Summary

H. Bedford-Jones,  Bigfoot Joe, and Others: Figments of Fancy (1920)

“ The Philosopher groped after his soul, the Painter strove to express his soul, and the Poet tried to clothe his soul in words. The half-breed, caring nothing about soul, struck fire from the spirit of the Great Author, who knew what a plain thing the soul really is; this, in fact, was why he was a Great Author.
And so, when he had returned again to his own country, the Great Author neglected to write about the famous Artists. Instead, he penned a wonderful tale about a halfbreed Indian, and the world cried out in rapture.
”
Source: Gutenberg

H. Bedford-Jones,  Bigfoot Joe, and Others: Figments of Fancy (1920)

“ A new fiction magazine makes its curtsey by deploring these facts and apologetically devotes its pages only to the highest forms of writing. Stuff! Why cringe to the Elder Brethren? An editor interprets the wishes of the public; he is not to suit his own whims, but to make money for the owners.
The public knows what it wants, and will pay to get it. The mystics may become the oracles of new cults, may set about remaking their own petty worlds after their hearts' desires; but they cannot make a living by the quill. Even the music critics have come from their misty pinnacles.
”
Source: Gutenberg

H. Bedford-Jones,  Bigfoot Joe, and Others: Figments of Fancy (1920)

“ Ethics were individual things entirely, much beneath the consideration of free artists. And what was an editor compared with one who wrote literature? Less than the dust!
However, the suggestion that it was the editor who wrote the checks, proved to be sobering—amazingly sobering.
The days wore breezily on, with much writing and earnest endeavor, and much discussion of why no man in the writing game today deserved the place he held; that is, no man at the top. One or two had some facility; a little plot, perhaps, a gift of words, a lilt to paragraphs—but this was "all they had."
”
Source: Gutenberg

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