ional book. The great point about Mr.
Holliday's chapters, which have been written in collaboration with
Alexander Van Rensselaer, is that they are disinterested. There has been
an immense amount of printed matter, some of it in book form, telling of
the problems that confront the writer, especially the young beginner. As a
rule, the underlying motive was to induce people to write so that someone
else might make money out of their efforts, whether the writers did or
not. So-called correspondence schools in the art of writing, so-called
literary bureaus, interested individuals anxious to earn "commissions,"
and sometimes individuals who purported to be publishers have for many
years carried on a continuous campaign at the expense of persons who did
not know how to write but who fancied they could write and who, above
everything, craved to write--craved seeing themselves in print and hearing
themselves referred to as "authors" or "writers." It would take a
statistician versed in all manner of mysteries and calculations to tell
how many people have been deluded by this stuff, and how much money has
been nuzzled out of them. The time was certainly here for someone in a
position to tell the truth to speak up.

And of Mr. Holliday's qualifications there is no question. He has had to
do with books and authors and book publishing for years. He was, as his
readers know, for a number of years in the Scribner bookstore. He was with
Doubleday, Page & Company at Garden City; he was with George H. Doran
Company, serving not only as editor of The Bookman but acting in other
editorial capacities. He is now connected with Henry Holt & Company. As an
author he is amply established. Therefore, when he tells about writing and
book publishing and bookselling, and when he discusses such subjects as
"Publishing Your Own Book," his statements are most thoroughly documented.
The important thing, however, is that Mr. Holliday is disinterested, he
has no axe to grind in the advice he gives; although the impressive thing
about his book is the absence of advice and the continual presentation of
unvarnished facts. After all, confronted with the facts, the literary
aspirant of ordinary intelligence must and should reach his own
conclusions as regards what he wants to do and how best to essay it. This
is a sample of the kind of straightforwardness to which Mr. Holliday
adheres:

"An experienced writer 'on his own' may earn a couple of hundred dollars