Today in pulp I look back at an amazing but slightly forgotten British publisher: a company that made a virtue of necessity and an art form out of amazement...
Badger Books!
John Spencer and Co was founded in London in 1946 by Samuel Assael and specialised in publishing original fiction, normally written to order by freelance writers using house aliases. Like many pulp publishers they paid a flat rate for copy – up to ten shillings per 1,000 words.
Initially Spencer focussed on story magazines in digest and pocketbook form: Tales of Tomorrow, Out Of This World and Supernatural Stories focussed on fantasy and sci-fi short stories. But the digest market was beginning to decline as the post-war paperback market began to boom.
So in 1954 Spencer tool the plunge and set up its own range of original paperback novels: Badger Books. Run from small offices in Hammersmith, London, half a dozen staff and two principle freelance writers managed to produce over 580 original books over 13 years!
Badger Books existed to fill a need: an insatiable desire for something cheap and original to read – preferably in book form – that was gripping Europe and the US after the war. An economic boom, a greater focus on leisure and an end to paper rationing had fired up the market.
Just as important were the hundreds of thousands of demobilised servicemen who had grown used to having cheap books to read during wartime and carried over the habit of reading into civvy street. The book buying market expanded at the same time that entry costs dropped.
That meant publishers like Badger needed stories – lots of them! They needed to publish a range of new titles every month at least. And the amazing thing about Badger was just how much of their output came from two amateur writers from very different backgrounds...
John Glasby was a research chemist for ICI, carrying out research on detonators and rocket propellants, when he began a side line in writing for Badger Books. Overall he had 300 stories published, covering western, sci-fi, spy, detective and hospital romances.
The Reverend Lionel Fanthorpe sold his first story to Spencer aged 17, and in between various other jobs he produced over 160 stories for Badger Books, mainly sci-fi and supernatural tales, sometimes produced in as little as three days.
To mask their lack of authors Badger used a huge range of house aliases: Victor La Salle, John E Muller, Karl Zeigfreid, Chuck Adams, Tex Bradley, Trebor Thorpe, D.K. Jennings and Pel Torro were some of the many disguises that Fanthrope, Glasby and a few other writers hid behind.
Badger also had a unique method of commissioning work. A book cover – normally painted by Henry Fox – would be sent to Glasby or Fanthrope, who would then come up with a title and quick synopsis. They would then turn that into a 45,000 word story, normally within a week.
Fanthrope’s approach to writing was to cover himself with a blanket and then, armed with a thesaurus, dictate his story into a tape recorder. Family members would type these up as he continued dictating and when he was close to 45,000 words he would rapidly end the novel.
The result was a unique stream-of-consciousness repetitive prose style: “He was disarmed, demobilised, defenceless, powerless. His exhaustion was complete; he was in a state of utter fatigue, complete collapse, and total breakdown… He fainted; he swooned; he passed into a coma.”
Some of Fanthrope’s stories were barely-disguised retellings of Shakespearian plays or Greek myths set in space. Others were outrageous padded to reach the required word length: 10 pages describing the moves in a chess game; paragraphs of synonyms to describe a moment of silence.
Supernatural Stories was the only digest magazine Badger Books kept going, producing over 100 editions including novel-length Supernatural Specials. Fanthrope wrote the majority of these stories, as well as most of the science fiction Badger produced.
Glasby focussed more on the westerns and war stories, producing over 160 WW2 novels and an almost equal number of western adventures. He also write the short-lived range of spy and crime novels Badger introduced in 1966 as an attempt to cash in on the James Bond market.
Many Badger books were translated into German, Italian and French and issued by other publishers to fill the needs of local markets. Vega Books – a US imprint owned by Les Aday that specialised in erotica – also published 14 Badger titles using Henry Fox’s cover art.
Badger Books was a formidable publishing machine, run on a shoestring but at its peak turning out a new book every week. However the boom couldn’t last, and by the mid-1960s sales began to decline. So in 1966 Spencer tried to diversify into comics.
