I was delighted to learn from your letter that your health has been steadily improving. I pray that the trend will continue until you feel like playing polo once again.1
Your comments about the highbrow attitude of the London press gave me a chuckle.2 On the chance that I have never before told you about some of my experiences when I wrote a war book in 1948, I am hoping you will find the following of some interest.3
Starting in 1945--and even earlier--publishers kept nagging at me to write a book. I flatly declined, and sustained this attitude for some three years until finally two publishers--good friends of mine--formed a temporary partnership with the avowed intention of getting me to put my pen to paper.
Their arguments, with me always sustaining the negative, were long and sometimes even heated. My stand was something about as follows:
"Publishers seem interested only in the contentious and argumentative. They love to have an author belittle and castigate an associate, who is always blamed for failure and never credited with success. Apparently this is the only type of book that has any appeal. For my part I will having ‘nothing to do with such things and so a book is out.’"
Regardless of the remuneration they offered, which was considerable, I told them that to write the kind of book that appealed to publishers would, from my point of view, be despicable even if it were successful; on the other hand, to write the kind I would think suitable, would result in an unsuccessful effort and therefore I would be the recipient of their charity. To this they replied that they were not interested in a contentious or self-glorifying book and agreed that criticism of others should not be put into it.
They argued that the mass of the American people was concerned with the history of the war as I saw it. The offer of these particular publishers was based, they said, on the belief that a book accurately stating the facts would be far more acceptable than one seeking to gain a great distribution by distortion, untruth or bitter--even if honest--criticism. They felt that authors of that time (1947) were writing quickly and carelessly in the hope of capitalizing on the familiarity of the public with dramatic characters and incidents. They argued that such books, if unanswered during the lifetime of the principal actors, would become regarded in later years as "source material" and thus would become accepted as authentic history. It was this last argument that persuaded me to get my own story down on paper.
So far as the argument was concerned, the publishers won on both counts. By our American standards the book had a fantastic sale and I think that no one is criticized in it so much as myself.
In one passage I did point out that in the very early days (1942) I was somewhat skeptical of Brookie’s capacity, but in the same paragraph I said that I later learned that my misgivings were based solely on his mannerisms and I came to admire and respect his military judgment.4
With regard to Monty, the most severe thing I said was that Monty was described best by a letter he wrote to me--and I published the letter.5 I gave him high marks in his conduct of what I called the "prepared battle group."6 So far as my memory serves me, there was not a word of other criticism and so I was quite pleased to find that the public was ready to buy the book in spite of what I thought was a lack of drama, argument and criticism.
Please convey my warmest greetings to Kathleen, and of course my continued wishes for your return to a state of vigorous health.7
With personal regard, As ever
