thing," the judges sought originality, excellence in organization of
plot incidents, skill in characterization, power in moving
emotions--and, again, they differed over their findings. One member
would have awarded the prize to "La Guiablesse" on its original motif--a
ship is jealous of a woman--on its masterful employment of suggestion,
unique presentation of events, and on all the other counts. Another,
while recognizing the essential bigness of the tale, regards it as
somewhat crudely constructed and as extending the use of suggestion into
the mist of obscurity.

Or, take characterization. Mary Hastings Bradley's "The Fairest Sex"
represents, in the climax, a reporter's fiancee betraying the
whereabouts of a young woman who is, technically, a criminal. One of the
Committee held that, under the circumstances, the psychology is false:
others "believed" that particular girl did that particular thing.

Best narrative always compels belief: the longer the period of belief
the greater the story. This business of convincing the reader requires
more labour than the average writer seems to care about performing. Any
reader is willing to be held--for a time. But how many stories compel
recollection of plot and characters as indubitably a part of all that
one has met?

Too frequently the writer neglects the value of atmosphere, forgetful of
its weight in producing conviction. The tale predominantly of atmosphere
(illustrated in the classic "Fall of the House of Usher"), revealing
wherever found the ability of the author to hold a dominant mood in
which as in a calcium light characters and arts are coloured, this tale
occurs so rarely as to challenge admiration when it does occur. "For
They Know not What They Do" lures the reader into its exotic air and