Weird Tales/Volume 1/Issue 1/The Eyrie
The Eyrie
Weird Tales is nor merely "another new magazine." It's a brand new type of new magazine—a sensational variation from the established rules that are supposed to govern magazine publishing.
Weird Tales, in a word, is unique. In no other publication will you find the sort of stories that Weird Tales offers in this issue—and will continue to offer in the issues to come. Such stories are tabooed elsewhere. We do not know why. People like to read this kind of fiction. There's no gainsaying that. Nor does the moral question of "good taste" present an obstacle. At any rate, the stories in the issue of Weird Tales will not offend one's moral sense, nor will the stories we've booked for subsequent issues. Some of them may horrify you: and others, perhaps, will make you gasp at their outlandish imagery; but none, we think, will leave you any the worse for having read it.
We do believe, however, that these stories will cause you to forget your surroundings—remove your mind from the humdrum affairs of the workaday world—and provide you with exhilarating diversion. And, after all, isn't that the fundamental purpose of fiction?
Our stories are unlike any you have ever read—or perhaps ever will read—in the other magazines. They are unusual, uncanny, unparalleled. We have no space in Weird Tales for the "average magazine story." Unless a story is an extraordinary thing, we won't consider it.
If the letters we have already received, and are still receiving (weeks before the magazine goes to press), are an augury of success, then Weird Tales is on the threshold of a tremendously prosperous career. Some of these letters are accompanied by subscriptions, others request advertising rates and specimen copies; all predict great things for us and express enthusiastic anticipation of "something different" in magazine fiction.
Anthony M. Rud, whose amazing novelette, "Ooze," appears in this issue, wrote to us as follows:
"Weird Tales need not be immoral in slightest degree. Fact, ninety from one hundred generally contain wholesome moral, at least, derivable. Even studies of paranoia or fear hysteria, pure and simple, generally are clean from start to finish. The Poe type of yarn invariably makes me shiver—and then for a week I prefer the grape-nut road, shunning the dark places after curfew. But come back avidly for more shock!
"I wrote a story 'way back in college days, which three editors have proclaimed the best horror yarn they have read. The story I have with me now. It has been most thoroughly declined—and now, myself, I see many amateurish spots. I cherish the yarn, however, for of all the millions of published words I have written I consider this idea and its development my most finished work.
"I'll write that story for you—thus far called 'The Square of Canvas'—again from start to finish, and polish it as I would polish a jewel. The amount of money involved is no spur; I'd like to have it printed, even gratis. My honest hunch is that, when all is said and done, you'll like this yarn as well as any of your choice five.
"Please put me down as a subscriber to the new magazine. I am buried deep in the heart of piney woods, 36 miles from the nearest news-stand selling even a Sunday paper, and I want to make sure of seeing each issue of Weird Tales.
"It's a corking title, and it will get all the boosting I can give. Herewith a clipping of my last platform appearance. I told 'em of the coming magazine, and that it offered a field of reading unique. At Atlanta and Montgomery, where I speak later in the winter, I'll give the sheet a hand. I have two more dates in Mobile, and I'll mention your project.
"In a month or so I'll fix up 'A Square of Canvas' and shoot it in for consideration for Weird Tales."We got "A Square of Canvas" and promptly read it—and it will appear in the next issue of Weird Tales. Don't miss it! It's all that Mr. Rud says it is, and more besides! It's a terrifying, hair-raising tale, and no mistake! It's a bear! You can read it in twenty minutes, but those twenty minutes will fairly bristle!
Of "The Dead Man's Tale," which opens this issue, Willard E. Hawkins wrote us:
"……The idea for that story came to me in a flash one evening when my wife and I were returning from the theatre. I outlined the whole thing to her, and followed that outline without deviation in writing the story later. It struck me that I had never seen the Dr.-Jekyll-and-Mr.-Hyde type of situation developed from the point of the obsessing entity, and I was fascinated by the attempt to do it."
And we think you'll agree that Mr. Hawkins did a mighty fine job.
We assume you've read the stories in this, our first issue, before arriving upon this page back here, and we are eager to know what you think of them. Why not write and tell us? Mention the stories you liked, and those you didn't like, and tell us what you think of our attempt to do something new and different in the magazine field. We shall be delighted to hear from you; and we will print your letters on this page—unless you decree otherwise.
If you get the next issue of Weird Tales—as we hope you will—you'll read some strange and remarkable stories. Elsewhere in this number we've told you something about these stories, and we need only add here that each is a striking example of unusual fiction. Whatever effect they may have upon you—whether they make you shudder or set your nerves tingling pleasurably—we can emphatically promise you this:
You will not be bored!