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    Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 30, 1892
    Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 30, 1892
    Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 30, 1892
    Ebook101 pages37 minutes

    Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 30, 1892

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 25, 2013
    Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 30, 1892

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      Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 30, 1892 - Archive Classics

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102,

      January 30, 1892, by Various

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, January 30, 1892

      Author: Various

      Release Date: December 6, 2004 [EBook #14272]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***

      Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team

      PUNCH,

      OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

      Vol. 102.

      January 30, 1892.

      CONFESSIONS OF A DUFFER.

      III.—THE LITERARY DUFFER.

      I have worn a cloak and a Tyrolese hat, and attitudinised in the Picture-galleries.

      Why I am not a success in literature it is difficult for me to tell; indeed, I would give a good deal to anyone who would explain the reason. The Publishers, and Editors, and Literary Men decline to tell me why they do not want my contributions. I am sure I have done all that I can to succeed. When my Novel, Geoffrey's Cousin, comes back from the Row, I do not lose heart—I pack it up, and send it off again to the Square, and so, I may say, it goes the round. The very manuscript attests the trouble I have taken. Parts of it are written in my own hand, more in that of my housemaid, to whom I have dictated passages; a good deal is in the hand of my wife. There are sentences which I have written a dozen times, on the margins, with lines leading up to them in red ink. The story is written on paper of all sorts and sizes, and bits of paper are pasted on, here and there, containing revised versions of incidents and dialogue. The whole packet is now far from clean, and has a business-like and travelled air about it, which should command respect. I always accompany it with a polite letter, expressing my willingness to cut it down, or expand it, or change the conclusion. Nobody can say that I am proud. But it always comes back from the Publishers and Editors, without any explanation as to why it will not do. This is what I resent as particularly hard. The Publishers decline to tell me what their Readers have really said about it. I have forwarded Geoffrey's Cousin to at least five or six notorious authors, with a letter, which runs thus:—

      "DEAR SIR,—You will be surprised at receiving a letter from a total stranger, but your well-known goodness of heart must plead my excuse. I am aware that your time is much occupied, but I am certain that you will spare enough of that valuable commodity to glance through the accompanying MS. Novel, and give me your frank opinion of it. Does it stand in need of any alterations, and, if so, what? Would you mind having it published under your own name, receiving one-third of the profits? A

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