Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

:lassic Girls {Continued from page 42) Appleton Holt determined to solve. For one so experienced in the fine art if love-making, he made a good many dunders. It was on one of these occa;ions that Pamela faced him with fury:olored cheeks and dangerous eyes. ‘What is it you want?” she asked hirn, i bit breathlessly. “You’re doing this tor a purpose — what is it?” And here Edgar Holt made his great:st blunder of all. “You are the purpose, Pamela — you!” He saw her shrink and falter from him, ind hurried on, tripping over the words. ‘I loved you the moment I saw you that light — you’re so different from other lirls ! There’s no one like you in all the ivorld ” “Stop!” she spoke sharply. “I know ;hose words by heart — another man taught them to me. Thank God, I know now what a lie they are !” They were alone in Sprague’s office for the moment, and he bent to her, crushing the little hands that fumbled among the typewriter keys in his big clasp. “Pamela, what can I say to make you believe me — what can I do?” “Nothing,” she spoke dully; “nothing. I shall never believe in a man again. And now wont you please — go away ?” The next morning an elderly woman with a structural steel frame and bone spectacles greeted Edgar’s horrified eyes when he entered his uncle’s office. His heart felt like a punctured tire as he turned to the scowling Sprague. “Where’s — Miss Gordon?” “How do I know?” growled his uncle. “Said good-night, as usual, last night, and this morning this — griffin appeared, said Miss Gordon had sent her, as it would be impossible for her to hold her position any longer. Only stenographer I ever had that knew whether receive was ei or ie. What did you say to her, you young scoundrel?” “Nothing,” Edgar assured him, dismally, “nothing at all except that I loved her, and wanted her to marry me more than anything in the world and a few little things like that ; but she wouldn’t listen to me.” “Turned you down, eh?” pondered old Sprague. “Well, didn’t I always say that girl had sense ?” In the studio Pamela got down the Bacchante, dusted the crumbly nose and put on her modeling apron. “Back to my career!” she announced to Violet, briskly ; “back to my career !” She . placed a sticky clay grape-leaf over the ‘ Bacchante’s brow. “Tonight we’ll hold I a meeting of the Man-Haters’ League.” ■ Violet avoided her eyes. “I’m sorry, [ Pam, but tonight I’ve got an — an eni gagement. Dont — dont wait up for me.” The day dragged interminably. The 3ale, sickly light straggling in at the airshaft window washed the studio with ^loom. Presently it began to rain, with 1 hissing sound as the drops swept down the shaft. The woman above scolded ler children shrilly and unceasingly. A (Eighty-one) dank odor of boiling cabbage seeped into the room. Pamela lit the gas jets, made herself a cup of tea, only to find that there were no lemons in the cupboard, put five different noses on the Bacchante, varying from Roman to Hibernian, and finally cast herself upon the model stand and wept. And in the midst of her weeping the door-bell rang, and the elevator boy handed her two telegrams. They were very short, and strangely alike : Dear Pam— I have just married the head bookkeeper in my office. He is a prince, and I am the happiest girl in the world. Lovingly, Violet. Dear Pam— I have just married the press agent at the theater. He is an angel, and I am the happiest girl in the world. Lovingly, Kate. Again Pamela cast herself upon the model throne and wept, and this time she wept because there were little four-room flats in Harlem that had cretonne curtains at the windows, and wicker chairs and a dainty white dinner-table set for two. And once again the door-bell rang. Edgar Holt looked down from his great height at the tear-streaked face with an absurd meekness that camouflaged his sudden hungry impulse to sweep this small, stubborn, beloved man-hater off her feet and into his arms. “I’m here to read the gas-meter,” he began gaily, and suddenly choked. “Pam, you ran away. What made you run away from me, sweetheart? Was it, I wonder— -was it because you were afraid you might like me— just a little if you stayed?” The dark head went up. “Of course it wasn’t,” Pamela declared, _ in a voice like tinkling ice. “I’m not in the least afraid.” “There was something I wanted to say,” hinted Edgar, “if I should be invited in ” “You forget,” Pamela reminded him, sternly, “you forget the rule — ‘no man shall step across the threshold of the door’ !” A moment later she stood, staring blankly toward the stairs. He was gone ! He had bowed gravely and gone away— and he would never come back again. Not that she cared, of course, still he might have waited to see whether she meant what she said. And, of^ course, she did mean what she said. Still . . . She was standing desolately _ by the open door, when she heard his voice again, above her, behind. “There wasn’t any ironing-board this time, so I had to use a shutter.” With a little, quivery cry she turned, and found herself caught up, held close in a pair of