Every year Harlequin Mills & Boon scours the world for new aspiring authors whose dream of being published by Harlequin Mills & Boon is not sufficiently ambitious enough to be considered a dream. As we approach the final few months of whatever historians will call this year the details of So You Think You Can Write have been announced. Much like the trials the publisher traffics in the path to the greatest reward is an arduous battle against tedium with easily surmountable obstacles, at least one arrogant businessman and what at first appears to be a lifetime of happy winnings, but is in fact a series of increasingly miserable compromises. Unlike previous years, however, this year will be slightly improved, albeit largely due to inflation. Not only will there be a weeklong conference and the usual parade of corporate buzzwords masquerading as events, but 2014 introduces the Ultimate Author's Publishing Prize, which really is the ultimate prize an author can receive in publishing.
Those dubbed Best Author in bygone years have had to make do with the indignity of winning a competition for Romance Fiction. This year's champion will instead be honoured with the single largest and most wide-ranging grand prize ever offered for this global contest. This one lucky writer will land a two-book series contract, a series-specific editor, marketing and PR support, as well as social media training and a summit meeting with a creative team. At last, no more will they amateurishly update their Facebook profile and post photographs of their cat on Twitter like an idiot. No, before long they will pow-wow with their imaginative entourage atop mountains. But wait, because just when the prize seems large, wide-ranging and exhausting Mills & Boon will also throw in a gift card for a champagne dinner for two, which will not pay for the meal entirely, but will certainly help.
Before aspiring authors begin to fantasise about the clinking of glasses and endless meetings there is the conference to suitably prepare writers for the challenge. Thankfully the event lasted from the 15th to the 19th of September and has therefore finished. The opening date for entrants is the 22nd and manuscripts can be submitted until November 10th, at which point authors must wait an entire year before this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity again becomes available. For those interested in pursuing their ambition of entering a writing competition the rules are simple. First, write an opening chapter, with a maximum of five thousand words, and a 100-word pitch of what happens during the latter twelve or so chapters, offering greater detail than happily-after-ever and a smiley-face emoticon. Last year there were seven hundred participants. This year the total number of however many entrants can be bothered to enter will be whittled down to twenty-five by the unpaid interns of professional Mills & Boon editors. These qualifiers must then submit a completed novel to be evaluated by the personal assistants of the professional editors. After this second round of judging the twenty-five will become a short-list of ten. These ten books will be posted on this very internet for a public vote over the course of the first week of November.
Last year sixty thousand fans voted, and selected Tanya Wright as their favourite, sending her on the way to wherever she is now. A mere seven or so days after the public voting begins the public voting ends and the grand winner is announced. The next day the victorious writer will sign his or her two-book contract and be jetted to the highest point of their respective country to meet their public relations expert, their stylist, their Twitter-twitterer, their new editor, the Queen of Romance and the amateur model who will stand in for them at photoshoots. The whirlwind nature of this sudden rise to stardom is presumably deliberate, and seems appropriate for the reality of typing and obscurity that is the life of a Mills & Boon author. Tanya Wright was not the only writer to have their life changed marginally by So You Think You Can Write. In fact, seventeen other entrants were signed up by Harlequin. A simple sum of mathematics would suggest that a writer does not even have to make the final round of voting to be considered talented enough for Mills & Boon. This bodes well for anyone considering throwing together the first three thousand and one hundred words they can think of.
What is next for those prospective novelists? The task of putting words on a page is arguably one of the most fundamental aspects of beginning a career in writing. As soon as the competition was announced the deadline for applications approached. Anyone just finding out about this might want to think twice about entering, considering a fifty-five thousand word novel will be expected in about six weeks time. Naturally, for adept romance fiction writers six weeks should plenty. Jill Shalvis could write a perfectly satisfactory Jill Shalvis romance novel in the time it takes to read this sentence. Despite the race against time element, So You Think You Can Write is an opportunity difficult to resist. When else can an aspiring author have an unsolicited manuscript read by a Harlequin editor?
Those dubbed Best Author in bygone years have had to make do with the indignity of winning a competition for Romance Fiction. This year's champion will instead be honoured with the single largest and most wide-ranging grand prize ever offered for this global contest. This one lucky writer will land a two-book series contract, a series-specific editor, marketing and PR support, as well as social media training and a summit meeting with a creative team. At last, no more will they amateurishly update their Facebook profile and post photographs of their cat on Twitter like an idiot. No, before long they will pow-wow with their imaginative entourage atop mountains. But wait, because just when the prize seems large, wide-ranging and exhausting Mills & Boon will also throw in a gift card for a champagne dinner for two, which will not pay for the meal entirely, but will certainly help.
