Okay, I’ll admit that I haven’t been following the latest kerflunkel in romanceland closely but I have seen a couple of posts related to it around. Most notably for me over on The Galaxy Express and The Misadventures of Super Librarian. I didn’t comment on either because, frankly, publishing issues are not of particular concern for me as a reader.
I did run across an article online this morning that I thought was interesting on the topic (and yes I know they’ve changed the name of the “project” already):
And as always with clichéd, formulaic novels, it’s harder than it seems to pull them off with any aplomb. Nonetheless, most people think they could write one, given the chance. Harlequin Horizons doesn’t so much give you the chance as suggest you spend months writing a book about a steamy love affair and then send it off with a cheque. If you’re lucky, you’ll see it somewhere on the internet in one of those slightly bleak moments in life when you Google your own name.
It’s all incredibly depressing – and we’re supposed to be talking about the uplifting power of love here. Let’s hope that despite the wranglings, the romantic novel continues to flourish, provide succour and entertainment – and, from time to time, a jolly good laugh.
Well, ain’t that the truth. So, maybe it isn’t always about the money after all, at least not for some of us.