Wait, no, no I am not. She scares the shit out of me. If I was at one end of a dark alley and she were at the other, nothing except Chuck Norris on my right would compel me to walk into the alley. Wait, do alleys have two ends? Or is an alley really a dead-end concept? Either way, it’s not Star Jones or Paula Abdul I’m linking to.
Graceful curtsey to Diane for the link.
And, in news related to Urban Fantasy, I hear word that Romantic Times has invited a UF author, Ilona Andrews, to participate in their Ask the Author series - which is, according to my knowledgeable source, ‘a sure sign of the inroads UF is making into the romance-reading public.’ Visitors can ask questions in the RT forum though you have to register first. Either way - the Urban Fantasy, it is everywhere. I’m still pleased about that.
And finally - oh joy, oh joy, oh what the crapping damn, the Harlequin Romance Report for 2008 has been released. This year: Confessions! Devoted to the “secrets of men and women around the world.”
I have to say, there are few things that befuddle me more than Harlequin. On one hand: every title is an eBook. That’s hands down smack your grandma brilliant.
On the other hand: they release reports that seem to invite and involve the reader in the business of romance in such a way that almost demands the reader relate personally to each and every item that emerges from HQ HQ.
Most publishers who issue a “report” preface it with the word “annual” and probably use words like “EBITDA.” Harlequin? They want to know if I receive sexually explicit text messages, or if I let myself go while in a relationship, like refraining from shaving my legs. According to their own description, the report is
intended to engage readers and the broader public in discussions about where romance is headed. The Report is distributed worldwide and presented in true magazine format complete with colour photos and articles covering topics such as hot travel destinations, celebrity rankings and romantic tips and advice.
What the…? It’s as if Harlequin is a full body experience, in addition to (or instead of) a corporation. They have the fiction issues each month, and now, alongside those books, there’s the nonfiction invitation to confess and participate in their version of the annual report, which alerts readers to the top male celebrity tell-all books we most want to read - number uno being Perez Hilton. (Oh, HELL no.)
After that side trip to the bizarre, there’s more: like the playlist of confessional tunes (and, also, Lindsay Lohan has a SONG? Oh, HELL no, hell NO.) which, if purchased, benefit Big Brothers, Big Sisters.
I think Perez Hilton might best symbolize the bizarre cat-chasing-its-tail logic of the entire HQ Report enterprise, which is one big what-the-fuck to me. He’s famous because he’s one of the people making celebrities more famous. He’s a celebrity because he reports on celebrities.
So as romance authors slowly become celebrities in their own right, Harlequin takes that increase a step further and brings readers into the limelight, even virtually. Harlequin readers don’t just read romances. Harlequin’s efforts to involve readers in multiple romance purchases, from music to paperbacks to ebooks to podcasts with editors, and in multiple venues of interacting with the publishing house not as place of business but place to hang out virtually, reinforces a primary involvement on the part of romance readers who previously (unless they review romances online, ahem) were largely a passive audience. With the HQ report, readers become more than readers because they read.
If the whole package weren’t so damn silly, it’d be brilliant. Or perhaps it’s brilliant merely because of the silly alone. Harlequin positions itself as The Central Location for everything romance. I just wish that the silly weren’t piled on like 6” of icing on a 1” cake. If the HQ Romance report were plotted on the New York Magazine Approval Matrix, it’d probably be far far left and far far down up: Lowbrow and Brilliant. Or maybe despicable.





03.10.08 at 10:50 AM