Franklin W. Dixon of course.
The Hardy boys. Read by countless kids of my generation. I don’t know if they are still as popular – I assume they are. There were about 60 mysteries that I was aware of when I started reading. Then suddenly new ones started cropping up. I remember wondering whether another author had somehow acquired the copyrights to the series and started writing. But no, the author was still the same – Franklin W. Dixon.
Things aren’t always what they seem. This old article from the Washington post about the author of “The Hardy Boys” which is an eye-opener and a great read. I assume that this must be old news to many people – especially since Wikipedia’s entry for the Hardy boys has all of this information. But it was news to me.
The name “Franklin W. Dixon” was owned by a publishing company which created short plot outlines and outsourced the actual writing of the book to nameless authors who were never allowed to reveal that they wrote the book.
The first author, Leslie McFarlane, took this on as a way to earn some money until he established himself as a serious writer.
Unfortunately, the great depression, and the resulting poverty ensured that to make ends meet, he would continue to write 58 novels even though he hated doing it. To quote his diary:
“To write a chapter of a book without having to worry about character, action or plot would call for little more than the ability to hit the keys of a typewriter. . . . They were straightforward, cheap paperbacks for a public that would neither read nor relish anything better. . . . And besides, I would be under no obligation to read the stuff. I would merely have to write it.”
I loved the Hardy boys as a kid – and had read over 50 of them (pretty much everything that was available to me at that time). But even at the age of 11, me and my friends used to make fun of the writing. How Frank, Joe, Chet and the other characters were always introduced in the same style, how often a chapter ended with “Suddenly, they blacked out”, and other quirks that I no longer remember. It is interesting to note what McFarlane thought of this writing:
“It is dull stuff. . . . I will make a New Year’s resolution never to do another if I can help it.”
The Washington Post article is also very well written and worth reading even though it’s a bit long. I have pulled out some choice quotes from the article.
I envisioned the young Leslie McFarlane, a fine writer, hunched over his typewriter, babies at his feet, desperate for the money to buy the coal to stoke the furnace to survive another day, haunted by fear, humiliated by his failure, guilty over his gall at subjecting the people he loved to the reckless dream he chased, banging out another idiotic novel for a plutocrat who abused him.
If you are a bad writer, then writing poorly must be no big deal.
But if you are a good writer, writing poorly must be hell. You must die a little with every word.
And this on the fact that writing good fiction and making money are not directly correlated:
John Grisham’s sentences thud and crepitate all over the page, and he has become a literary tycoon. Edgar Allan Poe nearly starved.
See the full article
