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International Bon Vivant and Raconteur

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What Happens When Dying Publishing Houses Need to Make Money Fast [Nov. 17th, 2009|01:46 pm]
International Bon Vivant and Raconteur
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Hey, amateur romance writers, still reeling from the latest Harlequin rejection informing you that your bodice-ripping masterpiece just didn't rip it up to their level? Wondering if your pirate/bandit/cruelly egotistical heir to an aristocratic fortune who is tamed by your heroine's passionate lovemaking just isn't roguish enough for the masses? Do you have so much money even in the Great Recession that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Then you're in luck!

Author Solutions has teamed up with Harlequin to form Harlequin Horizons, a new imprint for self-published romance authors. The imprint will recruit writers in two ways: authors whose manuscripts have been rejected by Harlequin will be made aware of the Harlequin Horizons option and authors who sign with Author Solutions will be given the opportunity to be published under the Harlequin Horizons imprint. According to an Author Solutions spokesperson, the imprint will offer special services aimed at the romance market, including unique marketing and distribution services. All services are on a pay-for-service basis.

No, friends, your eyes aren't deceiving you, it's true! You next rejection letter from Harlequin will tell you that your book just wasn't right for them but they'll still publish it if you pay them to. It's like every author's dream come true! I know you're reaching for your credit card right now, but wait, there's more!

You're wondering if this can get any better. Well, yes! Yes it can!

Author Solutions will handle all aspects of the venture, although Harlequin Horizons will exist as an imprint of Harlequin, and the publisher will be able to monitor sales and sign authors to a traditional imprint.

That's right, romance writers! After paying Harlequin to publish your book, they'll decide if it's selling well enough to sign you to a real publishing deal! It won't be hard for them, all they have to do is change the imprint logo on the cover, after all. No sweat. So don't worry that you might be causing them too much extra work! It's not like the advance Harlequin will pay you is likely to cover your self-publishing expenses anyway. Also, with a traditional contract they will ostensibly be able to make even more money off of you, in addition to what you already paid them, with a more publisher-friendly royalty schedule. Everybody wins! And by everybody, I mean Harlequin and Author Solutions!

I know what you're thinking. Jeez, I'm still putting Harlequin through such a hassle if they give me a real contract, what with having to pay to print the books themselves and all. I don't know if I want to be a bother. Don't worry. The average romance novel has such a short shelf life that odds are yours won't sell enough copies to catch Harlequin's eye anyway, provided your book even gets into bookstores, so the whole part about signing the self-published authors to a traditional imprint probably won't even come into play. Phew! Now you don't have to be a bother to anyone!

Like I said, everybody wins!
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: crazeyal
2009-11-17 07:44 pm (UTC)
Suddenly the calm chirping of the Cicadas was forced down, down and away as the Dock's whistle blew, and blew HARD! Steam rose, escaping with a force threatening to burst the dirtied copper. Vapor coalesced and dripped down the rugged pipe, adding yet more stains to the turgid form.

"A SHIP!!" uttered Lurlene.

"Noooow Miss St. Lovelace.." condemned the frail old woman "You doin' that EX-STRAP-POH-LATON ting yer daddy done warn yah bout..." her anger erasing years of voice lessons and buttock whippings.

The Matron of the Manor turned sharply to her Nanny and crossed her hands to her hips.

GO!
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[User Picture]From: nick_kaufmann
2009-11-17 08:23 pm (UTC)
"I will not have you speaking to me this way, Ol' Muddy!" Lurlene exclaimed. "A nanny should know her place!"

Ol' Muddy bowed her head. "Sorry, ma'am. I won't speak out of turn again."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ol' Muddy," Lurlene sighed, walking from the window to embrace her beloved, aged friend. "All this waiting, it's turned my head inside-out. What if my love isn't on that ship? I'll be forced to take awful Mr. Bloodworth's marriage proposal after all, or risk losing my ancestral home. And you know papa's spirit won't stand for that. He already throws dishes off the pantry shelves every midnight."

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Lurlene remembered Bloodworth had demanded an answer from her by one o'clock today. She glanced at the baroque grandmother clock standing by the door of her room for no real reason other than to serve its purpose at this moment. The clock read one!

"It's he! It's Bloodworth! Oh, Baldrick, won't you come and save me from this terrible fate!" she wailed.

"But, miss," Ol' Muddy said. "My dream, this is all of a part!"

Go!
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[User Picture]From: flemco
2009-11-17 08:29 pm (UTC)
The door opened with a most malodorous creaking sound, as it opened.

There, on the doorstep, stood a muscular, half-naked Indian Brave.

ALLEZ!
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[User Picture]From: nick_kaufmann
2009-11-17 09:14 pm (UTC)
Sparkling in the afternoon sun, as was the way with Indian vampires, he hefted Lurlene over his shoulder and onto his waiting horse. She kicked and pummeled him as he rode away from her home, but to no avail. "Oh, help me, Baldur, Baldrick, whatever your name is!" She had heard stories about the sexy terrible things these noble savages did to their female captives and had no doubt of the fate that this Brave was intent on plundering the treasures of her secret bits.

Suddenly, she heard the pounding of horse's hooves behind them. She craned her neck and saw a strong white steed riding hard after them, but it wasn't her beloved who rode upon its back, but Mr. Bloodworth! His cruel lips parted to reveal his clenched teeth, his strong jaw set in determination. His long black hair flowed behind him like the standard of an army battalion. In his haste, the buttons of his dress shirt had come undone, revealing his well muscled and non-threateningly hairless chest.

Go!
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[User Picture]From: flemco
2009-11-17 09:41 pm (UTC)
[I cry uncle and cannot continue. Lordy.]
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[User Picture]From: silviamg
2009-11-17 10:16 pm (UTC)
The sight of the naked man's chest hypnotized Lurlene. She felt herself grow faint.
"Help! Somebody save me!" she cried.
The maniacal laughter of Mr. Bloodworth echoed in her ears as she slipped into oblivion.

Go!
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[User Picture]From: mr_earbrass
2009-11-17 11:49 pm (UTC)
It was not the regular sort of oblivion, however, but something far sweeter, moister, a red velvet cake of an oblivion, with the tart aftertaste of raspberries and the void. In this confection of nothingness Lurlene of course saw nothing, as if her eyes were veiled in the sweet frosting of love instead of the horror glaze Mr. Bloodworth had so liberally applied. It was like being trapped in one of ol' Muddy's deserts, and if Lurlene could have unoblivioned herself for but a moment she would have again recanted the tone she too often took with her dear nursemaid.

Alas, now all was the diabetes-bane black of Bloodworth's oblivion, which in of itself would have given Lurlene pause if only she were not already so arrested, for should not the oblivion of her beloved be sweet, and the oblivion of a villain and cad like Mr. Bloodworth be bitter as lemons grown from soil fertilized with dead parents and watered with an orphan's tears? Could the tooth-rotting perfection of her current oblivion signify that perhaps her feelings for Mr. Bloodworth were of a different aisle of the confectioner's shoppe than she had previously believed? Thankfully, sweet though it was, Lurlene's oblivion was just that, and so she could not immediately confront this dire possibility. Then she woke up.

Go!
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[User Picture]From: johnbowker
2009-11-17 08:28 pm (UTC)
"I am a woman of my times, Muddy," Lurlene said angrily. "I wear a bodice, I listen to the right composers, and I know my letters. My father fears an educated female, the old fool. He's not ready for the future I represent."

She turned back toward the docks, her face softening into a look of simpering adoration.

"Do you think Baldur will like this dress?"
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