The golden age of pulp magazines in the early 20th century allowed writers to make a solid living from short stories. Printed on cheap paper and meant to be discarded after reading, these magazines followed one simple rule: don't be boring. Pulp authors ignored critics and focused solely on readers, delivering pure escapism.

What did they know that modern storytellers have forgotten? Here are eight pulp storytelling secrets you can use to level up your fiction.

1. Write sharp repartee (the repost)

Dashiell Hammett, famed for The Maltese Falcon and The Thin Man, published frequently in Black Mask. He mastered quick-witted dialogue comebacks.

Examples:

  • Nora: “How do you feel?”
  • Nick: “Terrible. I must have gone to bed sober.”
  • Opponent: “I could have shot you, Mr. Spade.”
  • Spade: “You could have tried.”

The repost flips the previous line—contradicting, undermining, or reversing it. Shorter is almost always better: three words can outpunch three lines. These zingers also build character—Spade’s confident bravado shines through instantly.

2. Atmosphere over plot

H.P. Lovecraft, horror master and creator of The Call of Cthulhu, appeared often in Weird Tales. He insisted: “Atmosphere is the all-important thing… The final criterion of authenticity is not the dovetailing of a plot, but the creation of a given sensation.”

While his stories have tight plotting (mysterious murders, locked boxes, evil statues), he devotes huge space to mood. In one New Orleans voodoo scene, he paints ugly roots, Spanish moss, malformed trees, bobbing lanterns, muffled tomtoms, distant shrieks, and reddish glare. In horror especially, that creeping dread primes the reader far more than plot escalation alone.

3. Epic opening hooks

Max Brand (Frederick Faust), the “king of the pulps,” wrote westerns for Western Story Magazine. His openings grab instantly.

From Range Jester: “Three men came over the horizon. All three were headed for Lumis, and one of them was to die before morning.”

This is foreshadowing (specific future info with mystery—who dies? how?) that also creates general foreboding (unease). Pulp lesson: start fast, hook hard, and use foreshadowing to make readers unable to put the book down.

4. Escalate the energy

E.E. “Doc” Smith, space-opera pioneer (Galactic Patrol in Astounding Stories), constantly raised scale and stakes. Weapons and rockets had “indescribable” power—right when you think it can’t get bigger, it does.

His prose bursts with energy: 529 exclamation points in Galactic Patrol alone! Over-the-top? Maybe. But energy matters. Writers like Jonathan Safran Foer and Tom Wolfe earned praise for the same quality. Sentences should crackle with life—even if you use far fewer than 529 exclamation marks.

5. Use verbal sparring (flighting)

Robert E. Howard, creator of Conan the Barbarian (Weird Tales), employed “flighting”—precursor to rap battles. Characters traded witty, poetic insults in a verbal showdown.

Howard let them say exactly what they thought—bold, brash, brutal. It externalizes conflict and makes it delicious for readers. Whenever possible, let characters trash-talk and verbally one-up each other.

6. Blend genres fearlessly

C.L. Moore, a leading female pulp writer (Weird Tales, Northwest Smith, Jirel of Joiry), fused science fiction, fantasy, horror, and romance seamlessly. Genres weren’t separate boxes—they were colors on a palette.

Shambleau is sci-fi on Mars, yet packed with eroticism, horror, and mythic Medusa-like elements. Black God’s Kiss mixes sword-and-sorcery with horror. Takeaway: trust your story’s emotional logic over rigid genre rules. Let horror bleed into sci-fi, or fantasy into noir.

7. Prime-level description

Raymond Chandler, father of hard-boiled detective fiction (The Big Sleep, Black Mask), excelled at description—especially smiles in Farewell, My Lovely:

  • “A dry, tight, withered smile. A smile that would turn to dust if you touched it.”
  • “The executioner’s smile when he came to your cell to measure you for the drop.”
  • “He was doing an awful lot of smiling that day. Using up a whole week’s supply.”

Don’t just mimic Chandler’s clichés—steal these small, vivid details that make prose pop.

8. Surprise at chapter ends

Edgar Rice Burroughs (A Princess of Mars in All-Story) frequently ended chapters with shocks: a monster arrives, an ape-thing grabs John Carter, a beautiful prisoner signals, a romance begins, a chest stabbing—will he survive?

This is pulp essence: fight tooth and nail for the reader’s attention, page after page. Chapter-ending surprises force the next turn. Use sparingly, though—overdoing it becomes predictable.

The pulp era was a glorious heyday of storytelling. Steal these tricks, adapt them to your style, and write with boldness.

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