







by SB Sarah • Sunday, July 24, 2005 at 04:47 PM
Do you hear that soulful sucking sound? That slurrrrpy noise of happy indulgence? It’s not me eating ice cream; it’s the sound of corporate task forces sucking the creativity out of individual artists. Individual creativity, it is taking the nose dive, and it’s making me cranky.
The trend I speak of isn’t so much new as it is a development of an established trend. Did anyone else notice how the Sweet Valley High books were “Created by Francine Pascal” but “Written by Kate Williams?” Whatever happened to Kate Williams, anyway? She’s the one who spent years writing about the Pacific-blue depths of Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield’s eyes, and how they were a perfect size six (ugh ugh ugh). And yet the series was marketed as “Francine Pascal’s.” Ya think ol’ Kate ever got bitter about that?
And of course we know that V.C. Andrews’ books were written by committee after her death, thus enabling the ATF, or Andrews Task Force, to continue sucking the teat of majestic royalty. If she’s going to sell, she’s going to keep writing books - death can’t stop a profit.
Now, we have the teen girl series books, a new breed of young adult novels targeted at adolescent girls. From Gossip Girl to The Clique, to the tv show Roswell, Alloy Entertainment, a media force that makes publishing houses quiver in the knees with envy, has discovered the magic formula(s) for creating the new version of SVH serial young adult novels.
This article, which appeared in the NJ Star-Ledger under the headline “What a Girl Wants...to Read,” but was released via AP to nation-wide newspaper coverage, discusses the operation of Alloy Entertainment and how they have completely dominated the juvenile best sellers lists. Three of their books, according to the article, are in the NY Times best sellers list this week for children’s books, and their Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants books are the number 1 series.
I found this interesting from a marketing and cultural perspective: clearly they have recognized that we as a culture (I’m speaking specifically of Americans here, but this does leak into other countries with American programs and newsfeeds) love celebrity and luxury. I recently read a book titled Living It Up: America’s Love Affair with Luxury in which a college professor tried to decode our obsession with luxury brand items. His conclusion was that the intersection of celebrity media attention, wherein we know what celebrities wear, do, eat, and carry better than we know the last names of our neighbors, crossed with high credit card balance limits, has created a luxury saturation on all market levels. Anyone with a credit card can afford high ticket items now, like Louis Vuitton or Kate Spade bags, Hermes scarves, or Prada backpacks. Should I wish, I can hook the Baby Bitchlette up with a Gucci-branded baby carrier, sort of an uber-Baby-Bjorn.
Alloy Entertainment identified this fixation, our lust for high ticket and celebrity-linked luxury, and spun it into several book series. Gossip Girl chronicles an uber-rich circle of girls in Manhattan; The Clique covers a similar group of girls, though younger in age. To quote the article, “the hook common in many of the novels is a gaggle of rich, bratty, powerful schoolgirls. It’s like an episodic reading of Paris Hilton and her friends....” We, the reader, get to peek in on and identify with young people living the ultra-luxe life.
Far be it from me to cry shock and awe at the idea of the publishing world following the celebrity-luxury fixation trend. I’m fully aware that there’s a reason why there are so many awful reality shows on tv. People like them, and they sell well. It’s not a hard equation.
But this particular section of the article made me see all shades of red:
Staff members are in charge of everything about the book, from creating ideas to finding writers for the books, crafting proposals for publishers and creating the sleek cover art. The company then sells the book, but keeps all the other rights. As many as 50 are published each year and are well distributed among the major publishing houses.
Alloy’s methods may seem a bit unorthodox, especially to budding authors peddling a carefully crafted labor of love. Write a book that isn’t your idea? That seems totally uncool.
But for many of Alloy’s authors, it is a chance to do something they’d never do.
Lisi Harrison, author of “The Clique” series, was working at MTV when she was approached by Alloy to create books about wealthy, junior-high queen bees.
“Always being a closeted wannabe author—I jumped at the opportunity,” she said.
So there you have it. You don’t even need to think up your ideas for a book anymore. Somewhere, a corporate task force is going to do it for you. No need for creativity, nor writing a book based on a moment of insightful brilliance about the relations between women and the world. Just find yourself a cool job and wait for the book-writing assignment to come to you.
The corporatization of creativity, where market research fuels plot development, reminds me of the dissolution of creativity in radio. Used to be that DJs were soulful-voiced individuals who could have some say in their playlists, who could mix up different song groups into a whole that kept people listening. Now DJ’s have a computer printout of what to play when that’s created depending on the format of the station. A top-40 station will mix up the top 40 songs, and then wedge in songs that were in certain chart positions 1, 2, 5, and perhaps 10 years ago, for example, depending on how far back in time the playlist of the station will allow. Sometimes the computer will spit out what one DJ I knew called a “Holy Shit” song, an old and semi-popular track that hasn’t been played in a long ass time. And that is the expanse of the creativity - the DJ has little to no say, and, in some formats, isn’t really allowed to do more than announce the station ID, the weather, the time and the next song.
Now books are being written according to formula, too. I mean, I know that agents and publishers usually stick to established trend (hello, secret baby) when buying books in the first place, but to have the ideas and character groups thought up by the same people releasing the book, and farming out the actual writing to someone whose life experience may lend well to the development of acceptable plot ideas?
It boggles the mind. And whoo damn does it ever piss me off. Because you know if this formula works so well for Alloy (and it looks like it’s working just fine), other firms may pick up the trend, and soon instead of publishers releasing statements like, “We’re looking for paranormal romances with strong erotic elements” you’ll get advertisements from entertainment monoliths like Clear Channel: “We need a writer to bang out a few books in a series about a shopaholic vampire demon-hunter with three kids, a station wagon, and a serious penchant for shoes and handbags. No experience in writing needed, but must be familiar with all manner of couture, and the habits and lifestyle of the rich, famous, and undead.”





