Deanna Hoak

I'm getting into this a bit late, but I'm proud to announce my part in the Atlanta Nights project. The challenge was to write as atrociously as you possibly could, to test whether a certain vanity publisher is actually selective about what they accept. (The publisher claims they are selective, as part of their argument that they are a "traditional" publisher.)

My chapter, if I do say so myself, was hideously bad. Absolutely, completely unacceptably bad. Bad enough that I still laugh at myself every time I read it (though I admittedly have a somewhat odd sense of humor:-)). It's Chapter 33; here's the first paragraph:

As Isadore Trent dreamed sleepily, her red hair spread like a cloud a tent around her pillow, her face exploded with joy. "Oh, I wish I was back there." She thought. She missed it so badly. Maybe she'd get to go back someday. She thought about the hot dry heat, about the grit of sand. Oh, how it felt to be penetrated by those huge mosquitoes . . . Oh, yes. She was a masochist of the first degree. She shivered in her sleep, thinking about it. Goose pimples formed beginning at the tips of her toes, pushing out farther the day-old stubble on her legs, and continuing up her stomach until her nipples were pointing out. Then they reached her neck, and her trembles tangled her hair into a mess. She'd have to brush it good when she woke up, but she'd enjoy the tangles, no doubt.

You can check out the whole thing here. :-)

As probably everyone who reads this blog already knows, the publisher made an offer on the book, then retracted it once the test went public. The reason they gave for retracting it wasn't even bad writing, though! It was because of the "nonsensical" text that was computer-generated for the chapter after mine, which, you know, one would think a publisher would notice before they offered to "buy" a book.

This same publisher, by the way, again as part of their "proof" that they are a traditional publisher, claims to employ 35 full-time editors...for the 4,800 books they put out last year. Any other editors want to chime in, slap their knees, and say, "Hahahahahaha!!!"

Anyway, it was a wonderfully fun exercise. My chapter wasn't even the worst! If you'd like to own the masterpiece that is Atlanta Nights for your very own, it is available here (just the reviews are worth the click), and it now has an ISBN of its very own: 1-4116-2298-7. All proceeds from this point on go to benefit the SFWA emergency medical fund, for members in need. Buy it! It will give you hours of laughs.

I’m getting into this a bit late, but I’m proud to announce my part in the Atlanta Nights project. The challenge was to write as atrociously as you possibly could, to test whether a certain vanity publisher is actually selective about what they accept. (The publisher claims they are selective, as part of their argument that they are a “traditional” publisher.)

My chapter, if I do say so myself, was hideously bad. Absolutely, completely unacceptably bad. Bad enough that I still laugh at myself every time I read it (though I admittedly have a somewhat odd sense of humor:-)). It’s Chapter 33; here’s the first paragraph:

As Isadore Trent dreamed sleepily, her red hair spread like a cloud a tent around her pillow, her face exploded with joy. “Oh, I wish I was back there.” She thought. She missed it so badly. Maybe she’d get to go back someday. She thought about the hot dry heat, about the grit of sand. Oh, how it felt to be penetrated by those huge mosquitoes . . . Oh, yes. She was a masochist of the first degree. She shivered in her sleep, thinking about it. Goose pimples formed beginning at the tips of her toes, pushing out farther the day-old stubble on her legs, and continuing up her stomach until her nipples were pointing out. Then they reached her neck, and her trembles tangled her hair into a mess. She’d have to brush it good when she woke up, but she’d enjoy the tangles, no doubt.

You can check out the whole thing here. :-)

As probably everyone who reads this blog already knows, the publisher made an offer on the book, then retracted it once the test went public. The reason they gave for retracting it wasn’t even bad writing, though! It was because of the “nonsensical” text that was computer-generated for the chapter after mine, which, you know, one would think a publisher would notice before they offered to “buy” a book.

This same publisher, by the way, again as part of their “proof” that they are a traditional publisher, claims to employ 35 full-time editors…for the 4,800 books they put out last year. Any other editors want to chime in, slap their knees, and say, “Hahahahahaha!!!”

Anyway, it was a wonderfully fun exercise. My chapter wasn’t even the worst! If you’d like to own the masterpiece that is Atlanta Nights for your very own, it is available here (just the reviews are worth the click), and it now has an ISBN of its very own: 1-4116-2298-7. All proceeds from this point on go to benefit the SFWA emergency medical fund, for members in need. Buy it! It will give you hours of laughs.

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