The nineteenth century was an important and productive period in the United States for popular literature, thanks to the rise of pocket-sized dime novels and weekly illustrated “story papers” that combined all the serialized fiction, gossip, jokes, art, and intrigue that a reader could want. In contrast to what people mostly thought of as “literature” at the time—structured, serious, and artistically edifying—these quick-and-dirty publications were designed to cater to the public taste as well and as fast as possible. In that way, dime novels and their extended family of (guilty?) pleasures boosted the idea of pleasure reading in America and elevated the role of the audience in driving mainstream American entertainment.
These popular titles went by a handful of names and formats: story papers, dime novels, and nickel weeklies, to name a few of the most prominent types. These were published at different times in the nineteenth century but had certain things in common: they were inexpensively printed, were traded in excitement and adventure, and, thanks to their affordability and a rising literacy rate, were very, very popular.
Hundreds of titles appeared from the Civil War period onward, among them the New York Ledger and Beadle’s Dime Novels. Readers had their choice of exciting genres, from horror and crime fiction to college fiction and the adventures of avenging women. Dime novels provided a forum for women authors and were often a means for famous figures to write popular adventure, either under their own name or an address book’s worth of pseudonyms. These publications were an amalgam of bite-sized pop pleasures—and while adults loved them, it’s especially remarkable to note that many, for the first time, were specifically written for and marketed to children.
Papers like Frank Leslie’s Boys of America, Pleasant Hours for Boys and Girls, and Happy Days weren’t just something to occupy young readers, but they acted as an invitation into a no-adults-allowed participatory community of fandom. Story papers featured regular contests, puzzles, Q&A features, and letter sections, providing a venue in which children could, for a little while, feel empowered and independent. Author Sara Lindey called story papers a method by which young boys could “write themselves into adulthood.” (The audience, at least explicitly, was very often boys at this time—though papers often acknowledged that a sister, friend, and family members were of course welcome to pick up and enjoy the issue, and many did.)