I was particularly fascinated by the poem by Alice l'Anson in the latest issue. The writer must surely live in Mexico, for I believe that only one familiar with that ancient land could so reflect the slumbering soul of prehistoric Aztec-land as she has done. There is a difference in a poem written on some subject by one afar off and poem written on the same subject by one familiar with the very heart of that subject. I have put it very clumsily, but
Robert E. Howard to Weird Tales, Mar 1932
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Congratulations on the appearance and excellence of the current
Robert E. Howard to Weird Tales, Jun 1936
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Enthusiasm impels me to pause from burning spines off cactus for my drouth-bedeviled goats long enough to give three slightly dust-choked cheers for the April cover illustration. The color combination is vivid and attractive, the lady is luscious, and altogether I think it's the best thing Mrs. Brundage has done since she illustrated my
Personal Letters:
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To Robert Barlow
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Dear Mr. Barlow:
Thank you very much for the copy of the
Robert E. Howard
To August Derleth
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Reverse:
This card was purchased in Lincoln, N.M. from a descendant of a participant in the Bloody Lincoln County War.
REH
To Harold Preece
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Robert E. Howard to Harold Preece, Oct 20, 1928
Salaam:
Your stationery is alright. How is the university? Frankly, I know very little about the school and the little I do know is bad, but I'm prejudiced against all colleges—to Hell with them.
The American Legion—gah! They're supposed to be running the fight club here and won't put on a decent show; been expecting me to rustle some good hard slugging boys who'll fight for little or nothing. I worked up a good grudge bout between two boxers who hated each other, but it fell through and I'm done with the damned business. I was going to San Antonio to the convention, mainly because Sammy Baker was supposed to fight there, but I didn't make it. I wish to Hell I had; I'd have liked to have been there.
About O. Henry and the ostrich feather business—I can't work up much resentment against a girl who's that childish—too much like the action of a little kid who isn't responsible for her thoughts.
"The King of Kings" gripped me. I though it was powerful, though I think Joseph Schildrkraut ran away with the picture as Judas. And William Boyd, that fellow is the most human actor in the world. H.B. Warner lacked fire of course, but I don't know who else could have done even as good as he did…
I'm not going to vote. I won't vote for a Catholic and I won't vote for a damned Republican. Maybe I've said that before. My ancestors were all Catholic and not very far back. And I have reason to hate the church.