's rearing without having it backfire on her-then the story is just a series of mildly adventurous incidents, strung together.
March 23, 1962: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
I understand and appreciate, I think, your remarks about Cezanne and his black outlines-but this is an endless problem for me with no easy solution. If I preach overtly, I get complaints from Ginny, you, the editor, and in time the readers...and I'm all too prone to preach. In this book, Poddy, I'm limited by what Poddy herself would say-which is perhaps just as well!!!
May 9, 1962: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Please tell Peter Israel of Putnam's that I will tackle the revision he wants very shortly, say about the first of the week. I have one other job to finish first. I still have strong doubts about the artistic and dramatic necessity of a happy ending on this story-but I'll do my damndest.
May 20, 1962: Robert A. Heinlein to Lurton Blassingame
Neither editor liked my title and I did not [like] either of their suggestions. I have suggested to Pohl [Frederik Pohl, editor of If\ Podkayne of Mars, which suits him. If it does not suit Mr. Israel I hope that he will suggest one which all three of us can agree on, as I prefer to have magazine, version and book carry the same title if possible.