I am at a sort of standstill in writing—disgusted at much of my older work, and uncertain as to avenues of improvement. In recent weeks I have done a tremendous amount of experimenting in different styles and perspectives, but have destroyed most of the results. The one tale I have finished—“The Thing on the Doorstep”—is now starting on a circulation round which will include you. You’ll get it from Smith, and can forward it to Price. During the summer the Knopf firm broached the idea of issuing a book of my stuff, but it all fell through like the Putnam fiasco of 1931. More recently a man in Asotin, Wash.—one F. Lee Baldwin—has proposed the publication of my “Colour Out of Space” as a separate booklet. I have gladly acquiesced, though I doubt if much will come of the matter.
DESCRIPTION: In a letter to his friend and fellow writer Robert E. Howard, Lovecraft expresses his dissatisfaction with his “older work” and laments his inability, despite his best efforts, to write anything better.
CITATION: Lovecraft, H. P. “To Robert E. Howard.” 2 Nov. 1933. A Means to Freedom: The Letters of H. P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard. Edited by S. T. Joshi, David E. Schultz, and Rusty Burke, vol. 2, Hippocampus Press, 2009, pp. 654-86.