on one or two plays with a vague promise of good parts in plays not yet written, no matter who the author. The plan, as I guess I've told you before, is to do two plays a season.
So you see how this Cycle has me involved in a hell of a lot of labor— and costly time—before I can expect any returns of any kind. You will also appreciate that I have many low days of O'Neill heebie?jeebies when I feel very old and tired, and doubt myself and my work, and wonder why in hell something in me drove me on to undertake such a hellish job when I might have coasted along and just written some more plays, as a well?behaved playwright does.
But enough of that.
I foresaw that you would probably get some tart retorts from the Middle?West on your article. Mid?Westerners are very sensitive people—that is, in one respect.
Love to you and Betty from us—and a sweet kiss from Blemie to Cabot.