So You Think You Can Write has narrowed down its several hundred entries to a short-list of twenty-five. These can be perused, commented on, analysed thematically, rated and shared with friends and enemies over at the official website. After all, it is up to the public to shorten the short-list even further, down to the ten best which will proceed to the next round of judging. Amateur critics should hurry, however, because there is a great deal of reading and thinking to be done before the fast approaching deadline. Meanwhile, every first chapter that the judging panel considered is online, thus allowing the curious and the masochistic to enjoy the many pieces that were deemed not good enough for Harlequin Mills & Boon. There is truly something for everyone. Like your romances with a modern technological gimmick, then try Tweeting with the Bachelor or Nicey – An iPod Love Story. Prefer your titles with a typo, then how about In the Hundt or Held for Randsom?
Perhaps you only read novels with titles so ludicrous your only option is to read on? Well, the suspiciously named Ashley Joy Lowell Emma has offered up Undercover Amish, a story concerning a police detective returning to her former Amish home to solve a murder and maybe find love with a cabinet maker. If not those, would you care for a novel that finally tackles the alphabet scandal? If so, there is The ABC Controversy, which may or may not do that. The Barlow Springs Series The Elizabeth and Grey Wolf Adventures Book One: Bound By Love sounds ambitious, but lacks punctuation. Butterfly Coffee could be just about anything. How about the possibly euphemistic A Season for Plums? If fruit doesn't appeal, then there are presumably heroines named Time and Over in Doing Time and Do Over. I Might as Well Become Rich From My Misery seems to show an author accepting their future in romance fiction. What’s Better Than A Book Boyfriend? may ask an important question while Quarterback Casanova manages to say more than enough with those two words.
There are manuscripts that already sound like Mills & Boon novels even the publisher would consider derivative. It is hard to believe, for example, that Playboy Sheikh, Forbidden Heir or The BIllionaire’s No-Strings Marriage or Resisting The Sicilian Playboy do not already exist. Still, the fear of repeating themselves has not stopped Harlequin previously, and the publisher has proven this by constantly stressing that authors should not write what they believe editors will want at the cost of their own originality. Despite this, Resisting The Sicilian Playboy has made it as far the public vote along with all kinds of odd titles such as Fire and Iron, Love For Sale and When the Bus Stopped. Harlequin will no doubt change these to something more marketable before publication, but for now the romance readership can respond with mouseclicks, bringing to an end decades of misogyny and exotica for a future of pretentious references to nothing.
A cursorary glance of the submissions indicates some authors researched more heavily than others. A keen understanding of Harlequin's portfolio is always advised, but adhering too closely to the model is unwise. Chopstick Thursdays by Stella Steele introduces itself with, 'Poppy Merlot is not your typical heroine.' Uh oh, Chopstick Thursdays. First of all, what is a typical heroine? A feisty virgin, perhaps, with a quirk that isn't particularly quirky? Just how subversively unique is Poppy Merlot? 'She is a free spirited, audacious and sexually naïve mechanic whose favourite guilty pleasure is ordering Chinese food every Thursday.' Many of those words require closer scrutiny, but with time of the essence and another four hundred first chapters to review it would be smarter to just move on. The last thing the Romance genre needs is an audacious mechanic. By the way, is it possible to buy a bottle of Poppy Merlot from the same shop that sells Butterfly Coffee?
Some entries were rejected for reasons immediately apparent. Z.A. Zombies Anonymous, for example, a Nocturne entry by Jo Rohrbacker, is hardly suggestive of idealised romance, 'The zombie epidemic has consumed the planet. However, the underground world of pimps, prostitutes,“zombie fights” and the grotesque practice of “zombies-for-hire” doesn’t stop the human heart from falling hopelessly in sappy love.' To Rohrbacker's credit, she appears to have found a way, but for a MIlls & Boon editor hoping to whittle so many first chapters down to twenty five anything with zombie in the title is not going any further. Using a similar form of discernment, stories told in the first person are simply ruled out, as are those that have been written on a drunken whim, such as Janet Lee Nye's Man Maid, 'She runs the hottest cleaning service in town. He’s an undercover private investigator hired by her competition to find some dirt. When the truth comes out, it’s going to get messy.' On second thought, with this many puns Man Maid is an early favourite for victory.