strong arms that would not let her go. Not, however, that she tried the experiment to see. Shamelessly she clung to him, sobbing against his collar. “But — suppose the shutter had broken! Oh, how could you do such a reckless thing? It’s nine stories up — why, you might have been killed!” {Continued on page 87) What makes a successful photoplay writer? Read this interesting experiencerecord of men and women who have won name and fame and money writing for the screen Why do some people succeed at photoplay writing— and others fail? Is it a special talent an unusual “knack” — a God-given gift bestowed upon the few and denied to the many? Why are moving picture studios deluged with a steady stream oi manuscript; and yet, despite all this, why are producers clamoring for photoplays that are off the beaten path — stories that pulsate with realism and that develop unexpected “twists” and “angles at every turn? ^ , What are the ingredients that go into a successful photoplay ; and how can you blend them to best advantage? What is the vital story-structure around which ALL successful photoplays are built — and how c^n you learn it? If you are interested in these questions— and you are ! — you will be interested in the experiences of those who asked these self-same questions and who found the answer to them in the Palmer Plan or Photoplay Writing. Here, for example, is a letter from one of our students — just as it came to our desk the other day : "My Impression of photoplay correspondence schools was bitterly uncomplimentary. It was only to please M Insistent) friend that I signed up for a course of study with the Palmer Plan. Up to this time I had not been able toi find out from personal Interviews, by letter, or by reading books on the subject, just what ^3^ quired to make a photoplay saleable. My work had one fault In particulaj*. Always I was told of it, but never was I shown just how to overcome it. , , , ,, “I opened the Palmer Plan lessons half-heartedly enough. One is never vitally interested In something done on the wave of a friend's enthusiasm But almost Immediately I was Interested. , .a. . t. “When I put the lessons down I realized that here was a plan that would worki The ^sentlal points in photoplay writing had been selected and were made clear. More than this— the thought to be (^nveyed to the student was hammered in until it ‘registered “I wrote a play and checked up the points that tallied with the Palmer Plan lessons I had learned— and I trusted to luck about the old fault that had stood out so conspicuously. , . _ i “My play came back to me for revision. My weaic spot had been discovered, and another one, too. But — here is the point I want to rub in: I waa told just exactly and precieely how to master these faults of construotion. I wrote another play, and applied the prescribed remedy. It worked like a charm. At any rate, my play, ‘Diamonds and Daffodils,' was imme^ately sold and is now being produced as a five-reel picture. “This Is the first play I have ever been able to seU and I do not hesitate to say that the sale of this play was due almost entirely to the splendid help I received from the Palmer Photoplay Corporation." {Name and address of the writer on request) Hardly a day goes by but what we receive a letter from some grateful member with the story of his or her success. One member, after struggling unsuccessfully for years, received $500 for his first photoplay marketed through us. Another secured a staff position three weeks after enrollment. Another member succeeded in having his very first story accepted and produced. Another rose in a few months from an underpaid clerical position to Assistant Managing Editor of one of the largest film companies. Still another — a busy housewife and mother of four children — is earning over $200 monthly from spare-time work. And now — is there any valid reason _ why your “movie” ideas and plots should languish in the dark — when one of the best-known screen authors in America (Frederick Palmer) is ready to help you make the most of them? Is there any reason why you, too, should not win name and fame and money — as these people have — through the practical help and cooperation of the Palmer Photoplay Institute? Get our booklet on Photoplay Writing FREE! If you want to know about the famine in photoplays— the top-notch prices ($100 to $1,000) producers are paying for acceptable material and how eager they are to welcome Palmer-trained writers — send today for our new booklet, “The Secret of Successful Photoplay Writing.” Explains the Palmer Plan in detail — shows the practical advantages of our Personal Advisory Service and Manuscript Sales Department — shows pur iron-clad, money-back Guarantee. Your copy is v^iting for you — and it’s free! Mail the coupon NOW! PALMIER PHOTOPLAY CORPORATION 748 I. W. Heilman Bldg., Los Angeles, Cal. Please send me, without obligation, your new booklet, “The Secret of Successful Photoplay Writing.' Also — Special Supplement containing autographed letters from the leading producers, stars, editors, etc. Name St. and No state