egoboo n.

But I want U all to know that the entire evening at Burbee’s was a farce, & I stand aghast at the lengths to which some editors will stoop (& he has just the build for it) for a scrap of ego-boo. It is my considerd opinion that Chas (Droll) Burbee did wittingIy conspire with malice aforethot & intent to ego-inflate, to invite the Efjay of Akkamin, Alva Rogers, Vic Clark & the Laney ménage, to his domicile.

[Replying to the query ‘Does anyone have a science-fiction book written in French? If so, I’m in the market.’] (Oui, mon soldat, j’ai quelques romans fantastiques dans la langue française [...] Unfortunately, The Garage does not carry any of these items in duplicate, so the foregoing stf-tease will have to be attributed to a touch of ego-boo.)

The warm glow of righteous egoboo arising usually makes the character feel quite kindly towards me—and of course I’m not proud; I don’t mind someone’s going to a good deal of trouble for me. Only trouble is, such a procedure knocks me out of my ego-boo. Ho hum.

Well after the pile of ego-boo I got in the Oct. issue I just couldn’t let it slip by without telling you what I think of this much heralded issue.

Dear Sir: Time, tide and publishers wate for no man, so if I expect to get my monthly dose of ego[-]boo I had better get at it. It really does serve a perpose, I keep telling myself. By interesting the pasifans that write me in ative fandom, I draw in a little new blood.

Being a space pilot has—well, a certain egoboo. You find yourself invited here and there by people who have never been any farther out of new York than Hackensack, or maybe no farther out of Chicago than Evanston.

This is often done for purposes of egoboo (ego-boosting activity).

I am not convinced that the membership of the SFRA should be subsidizing egoboo, and I doubt that any would-be assistant professor will really be helped by this type of publication.

It’s great for egoboo, but nice to meet your readers, too.

Had she ever read any blog comments that even suggested homicidal tendencies? Any off-the-wall remarks on her twitter feed? Nothing came to mind. ‘No. I don’t know who is reading my blog here in Osaka. I honestly wasn’t aware of the number of hits. I used to compulsively check my stats before my first novel sold; it was a way to stroke my ego. I stopped needing that kind of egoboo when I got my first check.’