Word: writing
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Oliver Herford inevitably has, or succeeds in giving the impression that he has, which is the same thing, a sort of literary Midas touch. Everything he lays his hands upon shines forth with the glisten of real gold. This touch is by no means limited to what he writes and draws himself; all he needs to do is to write a paragraph or two in introduction and the body of the book which follows even though it be anthology, obligingly puts on a golden tinge. So with his latest collection of "Poems from 'Life'". The casual reader opens...
...illegal domestic liquor can be dried up. "The present orgy of lawlessness is utterly unnecessary. The Federal Government has a right to give or refuse a permit to make or dispose of beer, liquor or alcohol in any form and to describe its conditions. "If the Federal Government would write into each of its permits to manufacture, transport, store or utilize alcoholic liquors certain simple conditions it would make lawbreaking so difficult as to be practically impossible." Mr. Pinchot has found his issue...
...fine to meet a romantic novelist again, after all these able young gentlemen whose text-book is What Every Young Man Ought to Know. I fancy such things do not greatly worry Mr. Farnol. He takes the facts of life for granted and proceeds from that basis to write of the things which lead away from life. Only think what a book Carl Van Vechten or Floyd Dell might have written if either one of them had been, like Jeffery Farnol, a stagehand and a scene painter on Broadway for two years-or perhaps it would have cured them...
Margery's grandparents were publishers and her parents writers of fiction, so, it was as natural for the little girl to sit down and "write a story" as for a shopkeeper's child to play to keeping shop. The philosophy of art and the technical problems of serial fiction were commonplaces of the domestic atmosphere. But when a young lady of eighteen writes a novel in four months and calmly asserts that it came to her out of the air, communicated by so-called automatic writing, the average grownup hesitates, comments McFee. Yet if one knows, the road from Colchester...
...years, had been invited to address the Harding memorial meeting in Manhattan on Nov. 2, Mr. Harding's birthday. Said he, none too steadily: " I couldn't go to such a meeting and say anything . . . Some time, probably after I leave this office, I am going to write the story of Warren G. Harding. I have a mass of material-letters, documents, records -which I will use or turn over to whomever may be given the task of getting them into shape...