Modern Screen (Jan-Jun 1945)

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After only two lessons, I sold a garden series to Baltimore American. N.I. A. way makes writing child's play."— Gladys Carr, Annapolis, Md. To People who want to write but can 9t get started DO YOU have that constant urge to write but the fear that a beginner hasn't a chance? Here is what the editor of Liberty said: — "There is more room for newcomers in writing than ever before. Some of the greatest of writing men and women have passed from the scene in recent years. Who will take their places? True, more people are trying to write than ever before, but talent is still rare and the writer still must learn his craft, as few newcomers nowadays seem willing to do. Fame, riches and the happiness of achievement await the new men and women of power." A Chance to Test Yourself — FREE The Newspaper Institute of America offers a free Writing Aptitude Test. Its object is to discover more men and women who can add to their income by fiction and article writing. The Writing Aptitude Test is a simple but expert analysis of your latent ability, your powers of imagination, logic etc. Those who pass this test are qualified to take the famous N.I.A. course based on the practical New York Copy Desk Method which teaches you to write by writing! You work at home, in leisure time, constantly guided by experienced writers. Soon you acquire the coveted "professional" touch. Then you're ready to market your stories, articles and news items. Mail the Coupon Note Taking the Writing Aptitude Test requires but a few minutes and costs nothing. So mail the coupon now. Take the first step towards the most enjoyable and profitable occupation— writing for publication! Newspaper Institute of America, One Park Avenue, New York 16, N. i. (Founded 1925) FREE Newspaper Institute of America One Park Avenue, New York 16, N. Y. ! Send me, without cost or obligation, your Writing I 1 Aptitude Test and further information about writing i 1 for profit. \ Miss ) I Mrs. J | Mr, ) I Address | (All correspondence confidential. No salesman will I __________ call on you.) 35-C-785 | Copyright 1944 Newspaper Institute of America lef March enter like a lion or exif like one. /our hands are protected from chopping if you HAND CREAM For red, rough, chapped hands and arms. Marvelously effective for bands subject to frequent exposure. Ideal for children's arms and legs. An excellent powder base. Smooth brushless shave or aftershave cream. Will not smudge clothing or soil bedding. Neither sticky nor greasy. Jar, SSc plus tax at your beauty shop or cosmetic counter Also _ DEODORANT Subtly scented, effective perspiration retardant. Protects up to three days. Skin-safe. SOc plus tax. HOUSE OF LOWELL, Inc., Tipp City, Ohio ★ ★ ★ * ★ ★ ★ doing some serious thinking. One night he called a family conclave. "I want to go to dramatic school instead of college," he said. They stared at him as if he'd said he wanted to be a pink elephant. "But you've never acted'. Why didn't you try out for the dramatic club at school?" "I don't like it," Bob said grimly. "It scares me to death. But I'm going to be an actor if it kills me." He went. And hated it. The school was a good one in New York City, and Bob spent two years there. The most miserable two years of his life. His first stage appearance there was a night of horror. The role demanded that he appear in shorts, and even his legs were blushing. His one really big part at school was in a play about the Bronte sisters. He played their brother, a boy of eighteen or so, who was a thorough bad hat. Drank, took dope, had an affair with a married woman and made his sisters' lives miserable. There was one terrific scene where the boy went completely berserk. It was a swell scene for an actor, and Bob loved it. He'd played it several times, with all his fellow students congratulating him on his portrayal. Then they put on a special performance, with Elisabeth Patterson, the actress, in the audience. Came The Scene! Bob's mind suddenly went as blank as a sheet of paper. He just stood there, utterly wretched. At last he said, "I'm sorry, Miss Feagin," to the directress and walked offstage. For weeks afterward he went around in black despondency, but he didn't give up. After dramatic school, he played summer stock at Woodstock, New York, which was practically shouting distance from his home in Kingston. It was a good training ground, because it was near enough to New York so that they got Broadway actors and actresses in the group. And talent scouts showed up once in a while. There were a couple of them there the Saturday night Bob lost his temper. The play that night was a mystery called "Cuckoo on The Hearth." Bob portrayed a minister, one of the murder suspects. He was in the middle of a big scene with the heroine, which had the audience on the edge of their seats. Was he really the murderer? Was that a gun he was reaching for? There was a concerted gasp (heaven to an actor's ears) as he brought his hand slowly out of his pocket. And then. . . . face on the upstage wall . . . "Whe-e-e!" hiccoughed a drunken voice behind him. The supposedly solid "wall" opened, and a strange man staggered out. He blinked at the glare of lights and eyed Bob and the heroine reproachfully. "Wha' you doin' here?" he inquired. "Get outa my way." The audience, talent scouts and all, loved it. They went into gales of merriment, while Hutton burned. The scene, of course, blew higher than a kite. Bob's big chance was gone. He looked at the drunk, who was wearing an obviously new gabardine suit. Bob reached for a pail of water that someone had left just offstage. With a sure hand he hurled its contents. "He didn't even sober up, but it gave me a lot of satisfaction. And it sure took the creases out of that gabardine suit!" It was around this time that Bob began to work as a model for the Walter Thornton agency in New York. He commuted from Kingston, which is some fancy commuting since it's a two-and-a-half hour ride from New York. One day Bob and a bee-yuit-ful girl named Mona posed for a cover for Modern Romances. Bob was the big, strong type of hero in this one, and was holding Mona as she bent half over backwards. It would