Analysing every entry is a difficult and exhausting task, and the results might well be misleading. Many applicants have offered novels they believe stand a good chance of winning, tailoring their first chapter to the manner of the publisher. Others have written the romance novel they wish they could read, twisting conventions to create an original spin on a well-worn formula. Some have awkwardly tacked on a relationship to their mystery thriller in the hopes of finding a home at Harlequin. The twenty-five lucky chapters available to read and recommend are not necessarily representative of the entries as a whole. The shortlist has been selected by Mills & Boon editors, chosen for their qualities as strong examples of what Mills & Boon seek out. Nevertheless, the transparency of their process is admirable, although the hundreds of chapters and pitches left unselected have been given no reason as to why. We may never know just what was so unpalatable about Butterfly Coffee.
Perhaps you only read novels with titles so ludicrous your only option is to read on? Well, the suspiciously named Ashley Joy Lowell Emma has offered up Undercover Amish, a story concerning a police detective returning to her former Amish home to solve a murder and maybe find love with a cabinet maker. If not those, would you care for a novel that finally tackles the alphabet scandal? If so, there is The ABC Controversy, which may or may not do that. The Barlow Springs Series The Elizabeth and Grey Wolf Adventures Book One: Bound By Love sounds ambitious, but lacks punctuation. Butterfly Coffee could be just about anything. How about the possibly euphemistic A Season for Plums? If fruit doesn't appeal, then there are presumably heroines named Time and Over in Doing Time and Do Over. I Might as Well Become Rich From My Misery seems to show an author accepting their future in romance fiction. What’s Better Than A Book Boyfriend? may ask an important question while Quarterback Casanova manages to say more than enough with those two words.
There are manuscripts that already sound like Mills & Boon novels even the publisher would consider derivative. It is hard to believe, for example, that Playboy Sheikh, Forbidden Heir or The BIllionaire’s No-Strings Marriage or Resisting The Sicilian Playboy do not already exist. Still, the fear of repeating themselves has not stopped Harlequin previously, and the publisher has proven this by constantly stressing that authors should not write what they believe editors will want at the cost of their own originality. Despite this, Resisting The Sicilian Playboy has made it as far the public vote along with all kinds of odd titles such as Fire and Iron, Love For Sale and When the Bus Stopped. Harlequin will no doubt change these to something more marketable before publication, but for now the romance readership can respond with mouseclicks, bringing to an end decades of misogyny and exotica for a future of pretentious references to nothing.
A cursorary glance of the submissions indicates some authors researched more heavily than others. A keen understanding of Harlequin's portfolio is always advised, but adhering too closely to the model is unwise. Chopstick Thursdays by Stella Steele introduces itself with, 'Poppy Merlot is not your typical heroine.' Uh oh, Chopstick Thursdays. First of all, what is a typical heroine? A feisty virgin, perhaps, with a quirk that isn't particularly quirky? Just how subversively unique is Poppy Merlot? 'She is a free spirited, audacious and sexually naïve mechanic whose favourite guilty pleasure is ordering Chinese food every Thursday.' Many of those words require closer scrutiny, but with time of the essence and another four hundred first chapters to review it would be smarter to just move on. The last thing the Romance genre needs is an audacious mechanic. By the way, is it possible to buy a bottle of Poppy Merlot from the same shop that sells Butterfly Coffee?
Some entries were rejected for reasons immediately apparent. Z.A. Zombies Anonymous, for example, a Nocturne entry by Jo Rohrbacker, is hardly suggestive of idealised romance, 'The zombie epidemic has consumed the planet. However, the underground world of pimps, prostitutes,“zombie fights” and the grotesque practice of “zombies-for-hire” doesn’t stop the human heart from falling hopelessly in sappy love.' To Rohrbacker's credit, she appears to have found a way, but for a MIlls & Boon editor hoping to whittle so many first chapters down to twenty five anything with zombie in the title is not going any further. Using a similar form of discernment, stories told in the first person are simply ruled out, as are those that have been written on a drunken whim, such as Janet Lee Nye's Man Maid, 'She runs the hottest cleaning service in town. He’s an undercover private investigator hired by her competition to find some dirt. When the truth comes out, it’s going to get messy.' On second thought, with this many puns Man Maid is an early favourite for victory.
Analysing every entry is a difficult and exhausting task, and the results might well be misleading. Many applicants have offered novels they believe stand a good chance of winning, tailoring their first chapter to the manner of the publisher. Others have written the romance novel they wish they could read, twisting conventions to create an original spin on a well-worn formula. Some have awkwardly tacked on a relationship to their mystery thriller in the hopes of finding a home at Harlequin. The twenty-five lucky chapters available to read and recommend are not necessarily representative of the entries as a whole. The shortlist has been selected by Mills & Boon editors, chosen for their qualities as strong examples of what Mills & Boon seek out. Nevertheless, the transparency of their process is admirable, although the hundreds of chapters and pitches left unselected have been given no reason as to why. We may never know just what was so unpalatable about Butterfly Coffee.
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