Smart Bitches, Trashy Books | Romance Novel Reviews | Come for the Dominican Bitches, Stay for the Man Titty

by Candy • Friday, January 11, 2008 at 11:27 AM

I started composing this before I got the news that Signet had issued a new statement—had, in fact, beat a hasty and rather strategic retreat. (If the legal department goes “YOU FOOLS WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?” but there’s nobody in PR to listen, did PR still collectively crap their pants? Ponder this koan.) So this is no longer strictly relevant, but I like my strategy at the end of this post—and I’d argue that ultimately, that was the strategy that worked in this case.

When Signet released their first official statement about the Cassie Edwards debacle, I admit was furious. What the hell was going on here? Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong? Nothing illegal, arguably, but nothing wrong? Compounding this anger was the realization that really, other than raising awareness (and thereby treading the line between getting the word out vs. being obnoxious brats—and many people have argued that we crossed the line right off the bat due to what a snot I was in that first post of mine), we’d done all we could do. We’d e-mailed our findings, we’d made them public, and we were told, essentially “Tough. Suck. It. Up.”

And the rest of you were mad, too, and wanted to show your displeasure in a way more concrete than words. The idea of a boycott was immediately brought up. Hey, hit them where it hurts, right? In the wallet, bitches, in the wallet.

Except wonderful as the idea sounds, and appealing though it may be, a boycott in this particular case isn’t going to do much at all.

Janet at Dear Author provided some very good reasons why it’s a less than ideal solution, but it all boiled down to this: it’s going to hurt the authors a hell of a lot more than it’s going to hurt the publisher. Signet is huge, and their parent company, Penguin, isn’t huge so much as it is HOLY CRAP HUGE. Any sort of concerted effort to organize a Signet boycott would’ve produced at best negligible results against them while smacking innocent authors in the bank account and making them cry. The average author? Not quite as rich as Signet. Boycotting Cassie Edwards novels would’ve perhaps been a more productive move, but as many people pointed out in the comments: her fanbase is not necessarily reading this website, and frankly, most of her fanbase may not care about—or even be downright hostile towards—our efforts.

Amelia Elias provided more detail about why a boycott will hurt innocent authors disproportionately in an e-mail to me:

If people boycott Penguin books for even just a couple of months, it will have a tiny impact on Penguin’s total bottom line—TINY. But for the honest authors who have releases during those months? The impact they face is HUGE. The first month a book hits the shelves is the highest visibility and the best sales most books ever get. Thirty days in the sun to get the best sales you can. Authors plan advertisements, book signing events, interviews, etc—anything they can come up with to get their name and title out to the buying public during that time. The next month, if the book is still on the shelves at all, it’s shuffled to the back and hidden behind the next round of new releases.

And it’s not just that one month of royalties that’s at stake, even though to me, that’s enough by itself. Publishers negotiate an author’s future contracts based on the sales of past books. If the author’s sell-through sucks, their next advance will also suck. Their print run will be smaller, their advertising less or nonexistent, their distribution smaller. A new author with poor sales might not get offered another contract at all.

So in essence, if you decide to boycott Signet, you’re penalizing the authors for the high crime of signing on to Signet, and not only that, you’re penalizing yourself for denying yourself the pleasure of reading some damn fine authors, because Signet publishes good stuff, too.

And even if a boycott worked—even if we raised enough awareness to get the word out and actually organized something—history shows us that this isn’t exactly the fastest way to move. And you know what? I’m an impatient little monkey.

Which is why I advocate a method that works, and works astoundingly well, and has for centuries—one that has become a near art-form in certain cultures. Shame. Shame and humiliation. Public humiliation. Publishers want to make money, sure, but they also want to be known for putting out a quality product. Exotic grammar, stilted dialogue and characters hewn from the heart of the mighty mahogany tree could all be passed off as subjective preference, perhaps, but allegations of unattributed usage that are as widespread as what we have going on? Not quite as easy to sweep under the rug, especially not when there are a lot of people making noise.

So make some noise. If you need your noise to be more directed, write a letter expressing your very polite, very pointed ire at Signet and/or Penguin.

Shame them. Shame the everloving hell out of them. We can’t make enough of a dent in their wallets, but we sure as hell can make a dent in their professional image.