This Week was a nationally syndicatedSunday magazine supplement that was included in American newspapers between 1935 and 1969. In the early 1950s, it accompanied 37 Sunday newspapers.[2] A decade later, at its peak in 1963, This Week was distributed with the Sunday editions of 42 newspapers for a total circulation of 14.6 million.
"It grew from a circulation of four million in 1935 to nearly 12 million in 1957, far outstripping other fiction-carrying weeklies such as Collier's, Liberty and even The Saturday Evening Post (all of which eventually folded)."[4]
American newspaper editors speak with survivors at a hospital in the newly liberated Buchenwald concentration camp, April 1945. Left to right: Norman Chandler, Los Angeles Times; William I. Nichols (leaning forward, center), This Week magazine; and Julius Ochs Adler, The New York Times.
In 1942, This Week cut its size down and eliminated run-overs onto back pages.[5] It also changed to including 52% articles and 48% fiction; at one time it had contained 80% fiction.[5]
William I. Nichols became editor of the magazine in June 1943, just before the death of Meloney the same month,[11] and a year later the magazine started to turn a profit.[9] In 1948, This Week surpassed the American Weekly as the American newspaper supplement with the largest advertising revenue.[9] Nichols turned the financial fortunes of This Week around by "shun[ning] anything controversial":
"I'm neither pious nor preachy, but my first principle is success and [decency] has paid off in success. You can bore a mass audience to death with acres of flesh. Why did burlesquedie?" — W.I. Nichols (1949)[9]
By 1963, This Week reached its highest circulation.[3]
Demise
Later, This Week was owned by Publication Corporation, which was taken over by Crowell, Collier & Macmillan in a January 1968 merger, but the magazine was "already fighting for survival".[citation needed]William Woestendiek, former editor of IBM's Think magazine and former city editor of The Houston Post, was brought in to revamp the editorial format. "We tried hard to turn out a better editorial product," an unnamed Crowell, Coller executive told The New York Times. "We succeeded in doing it, but nobody wanted it."[3]
The merged company
"began to subsidize the magazine last May [1969] in the hope of restoring circulation, build advertising and make it a self-sustaining enterprise by Aug. 1".[citation needed]
That effort was unsuccessful, and subscribing newspapers, with the then-total circulation of 9.9 million, were offered the opportunity to keep the supplement going by paying about $5 for 1,000 copies. The attempt was fruitless, said Fred H. Stapleford, president and publisher of United Newspaper Corporation, and he announced that the last number would be issued on November 2, 1969.[3] In a letter to the subscriber newspapers, he said:
I deeply regret having to advise you that the necessary circulation commitment cannot be attained. It is a pity that This Week, so long a distinguished member of the newspaper family, evidently has outlasted its economic usefulness to newspapers and advertisers ... We believe it would be foolhardy to continue publishing when all the vital signs are negative. — F.H. Stapleford (1969)[3]
A memorandum to the 160 This Week employees pledged that
"every effort would be made to find [them] jobs in other publications of Crowell, Collier, one of the nation's largest book publishing and educational business concerns."[3]
Cartoonist Stein was also This Week's Auto Editor, expanding his material into a book, This Week's Glove-Compartment Auto Book (Random House, 1964). Crockett Johnson created The Saga of Quilby: A ghost story especially devised for advertisers who stay up late (1955), a pamphlet designed to sell advertising space in This Week. A collection of cartoons[12] included a dozen profiles of the magazine's cartoonists and an article on cartoon devices and terminology by Mort Walker.
Many cartoons in This Week were devised by gagwriter Bob McCully. One writer noted about him:
McCully sends his cartoon ideas out on small 6×3½ inch cards, using a minimum of words. Here's how the card read which he submitted with an idea that eventually appeared as a cartoon in This Week magazine.
Scene: Four garbagemen are standing beside the garbage can in the backyard of a house. Each one is holding his cap in his hand. The lady of the house is standing nearby. She seems embarrassed as one of the garbagemen says:
Title: "... and so we're proud to announce that you've been selected as Miss Sanitary Garbage Can of 1949."[13]