32 comments •
Trackback •
Categories: Ranty McRant
Tags: This entry has not been tagged yet.


by Candy • Sunday, July 24, 2005 at 08:29 AM
Some of our readers wondered if we’d create a special edition of Covers Gone Wild wherein instead of bitching long and hard about covers featuring Lord Mantitte, his immaculate wax-job and his patron saint, Our Lady of the Perpetual Wardrobe Malfunction, we’d discuss the cream of the crop, the best of the best, the covers that actually make us stop and say “Ooooh, pretty!” instead of making us want to claw our eyes out and pray for a swift, merciful death once we gaze upon them. In short: romance novel covers that DON’T suck unwashed, sweaty monkey ass.
We hear, and we obey. This week, I, Candy, will show you some of the covers I really, really like. You’ll notice that most of these don’t feature any men. It’s not that I’m a closet lesbian--not that there’s anything wrong with that--it’s just that most male romance cover models leave me cold. It’s more than their faces, because even the bare torso shots leave me going “meh,” and I like rock-hard abs just as much as anyone else. I think it’s very likely the cheesecake factor. Cheescake is tasty to eat, but not particularly tasty for mine eyes.
For instance, if the cover for Mr. Impossible hadn’t been such a hideous, iridescent pink, I would’ve included it in this list because it gets a lot of other things right: the half-smile, the pose, the period costume, and the miraculous fact that the model was actually allowed to keep his fucking shirt on instead of having it absent or, even worse, tucked neatly into his belt but completely unbuttoned. If the background had been desert sand, blue sky and a pyramid or two, this cover would’ve easily made the list.
Honestly, why aren’t I consulted when it comes to these sorts of things? My taste in cover art is impeccable. IMPECCABLE, I tell you. Don’t believe me? Check these out.
Zebra’s Regency line is putting out some truly lovely covers lately, and this is one of my favorites. It’s demure, it’s sexy, the look is very clean and elegant, and the font doesn’t make me want to weep and call the police to report curlicue abuse. Plus: I want that dress. This is a refrain you’ll probably hear very often in this entry, because damn, I love poofy, gauzy, girly dresses, and I love it when they’re used to good effect on a romance novel cover. Sigh.
Every time I walk by this book, I pick it up. Every time, I remember it flunked the 15-page test, and put it back regretfully. That, folks, is good cover design. I like the scratchy, textured illustration, I love the heroine’s outfit, and the cover just screams “Buy me! I’m a fun book!” Too bad the 15-page test screams “Don’t buy me! I’m mediocre, with the potential to veer into extreme annoyance the more you read me!”
Ooops. So much for not bitching. Sorry.
P.C. Cast is one lucky bitch. Most of the covers for her books are just gorgeous. I had a hard time picking the one I liked best for this entry, but I finally settled on this one because I love the colors, the textures, the expression on the woman’s face, and her kickass dress. I want that dress. Dammit.
OK, not romance, but chick lit, but man, a lot of chick lit books have covers that just kick. ass. The cover looks fun, the design is clean and uncluttered, and having the title and author on the boxes is a pretty nifty idea. And that pink herringbone skirt? Want it. Dammit.
Regulars to this site will have seen me mentioning this cover a bunch of times. That’s because I think it’s sexy done RIGHT. It’s kinky, it’s sexual, yet the cheescake is pretty discreet, and the models’ faces are shadowed so they don’t interfere with my concept of what the characters look like. Too bad the story itself was about as sexy and fun as watching Carnie Wilson getting her stomach stapled.
If I had to choose a favorite style of historical romance cover, I think covers based on old paintings would probably be it. This book, however, isn’t really a romance; from what I can tell, it’s a historical novel. But who cares? The cover is beyoootiful. I love the texture, the curlicued border on the left edge, the rich colors, the discreetly sexy painting, the fonts. Now why can’t more historical romances have more covers like these instead of pumped-up gym monkeys sporting scary eyeliner?
Stay tuned next week for Sarah’s whack at Romance Novel Covers that Don’t Suck!


