Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

This morning I had breakfast with author Lisa Jackson, her assistant and her publicist, who is also my neighbor – thus I was on my best behavior. In classic Pittsburgh fashion the breakfast buffet was the best deal, and featured every breakfast product known to woman. Since breakfast is generally my favorite meal to eat in restaurants, I was very happy. Plus there was coffee.

So after everyone at our table got their healthy breakfast and I had more coffee, we talked about regional accents, small towns in the west, small towns in the south, how many traffic lights qualify for small town status, and how to get to outer parts of Pittsburgh.

Then we started talking about author celebrity, and Jackson had some really interesting thing to say about promotion, the internet, and blogging.

Jackson writes suspense and romantic suspense, and told me about her earlyefforts to promot herself and her books, and how she figured out that authors nowadays often do have to promote themselves as well as, or as an accessory to, their books. As I said during breakfast, it used to be that movies were marketed based on the story and then mentioned the actors in it. Now, the movie is often marketed as a vehicle for fans to see their favorite actor or actress. The individual is as important as the created product – and authors are marketing their books following much the same pattern.

Lisa: About 10 years ago, I was paying attention to the sales for my books, and I realized I needed to do something to push my career. I could not let my next book slide in sales. So I sent myself on tour. I went to places I could drive to, where I had friends I could crash with, and I hired a publicist I couldn’t really afford, and it really seemed to make a difference. The book did well – it could have also been due to the cover, the timing, whatever, but sending myself on tour definitely didn’t hurt.

But authors have to be very proactive. Name and title often appear in equal size on the book cover. And readers don’t ask “What books do you read?” They ask “Who do you read? The name and the backlist behind it are compared to other names when readers talk about romance – and mysteries, and suspense, etc.

By the power of Greyskull, the Random Integer Generator hooked me up with some righteous digits. Behold, the winners in The Accidental Demon Slayer giveaway:

1: Kimberly D

17: jenifer

50: Dorilys

82: Christine J

106: KristenMary

Congratulations to the winners! And thanks to Angie Fox and Dorchester (known as “The Dorch” in my house) for a spiffy interview and spiffy prizes! 

Several people have emailed me about Gaia online, which Jennifer says is like “mangagied Second Life game for tweens.” Already I am mystified and sure that my description will get something wrong, so feel free to correct me.

Seems their August promotion, or collectible, is all about romance novels. Old skool romances, with all the accompanying tropes and stereotypes therein. If you’re a Gaia participant, you can star in your own romance novel with their ‘Lusty Scoundrel:’ Stand in front of a beautiful sunset with a swooning hunk or maiden by your side, then butter yourself up so that every muscle and curve glistens in the light. So you can be either the chick or the dude, which ought to send those who focus on the question of which character readers identify with most into spasms of joy.

In their newsletter announcing the new options, they include excerpts from “Lusty Scoundrel,” and another “novel,” “War of the Warlords.” The Lusty excerpt is kind of a hoot:

She slapped Beresford hard across the face, her gloved hand breaking like a velvet wave upon his violently outcropping cheekbone. “But what of Rodrigo? What of my marriage, my family, my delicately perfumed bosom?” Beresford’s baritone laughter echoed through the masculine caverns of his barrel-like chest. “Forget Rodrigo,” he commanded, clutching Heloise even tighter against his glistening, rippled thorax. “Rodrigo may be rich and almost equally as handsome as I, but there’s one thing he can never give you.” Slowly, Beresford’s rugged, stable-worn hands began to palpate the blushing flesh of Heloise’s shoulders. “Really good backrubs,” he bellowed; “I got a certificate from the city college!”

What the...?

Hastur is looking for a Cartland she read in German, and her account of the story is laden with the awesome. She writes:

Dear Ladies, I am at your mercy.

It’s a Barbara Cartland book I’m looking for. I’ve no idea when it came out. I gave my only copy to someone a million years ago - and that copy was in German, so I have no idea what the English title was. Given Barbara’s epic life span, it could’ve been published somewhere between the 1920s and the 1990s.
The story:

Red-haired girl comes back to her uncle’s house from having left a governessing job at some lecher’s house (he was a Marquis). Back home, she finds her cousin engaged to an aspiring politician who is up for promotion and needs a wife. She and the cousin (one red-haired, the other blond) swap places at the wedding (wtf?). The cousin elopes with a dashing officer, who takes her to India, while the redhead marries the politician - who was a baronet, thinking of it. Sir Something.
The aspiring politician eventually finds out who he’s married and wants to dump the chica by sending her to Italy, but she is unusually spirited for a Cartland heroine and tells him to show some British stiff upper lip or else she’ll ruin his career.

They take off for his estate, she finds out he’s not such a bad dude after all, just tortured by his past, and after a while, he too wants to get into her frilly knickers. After he tries it, she bashes him over the head with a chandelier (a CARTLAND heroine!!11one!) and runs away to London thinking he is dead. In London, she runs into her former employer (the ole Marquis deLech). After running away from him, she makes up her mind she does love her hubby and goes back, the solution to all his issues in her hand luggage.

They confess their undying love for each other. I think there was no obligatory two-line sexing at the end of this novel. Not sure, though.
The reason I really want to read this book again is that this girl was so unusually spunky for a Cartland heroine, who told the hero to stuff it and did not admire him from the start although he was such a hot specimen and all. If anyone remembers this book, please do tell me!

Over at the LA Times book blog, Carolyn Kellogg examines the dilemma of cover art, and making sure that literary fiction novels sell ... perhaps at the expense of being taken seriously from a visual perspective.

Citing evidence such as GalleyCat’s side by side comparison of Sue Hepworth’s Zuzu’s Petals, and Bookninja’s contest to recast classic novels to appeal to popular markets like “romance, chick lit, thriller, scifi, fantasy, celebrity kids, etc”, Kellogg’s entry follows a 7 October article in The Independent that questions whether authors are being asked to “dumb down” their work to appeal to a larger readership.

Here’s a cool charitable opportunity, should you have a serious hankering to tell the world about your favorite pair of shoes. I have to ask what my favorite pair might be… probably Danskos. I’d give up a lot of things, including breakfast and that magic yogurt I love, to spend every day in Danskos. But then, my feet are lesbians. They only tolerate comfortable shoes.

However, I can totally write a review that will fund a charity.

So, how does reviewing shoes translate to charitable work? Read on.