The 1930s and 1940s were a vibrant, seminal time for a gigantic
audience of eager readers, probably the largest per capita
audience of readers in American history. The magazine racks were
chock-full of publications with ragged trims, garish cover art,
cheap brown pulp paper, low cover prices—and the most excitement
you could hold in your hands.
"Pulp" magazines, named for their
rough-cut, pulpwood paper, were a vehicle for more amazing tales
than Scheherazade could have told in a million and one nights.
Set apart from higher-class "slick" magazines, printed on fancy
glossy paper with quality artwork and superior production
values, the pulps were for the "rest of us," adventure story
after adventure story for people who liked to read. Pulp fiction
authors were no-holds-barred entertainers—real storytellers.
They were more interested in a thrilling plot twist, a horrific
villain or a white-knuckle adventure than they were in lavish
prose or convoluted metaphors.
The sheer volume of tales
released during this wondrous golden age remains unmatched in
any other period of literary history—hundreds of thousands of
published stories in over nine hundred different magazines. Some
titles lasted only an issue or two; many magazines succumbed to
paper shortages during World War II, while others endured for
decades yet. Pulp fiction remains as a treasure trove of stories
you can read, stories you can love, stories you can remember.
The stories were driven by plot and character, with grand
heroes, terrible villains, beautiful damsels (often in
distress), diabolical plots,
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