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

Dear DocTurtle:

I’m a big fan of your wife’s site, and Lord knows, there’s more than enough cover snark to go around. And I completely agree, some of the Harlequin Presents! titles are enough to make your teeth hurt like you ate a glazed donut with a cavity. I’m particularly not fond of the “baby of shame” series, which makes me want to get all fidgety and stabby the nearest paperback.

And Lordy knows, I love a good random title generator. We’ve been known to play with such technology hereabouts, and mock the occasional Presents title. So it’s not like there isn’t plenty of mocking room going on. There’s like a mocking mansion with separate parlors for mocking at various times of the day, with all the mockage that floats about.

I so dig your sense of humor, too - random mammal generator? Win!. You went to the Jack Daniels distillery in Lynchburg before your wedding? Also win. I’ve been there. It’s a dry county. The irony is delicious.

So really, sir, did you have to go there? Did you have to pair the silly humor of a Random Romance Title Generator with the text:

“low-grade throwaway bodice rippers put out by the thousands by Harlequin and similar publishers....”

Did you really, really have to go there? I won’t pick apart the layered fallacy of that sentence, except to say: you don’t know from much. The cover art: preposterous. The titles? Don’t get me started. The contents? Not bodice ripper, not low-grade, and certainly not throwaway. Not by a longshot.

I challenge you to a duel! A duel of reading! I shall pick out a Harlequin that is pretty damn fantastic, and I shall send it to you and your wife to read. Perhaps romance isn’t your cup of tea, but certainly you can evaluate fiction for fiction’s sake, and read a story that might just alter your judgment of the category romance genre. I mean, the brain that came up with The Strongbadian Paper Company Sales Representative’s Wily Marquess can face the task I propose.

I await your reply. any time.

Yours,

SB Sarah
“The Scottish Trillionaire’s Feminist Duchess”

Psst- Got a book to suggest for the duel? Leave a comment.

Got plans today? Kathryn gave me a heads up (or something) that today is Go Topless’s protest day around the US, where women will gather without shirts to protest the ridiculous standards which make it socially acceptable for men to go topless, but not women. The New York City gathering place is the Merchant’s Gate of Central Park, aka the Columbus Circle entrance across from the Time Warner center. Other cities hosting topless rallies include Bloomington, Chicago, Miami and Omaha. The Denver rally will be on the 26th to coincide with the start of the DNC (Welcome to Denver! Here are our boobs!)

I think this is just awesome, but I have one word of caution: women, please, trust me on this. Wear sunscreen. Especially on your nipples. I recommend SPF 45+ lip balm as a sunscreen for your nipples. It tends to stay on longer.

Happy topless day! Hope someone breastfeeds while this is going on because that would just underscore the awesome. 

This week: costume drama, as in ‘How much drama do costume portrayals like these cause among those who, you know, do research?’

Sarah: Between the ruffles and the puffy sleeves and the vest, I had to giggle. The ice dancing puff-shouldered heroine was worth a snort, too. But the incredibly bendy legs of the horse? Oh, holy shit.

Candy: Miss Manners on graceful abduction-on-horseback etiquette: “Gentle abductee: The new rage when being pulled off your feet by frilly-shirted men on horseback is to struggle for freedom, but it seems to Miss Manners that this new development lacks a certain couthness and grace. Try arching your back to present a flattering profile, and remember to keep that pinkie up. Packing your own fan to ensure your tresses stream behind you is, however, gauche at best, and implies that your abductor does not know his job. In this particular instance, Miss Manners would like to gently remind you that natural is best.”

Sarah: Nobody forgets the nude dude at the garden party, that’s for sure.

Candy: Titles that were briefly contemplated for this cover before being discarded:

“The Nudist and the Drag Queen”

“Is That Really a Third Nipple?”

“Still Life with Schlong and Potted Geranium”

“For the Love of a Dead-Faced Hooker”

Sarah: Nothing but NOTHING says “Scottish” like slops. And purple hose. In the ocean.

Candy: What the fuck are those black smudges on his chest? Are they supposed to be chest hair? I mean, I have full sympathy for artists trying to depict chest hair without making it look smudgy, but seriously: the bits on his sternum look like grease paint. The better to accentuate his top-notch man-titty?

By the power of the random integer generator, we have a winner! Comment #126 is our winner: Jennifer Armintrout. Hooray!

Email me, please, and I’ll send you a print copy of Matthew Haldeman-Time’s Off the Record. Please do let me know what you think of it!

The first place winner of the Henley Bodice Prize is AnimeJune for her entry:

Lady Eleanor Wadsworth-Pennington had always thought she’d understood her mother when she said, “Beware the rakes, they cause only pain and misery!” until she finally stepped on one and the stout wooden handle swooped up and smacked her on the face, breaking her nose and causing her to curse the lazy but irrepressible gardener Louis in a most unladylike manner.

The second place winner of the Henley Bodice Prize is Carrie Lofty, for her entry:

Thrusting and thrusting again into the gasping blonde groupie sprawled across a hot pink Naugahyde loveseat, Leo “Nasty” Houston’s member was like a hard-working mole digging its winter shelter: its snout slick and hairless, blind to all but its instinctual purpose, and intensely fond of warm, dark, welcoming warrens.

And third place goes to Elizabeth Wadsworth, for her entry:

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any single Vampire Lord newly arrived from Transylvania with a wad of cash and several wooden boxes of dubious function, must be in want not only of prime London real estate but several nubile females upon whom to slake his insatiable bloodlust.

me, please, with your contact info to claim your prizes - thanks!