I have a lot of friends in the publishing world. Granted, most of
these friends are Facebook kinds of friends, also known as "friends"
or, if you prefer, casual acquaintances. But I do know some of them
in the real world, which we tech savvy types sometimes refer to as
meatspace cuz it sounds so cool and freaky. Or at least it did
several years back when I last had contact with that real world. But
I digress. The point is that I have actually met some of these
people, and even touched some of them, but only in appropriate places
and appropriate ways. So no matter what you heard, it's probably not
true. Dammit.
Anyway, it's because of those friends (or, if you prefer, "friends"),
that I heard all about how Harlequin Books came up with this scheme to
separate would-be writers (or, if you prefer, "writers") from their
money by hooking them up with a vanity publisher and a set of
expensive services that will in theory turn their epic pile of pages
into something that looks like but isn't really a book. Let's call it
a "book", to distinguish it from actual books that come from actual
publishers and end up in actual bookstores.
So writers
everywhere (the ones without the air quotes) were shocked and
horrified and generally angry, and their various associations (the
Romance Writers of America (RWA), Mystery Writers of America (MWA) and
Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA; I guess
fantasy doesn't get its own F) all decided that Harlequin was no
longer a proper publisher and wouldn't get to play their reindeer
games any more. And I, being merely a friend of some of these folks
and a "friend" of some others, got just as shocked and horrified and
angry, because that's what I do. (A model acquaintance of mine
believes that's a bad thing. She told me so. Quite loudly and at
length.)
But this isn't about me, or at least it's no more about me than
anything else I write. Which, come to think of it, is all about me,
at least indirectly. But never mind about that. I mention all this
to a prelude which points out with wit and humor just why everyone was
so pissed at Harlequin. Read
this
and see if you agree. Oh, and bask in the glow of my first actual
blog post in ages. Somehow I don't think I could fit this
whatever-it-is into 140 characters. You of course may wish
otherwise.