Kenneth Hopkins and anonymous lady |
British writer, Kenneth Hopkins, created the excellent opportunity to write that novel. He'd been a humor writer for Punch after WWII until a round of economizing cost him his position. He decided he had enough money to last two years and, with his wife's agreement, he took that time to write and sell a mystery.
Hopkins was the first visiting writer I ever encountered at a university. SIU brought Hopkins over to teach one section in creative writing. First day of class, Hopkins announced there'd be only two grades in his course—A or F. If you completed a long project—poetry ms, novel or play—you earned an A. If you didn't complete a long project, you got the F. He never held another class but said he'd be available in his office if we gave him a call first. I sat my ass down and typed an 11 chapter novel in 11 weeks to earn my A. (The boundless energy of youth, eh?) Mr. Hopkins liked the novel so well he took it too England to show his editors. They said, "Have Mr. Thomas write a couple more novels, and he'll be able to rewrite and sell this." The story about what came between me and those "couple more novels" would fill a biographical chapter. Or two.
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