Bad Smut the People pay for.
Jan. 20th, 2007 11:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsI've been going through Ellora's Cave and the other on-line "romantica" sites and reading their previews and, oh gods, if this is what people are willing to pay for, I despair.
"Tilly Greene" (Venus Publishing) makes every beginning writer's mistake in the book: an "Elvin princess" who starts out her memoirs as if she were a valley girl who has only ever read California chick lit, and a cowboy romance novel that starts out with a ton of exposition about the ranch because, y'know, Brokeback Mountain (the movie, not the book) had all these beautiful vistas that just put you in the mood, y'know, and so, like, y'know, that's how she wanted to write and give you that sense, so, like, y'know, that's how the book starts, right? (If you've read Proulx's original novella, you know that she's much more interested in the characters than she is in the background, just like the movie.)
"Toni Mellieur" seems to believe that putting vampires on space stations and making them talk like they were in a 1970s disco film is somehow new or interesting.
And if that weren't enough, there's one more. The writer of Nyssa's Guardian has a new book, A Centaur for Libby. She's getting better but she still has a long way to go. Sentence #1: "Dark-haired [ding] Libby Daniels, public defender extraordinaire [ding], champion of the hopeless [ding] and overall queen of lost causes [ding], squirmed uncomfortably in her deep leather chair." The scene progresses as Libby confesses to her therapist her dreams of having sex with a centaur-- and here, as a furry writer, I'm deeply disappointed that Ms. Reese lacks the courage to give our centaur horsecock, but instead it's big but human-shaped. Yawn. Not that Libby gets her hands on it. After this scene, there is scene two, and the first two sentences are: "Humas beings were not a myth, nor was their fantasy world known as Earth. this was the conclusion reached by Markos the Centaur shortly after appearing from thin air in the middle of a strange forest of high, steel towers, points sharp as arrows."
Yeah, well. Markos is a greek god in all sorts of physical ways. Unfortunately, Ms. Reese has a limited imagination and when he finally gets Libby alone in a room, she's overwhelmed by his dominant, stallionesque charisma and he starts ordering her around like he just walked out of a Gor novel, violating the character development Reese had done for him up to that moment.
Bleah.
"Tilly Greene" (Venus Publishing) makes every beginning writer's mistake in the book: an "Elvin princess" who starts out her memoirs as if she were a valley girl who has only ever read California chick lit, and a cowboy romance novel that starts out with a ton of exposition about the ranch because, y'know, Brokeback Mountain (the movie, not the book) had all these beautiful vistas that just put you in the mood, y'know, and so, like, y'know, that's how she wanted to write and give you that sense, so, like, y'know, that's how the book starts, right? (If you've read Proulx's original novella, you know that she's much more interested in the characters than she is in the background, just like the movie.)
"Toni Mellieur" seems to believe that putting vampires on space stations and making them talk like they were in a 1970s disco film is somehow new or interesting.
And if that weren't enough, there's one more. The writer of Nyssa's Guardian has a new book, A Centaur for Libby. She's getting better but she still has a long way to go. Sentence #1: "Dark-haired [ding] Libby Daniels, public defender extraordinaire [ding], champion of the hopeless [ding] and overall queen of lost causes [ding], squirmed uncomfortably in her deep leather chair." The scene progresses as Libby confesses to her therapist her dreams of having sex with a centaur-- and here, as a furry writer, I'm deeply disappointed that Ms. Reese lacks the courage to give our centaur horsecock, but instead it's big but human-shaped. Yawn. Not that Libby gets her hands on it. After this scene, there is scene two, and the first two sentences are: "Humas beings were not a myth, nor was their fantasy world known as Earth. this was the conclusion reached by Markos the Centaur shortly after appearing from thin air in the middle of a strange forest of high, steel towers, points sharp as arrows."
Yeah, well. Markos is a greek god in all sorts of physical ways. Unfortunately, Ms. Reese has a limited imagination and when he finally gets Libby alone in a room, she's overwhelmed by his dominant, stallionesque charisma and he starts ordering her around like he just walked out of a Gor novel, violating the character development Reese had done for him up to that moment.
Bleah.
