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If your life absolutely depended on it, could you write a readable and publishable novel in 27 hours? In early February of 1969, that was the task an editor at Midwood books foisted on Barry Malzberg, then a 29-year-old rising star in the seedy world of the paperback quickie. Midwood specialized in soft-core erotic fiction, often with a sapphic bent. Over the previous year, Malzberg had proven his chops by knocking off seven novels for Midwood, writing under the pen names M.L. Johnson and Mel Johnson titles like I, Lesbian and Nympho Nurse. The editor was in a jam: He had promised the publisher too many titles, one of which he was planning on writing himself, called Diary of a Parisian Chambermaid, but the deadline loomed terrifyingly close as he had to prepare for a vacation in Argentina.
The editor asked Malzberg if he could deliver the book in a few days. Malzberg, full of the impudence of youth, replied, “Try me.”
On February 13, Malzberg sat down at the typewriter at 8 am and started banging away at his top rate of 60 words a minute, which gave him between 3,000 to 4,000 words an hour. Malzberg paced himself, taking time off to eat, go for a few walks, and sleep. He finished the book the next day, appropriately enough Valentine’s Day, at 11 am. From start to finish, the novel took him 27 hours, with 16 of those feverishly pecking at the typewriter. The book was duly published under the pen name Claudine Dumas and Malzberg collected his fee of $1,500, giving him 2.5 cents a word for a 60,000-word opus. Malzberg worked, he said, “at an hourly wage rate that would astonish even a teamster.”