going back to my Ph.D work. I was out of the Army, as a corporal, on July 26.
'Evidence' was the only story I wrote while in uniform.
As soon as I got out of the Army I made arrangements to return to Columbia, after an absence of a little over four years, and to resume my work toward my Ph.D. under Professor Dawson.
There was still no question in my mind that chemistry was my career, and my only career. In the four years of my marriage I had written nine science fiction stories and one fantasy and had sold them all - but all the sales had been to Campbell.
Since Unknown had died, I was terribly conscious that Astounding might die as well. If that happened, or if Campbell retired, I was not at all sure that I could continue selling.
The situation looked better postwar than prewar, to be sure. During the first four years of my marriage, I had earned $2667 as a writer, or an average of under $13 per week. This was about half again as well as I had been doing in my bachelor days, even though I was writing fewer stories.
The word rate had doubled, you see, and there was even the hope of subsidiary rights - extra money for already sold stories. 'Blind Alley' had already placed in an anthology, and on August 30, 1946, only a month after I got out of the Army, I discovered that I had made a second such sale. A new science fiction anthology, 'Adventures in Time and Space,' edited by Raymond J. Healey and J. Francis McComas, was to include 'Nightfall' and I was to receive $66.50 for that.
There was even more than anthologization sales. In that same month of August, the September 1946 issue of Astounding hit the stands with 'Evidence' (Had I but known when writing it that by the time it was published I would be safely out of the Army!) Almost at once I received a telegram asking for the movie rights. The gentleman interested turned out to be none other than Orson Welles. In great excitement, I sold him the radio, television and movie rights to the story on September 20, and waited to become famous. (I couldn't become wealthy, because the entire payment in full was only $250.)
Unfortunately, nothing happened. To this day, Mr. Welles has never used the story. But the check was certainly useful toward paying my tuition.
Despite everything, though, it still seemed quite out of the question that I could ever possibly depend on writing for a year-in, year-out living, especially now that I was married and hoped, eventually, to have children.
So back to school it was, with a small savings account to serve as a cushion, with some veterans' benefits supplied by the government, and, of course, with the hope that I would make a little extra cash writing.
In September I wrote still another 'positronic robot' story, 'Little Lost Robot,' racing to complete it before the fall semester started and I grew immersed in my work. Campbell took it promptly and it appeared in the March 1947 issue of Astounding. Eventually, it and 'Evidence' were included in /, Robot.
Once the semester started, it became difficult to find time to write. Toward the end of 1946, I managed to begin another 'Foundation' story, 'Now You See It-.' I finished it on February 2, 1947, and submitted it to Campbell on the fourth. By that time I was rather sick of the 'Foundation' series and I tried to write 'Now You See It -' in such a way as to make it the last of the series.
Campbell would have none of that. I had to revise the ending to permit a sequel, and on the fourteenth he took it. It appeared in the January 1948 Astounding and eventually made up the first third of my book Second Foundation.
In May 1947 I wrote a story that, for the first time in over two years, was neither a 'Foundation' story nor a 'positronic robot' story. It was 'No Connection.' I submitted it to Campbell on May 26, and it was accepted on the thirty-first.
No Connection
Raph was a typical American of his times. Remarkably ugly, too, by American standards of our times. The bony structure of his jaws was tremendous and the musculature suited it. His nose was arched and wide and his black eyes were small and forced wide apart by the span of said nose. His neck was thick, his body