Page:Weird Tales Volume 30 Number 02 (1937-08).djvu/124

 (as I have for ten years) to be head and shoulders above the field. Having read the controversy concerning covers with great interest, may I inform you that I have found your covers, as your stories, far surpassing those of other magazines? My favorite story was The Carnal God, with Clicking Red Heels running a close second."

Mrs. H. L. Phillips, of Quincy, Illinois, writes: "I seldom write such letters as this but I want to express my approval of The Carnal God by John R. Speer and Carlisle Schnitzer. It was a thrilling and different sort of story and very interesting. I would enjoy more by the same authors. The plot was quick and interesting and the style was clear. Your magazine in general is very interesting."

Robert J. Hoyer, of Chicago, writes: "Your new writer, John Speer, is a real find. His first story, Symphony of the Damned, was very good, but his latest in conjunction with Carlisle Schnitzer was even better. The Carnal God had everything: weirdness, excitement, and an interest that carried the reader from the first page to the last breathlessly. I was a bit sorry that Pierre Soret succumbed to the forces of Sudre at the close. I had begun to hope that had added another character to take its place beside Jules de Grandin, Northwest Smith, Jirel of Joiry, and the rest. But in Doctor Lamontaine I think you have captured a new character to become one of the magazine's perennial favorites. At least I hope so. I already find myself possessed of a strong liking for the bearded, burly, rum-guzzling doctor, who, apparently, fears neither man nor devil. Let's have more of Doctor Lamontaine soon, and keep him coming. I think he ought to click with most of our brethren. Now for a few words on your current serial, The Last Pharaoh. I'll frankly confess that the first installment didn't intrigue yours truly overly much, but the second installment, which I've just finished, more than makes up for it. If the following installments equal the second I'll be more than satisfied. As for Return to Earth—well, does satire belong in a magazine dedicated to weird stories? It might be a good mirror in which to see the frailties of modern man reflected, but personally, I read the magazine for weirdness and thrills and not for adverse criticism on myself and my fellow-men as a whole. It was rather well constructed though Where have you been hiding Clark Ashton Smith and C. L. Moore'lately? Don't you think that they're due for another yarn apiece soon? You know, even though we applaud and praise the newcomers, we can't forget our old stand-bys; and now, especially since we've lost two of them, Howard and Lovecraft, in so short a space of time, we ought to have more stories than usual from the rest of the older favorites. So come on, and give us a break." [Both Smith and Moore will shortly be represented in WT with splendid new stories; Moore's story will bring about a meeting of Jirel and Northwest Smith.—]

Mearle Prout writes from Stillwater, Oklahoma: "The last issue of brought me the sad news of the death of Lovecraft. Coming so soon after the death of Robert E. Howard, the tragedy is all the more painful. I did not have the good fortune to be personally acquainted with either of these men; but so great was my enjoyment of their work that our mutual loss seems a very personal one to me. I can only add my plea to that of your other readers that the complete works of these writers be published soon in book form."

N. J. O'Neail, of Toronto, writes: "It was with a shock like that of a physical blow, that I read yesterday (in the June issue of WT) that the Master of weird fiction has passed from us. It seemed impossible that death could ever touch even the mortal clay of Howard Phillips Lovecraft. As Wordsworth wrote of Milton: 'Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart; thou hadst a voice whose sound was as the sea, pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free.' It is with no disparagement to many able writers that I say that can never be quite the same to me again. It and Lovecraft were almost synonymous, to my mind; his work dominated every issue in which it appeared, and his spirit pervaded the pages, even when his pen was not represented there. My first move, usually, in opening a new copy of