Mick Angelo, former editor of Classics Illustrated, produced four titles for Spectre, mostly macabre horror tales similar to Fanthorpe’s Supernatural Stories. However sales were poor, as was the artwork and printing. Finally in 1967 Badger Books ceased publishing.
As for the writers John Glasby continued his career at ICI, eventually becoming head of Public Relations before retiring. The Reverend Lionel Fanthorpe became a head teacher, a weightlifting instructor and eventually a presenter on Fortean TV.
Badger Books didn’t last long and their books were not quite classics, but they boldly embodied the three main features of pulp fiction: sensationalism, an idiosyncratic writing style, and great haste! Alas we shall never see their like again.
More stories another time...
(And if you're in the mood why not write your own Badger book this week!
Just pick an image from the thread, think of a title and synposis, then speak your novel into your computer using speech-to-text with a thesaurus & a blanket over your head.
13 pages a day for 7 days...
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
Today in pulp: a tale of an unintentionally radical publisher. It only produced 42 books between 1968-9, but it caught the hedonistic, solipsistic, free love mood of the West Coast freakout scene like no other.
This is the story of Essex House...
Essex House was an offshoot of Parliament Press, a California publishing company set up by pulp artist Milton Luros after the market for pulp magazines began to decline. It specialised in stag magazines sold through liquor stores, to skirt around US obscenity publishing laws.
By the 1960s Parliament Press was already selling pornographic novels through its Brandon House imprint, though these were mostly reprints or translations of existing work. Luros was interested in publishing new erotic authors, and set up Essex House to do just that.
Today in pulp... one of my favourite SF authors: Harry Harrison!
Harry Harrison was born Stamford, Connecticut, in 1925. He served in the US Army Air Corps during WWII, but became disheartened with military life. In his spare time he learned Esperanto.
Harrison started his sci-fi career as an illustrator, working with Wally Wood on Weird Fantasy and Weird Science up until 1950. He also wrote for syndicated comic strips, including Flash Gordon and Rick Random.
Today in pulp... Blade Runner! Let's look back at the classic 1982 movie and see how it compares to original novel.
"It's not an easy thing to meet your maker..."
Blade Runner is based on Philip K. Dick's 1968 novel Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? However 'inspired' may be a better word, as the film is very different to the book.
In the novel Deckard is a bounty hunter for the San Francisco police. The year is 1992; Earth has been ravaged by war and humans are moving to off-world colonies to protect their genetic integrity. They are given organic robots to help them, created by the Rosen Association.
In the 1970s a fascinating engineering battle took place between America and Japan for control of the future. The prize was the world we live in now. And one of the key battles took place on your wrist.
This is the story of the digital watch...
'Digital' is a magical marketing word. Like 'laser' or 'turbo' it suggests progress, mastery and the future. People like those ideas. They like them enough to spend a lot of money on products that have them, especially if they can be a first adopter.
And so it was with the wristwatch. Electronic quartz watches were already a thing by the 1960s: an analogue movement driven by a quartz crystal resonator, powered by a small button battery.
But one American company was setting out on a new timekeeping odyssey...
Today in pulp... let's look back at a Shōjo manga artist whose work celebrated friendships between women: Jun'ichi Nakahara.
Jun'ichi Nakahara was born in Higashikagawa in 1913 and worked as an illustrator, a fashion designer and a doll maker. His work is highly regarded in Japan and he was a significant influence on modern manga art.
In the '20s and '30s Nakahara often drew for Shōjo no Tomo ("Girl's Friend") magazine. The style at the time was for demure, dreamlike imagery, but Nakahara added to this large expressive eyes, often reflecting the light.
Today in pulp I try to decipher 1980s Japanese street style, with the help of Olive: The Magazine for Romantic Girls!
This may involve frills...
Street style is an ever-changing mix of styles, brands, attitudes and poses with various influences. And you normally have to be in the right place at the right time to capture it.
Which is where magazines come in! Photograping, documenting and deconstructing fashion never goes out of style, and in the late 1970s Japanese youth had one key guide to help them: Popeye!