Before aspiring authors begin to fantasise about the clinking of glasses and endless meetings there is the conference to suitably prepare writers for the challenge. Thankfully the event lasted from the 15th to the 19th of September and has therefore finished. The opening date for entrants is the 22nd and manuscripts can be submitted until November 10th, at which point authors must wait an entire year before this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity again becomes available. For those interested in pursuing their ambition of entering a writing competition the rules are simple. First, write an opening chapter, with a maximum of five thousand words, and a 100-word pitch of what happens during the latter twelve or so chapters, offering greater detail than happily-after-ever and a smiley-face emoticon. Last year there were seven hundred participants. This year the total number of however many entrants can be bothered to enter will be whittled down to twenty-five by the unpaid interns of professional Mills & Boon editors. These qualifiers must then submit a completed novel to be evaluated by the personal assistants of the professional editors. After this second round of judging the twenty-five will become a short-list of ten. These ten books will be posted on this very internet for a public vote over the course of the first week of November.
Last year sixty thousand fans voted, and selected Tanya Wright as their favourite, sending her on the way to wherever she is now. A mere seven or so days after the public voting begins the public voting ends and the grand winner is announced. The next day the victorious writer will sign his or her two-book contract and be jetted to the highest point of their respective country to meet their public relations expert, their stylist, their Twitter-twitterer, their new editor, the Queen of Romance and the amateur model who will stand in for them at photoshoots. The whirlwind nature of this sudden rise to stardom is presumably deliberate, and seems appropriate for the reality of typing and obscurity that is the life of a Mills & Boon author. Tanya Wright was not the only writer to have their life changed marginally by So You Think You Can Write. In fact, seventeen other entrants were signed up by Harlequin. A simple sum of mathematics would suggest that a writer does not even have to make the final round of voting to be considered talented enough for Mills & Boon. This bodes well for anyone considering throwing together the first three thousand and one hundred words they can think of.
What is next for those prospective novelists? The task of putting words on a page is arguably one of the most fundamental aspects of beginning a career in writing. As soon as the competition was announced the deadline for applications approached. Anyone just finding out about this might want to think twice about entering, considering a fifty-five thousand word novel will be expected in about six weeks time. Naturally, for adept romance fiction writers six weeks should plenty. Jill Shalvis could write a perfectly satisfactory Jill Shalvis romance novel in the time it takes to read this sentence. Despite the race against time element, So You Think You Can Write is an opportunity difficult to resist. When else can an aspiring author have an unsolicited manuscript read by a Harlequin editor?
Before excitement threatens to overtake good judgement there are a handful of doubts worth fretting over. Not only does your book have to convince interns, assistants and editors, but it must also manage to impress the notoriously discerning Mills & Boon fanbase, even before publication and the financial windfall. Then there are the other several hundred novels up for selection, some offering debonair sadists, pouting vampires or original archetypes women have not yet realised they have loved since forever. How will niche sub-genres fare against more mainstream, populist offerings? Do authors of the unconventional, the cult or the literary submit their novels to Mills & Boon? Probably not, but that experimental, stream of consciousness romance featuring the disfigured hobo and the world-weary prostitute should probably wait for a more progressive chance of a big break regardless.
For the company behind So You Think You Can Write there is only positive publicity. Naturally, they release the news with a politically-correct statement of betterment. 'Harlequin and Mills & Boon editors believe that by engaging aspiring writers, showcasing the tremendous appeal of the romance genre and offering expert insights into crafting the perfect story, they can help promising novelists hone their skills and achieve their dreams of writing for one of the world’s leading publishers of books for women.' Write on! Admittedly, Bewildered Heart takes issue with dream as the correct choice of word, but the aspiration of the publishing giant, now backed by News Corporation billions, gives them every right to falsely claim an idealistic purpose. The challenge has been challenged, the gauntlet has been thrown down. If you, dear reader, believe you have a romance novel in you, or preferably a romance novel in your desk drawer, now might be the time to dust that thing down, change the name on it from your own to that of a True Blood cast member and start looking up local restaurants that serve champagne and offer gift certificates.
For the company behind So You Think You Can Write there is only positive publicity. Naturally, they release the news with a politically-correct statement of betterment. 'Harlequin and Mills & Boon editors believe that by engaging aspiring writers, showcasing the tremendous appeal of the romance genre and offering expert insights into crafting the perfect story, they can help promising novelists hone their skills and achieve their dreams of writing for one of the world’s leading publishers of books for women.' Write on! Admittedly, Bewildered Heart takes issue with dream as the correct choice of word, but the aspiration of the publishing giant, now backed by News Corporation billions, gives them every right to falsely claim an idealistic purpose. The challenge has been challenged, the gauntlet has been thrown down. If you, dear reader, believe you have a romance novel in you, or preferably a romance novel in your desk drawer, now might be the time to dust that thing down, change the name on it from your own to that of a True Blood cast member and start looking up local restaurants that serve champagne and offer gift certificates.
