Disorderly Content

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.