Page:Futuria Fantasia fall 1939.djvu/19

19 CONVENTIONAL NOTES' by the editor

or the report on THE S.F.L. BALL GAME score; 27 sprained ankles to 3 cracked knees.

Ross Rocklynne: Tall, freckled, red haired, pleasent looking, good-natured and humorous -- that is Rocklynne -- and, by the way, in real life he spells it Rock lin. Makes the ideal traveling companion. Continually clicking away with his candid camera. Is versed in many subjects -- likes plots about gigantic ideas, such as THE MOTH, giant men, and THE MEN AND THE MIRROR with an amorphous reflector, while JUPITER TRAP gave us a giant siphon. Rocklynne, 26, looks 22 or younger. Favorite expression, when agreeing with anyone is, "That's right." Spending most of my time after the convention with Ross, painting the town a delicate pink, I found that he is now trying a bit of Weird writing which has been unsuccessful, and some Western concocting - ditto. Ross is quite different than his characters Deveral and Colbie. Somehow I had imagined a Rocklynne with a sharp gaunted face and bulging muscles -- I found, instead, a good example of what mite be called typical college species number #569Z, a cross between science and wit, well mixed and jelled in an Empire State tall body. Lives in CincinnattiCincinnati [sic]. His characters, Colbie and Deveral, are two of the most consistent and popular guys in s.f. today, according to Campbell.

Charlie Hornig: The dark horse who says neigh to every manuscript I write for him. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, dark-skinned fiend who deals from the bottom of the manuscript pile over at Science-fiction. He has just learned to speak English during the past week and now he finds it much more fun picking out the manuscripts instead of leaping into a pile of them and bobbing up with one between his teeth. Makes lousy speeches. Is a human dynamo and expert guide to anyone in Manhattan. Makes money on the side selling shoestrings on the I.R.T. between the Bronx and Coney Island. Father was a toupee manufacturer which makes Charlie hair to a big-wig's fortune. Thanx, Charlie, for your presence in New York to guide me around. And I just LOVE Science Fiction! (paid adv. )

Impressions cawt short: John w. (werewolf) Campbell, a scientific theory in a potato sack suit with high rubber boots to match.

Julius Schwartz and Groucho Marx look-alikes.

Mort weisinger, a plump smile.

A. Merritt, the man on the billboards with a mug of Milwaukee beer in his hand. Jovial, glasses, chubby. Not a bit mysterious.

Forrest J. Ackerman, dressed in future garb at convention, looking like a fugitive from a costume shop.

Willy Ley, a pair of thick-lensed glasses with an accent. Lowndes -- moustache and gold tooth - double feature, Leslie Perry -- Madame Butterfly with bangs.

Henry Kuttner, a voice from a pile of cigarettes. Morojo, short and sweet, commonly referred to as the VOICE OF MIDGE. Sykora, nervous breakdown with hair. Moskowitz, human fog-horn; following his opening speech New York gripped by earth tremors. Wollheim, Communist, born in a revolving door, belives in revolutions, get it? Or do you? Sykora, Moskowitz, Taurasi -- three little pigs. Manly Wade Wellman -- the human JELL-O! Kornbluth, a well-padded belch, Swisher, massive literary Babe Ruth, king of so-what! Robert J. Thompson, the leaning tower of Pisa wired for sound.