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The Healing Power of Poetry, by Dr. Smiley Blanton (Crowell; $3.95). The author, perhaps the only positive-thinking psychiatrist in the country, is the Rev. Norman Vincent Peale's trusted associate. Says Dr. Peale: "Actually, this book is but another means by which this kindly doctor loves people into improved health."
The Prostitute in Literature, edited by Harold Greenwald and Aaron Kirch (Ballantine; 50¢). A paste-up of teasers about such shady ladies as Thais and Fanny Hill, which ends, to the sure stupefaction of all prurient teenagers, with the nighttown episode from Ulysses.
1,000 Inspirational Things, compiled by Audrey Stone Morris (Hawthorn; $4.95). This, the Hawthorn brochure announces reverently, is a companion column to 1,000 Beautiful Things and 1,000 American Things.
That Certain Something, by Arlene Francis (Messner; $3). Blather about how to be absolutely fascinating, including a chapter called "Charm Begins at Home—and Keeps on Going," another called "Twenty Short Cuts to Charm" (non-authors like to number their nonsense), and a questionnaire called a Charmometer, which asks such questions as "Do you plan one small thing each day to make your life more pleasant?"
Once Upon a Dream, a Personal Chat with all Teenagers (Bobbs-Merrill; $2-95), by Patti Page. Blather on how to be absolutely fascinating, although young. Singer Page's chapter on early marriage begins, "Please, Dear Hearts and Gentle People, not yet—not till you think it over. Do you know the statistics on adolescent marriages?'' There is no advice on how old one should be before attempting a book.
Selections from the Speeches (1900-1959) of Murray Seasongood (Knopf; $4.50), compiled and with a foreword by Agnes Seasongood. Orator Seasongood was mayor of Cincinnati from 1926 to 1930 and seems to have been a fairly fluent afterdinner speaker, but this cannot explain why the doughty firm of Knopf decided to set down his thoughts in Electra type, designed by W. A. Dwiggins.
There's Good News Tonight (Doubleday; $3.95) by Gabriel Heatter. The noted radio soothsayer, with some editorial assistance, provides an unnecessary autobiography, which follows the standard matrix for a show-business memoir: Rags. Youthful Striving, Nervous Breakdown. Riches, Philosophy. The last is summed up thus: "Each, in his way, packs his bag and goes on. It's a golden journey, strewn with rocks and jewels. Who would have it any other way?"
The Question Man (Geis; $1.50), by Steve Allen. Another picture book, with a gimmick that grows rather old by the last page: answer first, then incongruous question to fit. Sample: Answer—"Butterfield eight three thousand." Question—"How many hamburgers did Butterfield eat?" There follows a picture of Non-Author Allen looking queasy.