by SB Sarah • Friday, July 22, 2005 at 12:55 PM
Congrats to Garianne for guessing today’s “Guess That Lonely Heart.”
The Smart Bitches proudly dub thee:
3 comments •
Trackback •
Categories: Guess That Lonely Heart!
Tags: This entry has not been tagged yet.





by SB Sarah • Friday, July 22, 2005 at 10:57 AM
In a five-second IM conversation one night (because we Smart Bitches have yet to actually speak live to one another - ha!) Candy posited the following: what behavior from a heroine will we never, ever see in a romance novel?
Being who we are, we came up with a very organized list. Behold: our take on Romance Taboos, Heroine-style.
Consider it the romance parallel to the oft-debunked guide on How to Be a Good Wife.
A Romance Heroine:
1. Would never have had an abortion and harbor no guilt and/or regret about it.
2. Would never sleep around just for the sake of doing so, or actually enjoy casual sex (unless it’s erotica). There’s got to be some moment, if the heroine HAS done this, of “OH, my life had no MEANING and I was CHEAP for doing so!”
3. Would never be an atheist and remain that way throughout the book (she would have to Find God!).
4. Would never start out devout and then end up atheist or agnostic - and obviously be happier with this (non) belief system than the religious structure she started out with.
5. Would never be a close-minded conservative, e.g. make anti-gay or anti-working-women statements (or the like). It might be implied but it ain’t said outright.
6. Would never knowingly cheat on her husband, and even in the remote possibility that she does, he probably did it first. And if she cheated on him, they’d never, ever end up together again. This taboo is not held against heroes, of course--The Marriage Bed and Your Wicked Ways are just two books that involve adulterous heroes who get an HEA.
7. Would never admit to liking, or having had, pussy. Maybe in erotic romance, but gay/bi men are much more common (or so it seems to us, anyway).
8. Would never be impatient with and admit to not liking children. This applies to heroes too. Those heroines that don’t want kids (Min, for example) are never mean to kids, and are usually spendidly comfortable hanging out with them.
9. Ditto animals. If either character starts out not liking children or animals, by the end of the book she’ll have babies dangling off her teats and he’ll be covered in dog hair and they’re both Ecstatically Happy with that situation.
10. Heroine would never be physically stronger than the hero, barring a paranormal involving a vampire/werewolf/demon/alien/whatever heroine and a human hero.
11. When involved in a business deal, especially a takeover, the hero HAS to come out on top. If the heroine belongs to the company that’s initiating the merger, her company will portrayed as the Eeeeville Corporation trying to stomp out the plucky competition, and she’ll eventually side with the hero. If vice versa, her company will be portrayed as the incompetently-run business that is saved by the hero’s huge yet amazingly compassionate and ethical behemoth of a company, and again, she’ll eventually side with the hero.
12. Never exists without one nurturing aspect to her personality. She might be tough as nails business-wise, but she grows plants like a gardener on speed. She could be a toned, competitive athlete but she also has sixteen cats and four dogs.
13. If she’s run down, stressed out and unhappy in a small town, she won’t find happiness and fulfillment by running to a large city, revelling in the increased job opportunities and anonymity this affords her, then making a new group of friends who share many of her same interests and finding a new man--one who has never been her high-school sweetheart or childhood crush. In short, she won’t have to go back in time to find herself. (The reverse happens all the time in romance novels.)
35 comments •
Trackback •
Categories: Random Musings
Tags: This entry has not been tagged yet.






by SB Sarah • Friday, July 22, 2005 at 10:55 AM
You know the drill: hook me up with author, title, and character’s name, and if you’re the first correct answer, you get yourself a Smart Bitch title.
Come and Set Me Free, Baby
Mild-manned antique-fiend, underwhelmed with herself, though most would kill to be her size, seeks man locked in a box of someone else’s making to unleash her desires and emotions. I will follow the right man through past, future, and parallel worlds.
14 comments •
Trackback •
Categories: Guess That Lonely Heart!
Tags: This entry has not been tagged yet.