I accept!

Dear Sarah (of Smart Bitches, Trashy Books),

As Maughta indicated in a comment on your begauntleted blog post, she once had me read one of Betina Krahn's Victorian affairs, "The Last Bachelor." The heroine was a wealthy widow who took in destitute young women and married them off to unsuspecting bachelors, little knowing that her own turn was soon to come.

I recall that though the book was well-written, it simply wasn't my cup of tea. It didn't hold my interest. My feeling is much like my take on Mozart and B.B. King: though I've never much cared for either of them, I certainly appreciate their extraordinary talents.

In any case, never one to shrink from a challenge, I accept and await the title you select. Will you draw from the Blaze basket? The Presents pile? Or, quel horreur!, the NASCAR nook? Please be gentle.

Please send us your chosen title forthwith, we're on tenterhooks.

Best,
DocTurtle

P.S. -- Incidentally, in the interest of historical accuracy, I would like humbly to admit that the Random Mammal Generator (as funny as I find it) is the brainchild and Meisterwerk of my friend Eric Schneider. The Random Romance Novel Title Generator is all my own, however. Mea culpa.

Sun, Sand, Circle Jerks?

Ahhhh, back from the beach with a weird misapplied-sunscreen-burn and no jellyfish welts (DocTurtle got those!) and what should cross my desk but this lovely little children's book.






Now we all know I have the brain of a 15 year-old boy so guess where mine went. Yup. Daisy chain. Everyone looks so HAPPY! I especially appreciate the little drop of sweat on the pig's brow. One Two Three Pull is what she said!

On a side note, DocTurtle has been challenged! Will he accept it? Only time will tell...

Hot Links

Goin' to the beach with lots of urban fantasy (I'm a sucker for a strong feminist chick with big boobs on the cover), but wanted to leave you something to do (besides the excellent Romance Novel Title Generator that TurtleBoy made up for us and which can be found in the last post). Here are some links I've been meaning to post for, like, ever. Thanks to the readers who directed me to them. Enjoy!

Pistil Books' Museum of Weird Books
Rex Parker's Pop Sensation
Punk Rock Penguin's Bad Book Covers
FlapArt (for reading romance novels in public)
Reusable Cover Art in Historical Novels
Spooky Moon's Cover of the Week
Suburban Beatnik's Toga Porn
and finally A Guide to Writing your own Michael Crichton Book (and a book using the formula)

Titter-worthy Titling Automaton

Hey, All! DocTurtle here, spotting for Maughta on this cool and quiet eve. We're getting ready to head to the beach tomorrow for a much-deserved (and long-delayed) three-and-a-half-day weekend. But we couldn't leave you without one more post to tide you over until Monday. (If you're nice, maybe Maughta'll post again tomorrow, too!)

I'll make my contribution now.

I've posted twice before (here and here) about the utter inanity that is the romance novel title. They're really formulaic: if you've seen one, you've seen 'em all. I decided to crack the code and create my own Random Romance Novel Title Generator™, available for your use free of charge on my own website, located here.

I hope it's good for a few chuckles and the odd guffaw. I encourage you to provide your feedback (favorites? any words you think we missed?) in the comments section.

Happy hunting!

Phallic Phriday of the Phuture!

I'm not really sure what to say here besides, "Look! Penis!!" Also "Half man/half stereo receiver." And "Hah hah hah look at the computer!" I also like the juxtaposition of "bang-up job" right below the launch explosion (hey little commando-guys, you're supposed to run AWAY from the flames!!!). Yeah, it's the weekend, I'm losing it...

What I did over my summer vacation

Some of you out there might have been wondering just where the hell I've been the last few months. Well, in addition to fighting off sexbots, recovering from said sexbots, and enduring a double ear infection, I've been reading these books. I trust you'll understand why I had to stay locked up in my cave, away from the discerning public, while reading them once you've seen the covers. Wow, that corpse is sure looking good (good being relative to a corpse, not to a normal human being with any fashion sense whatsoever), even with half her face missing. She's not laughing, though. TRUTH IN ADVERTISING!! Where's her ear? Did it go where the rest of her face went? To a better place than this book cover, I hope!

Who told this artist that half-a-face was intriguing? Was it the same person who taught the artist of the Longarm books? For some reason that idea pleases me.

Oh gods, it gets worse!! The '80s were not a good time for ANYONE'S hair!!

Leather-clad vampire babes with automatic weapons? I'd read that.

Phallic Phriday: Republican Tools Edition

"Okay, Sven, for this pose I want you to reach down, grab your ankles, and think about Austria."


"Oh, Chad! Your pole is so long and hard, I don't think I can contain it with just two hands!"

Judge a Book: You be the Judge!

So occasionally I get masochist authors who want me to snark on their books. Now, we all know I'm too nice to make fun of my readers, right? That's why I leave it to you! Here are a couple of submissions (thanks, Julia and Lee!). Snark away!



Okay, I can't resist snarking on this one. Looks like Blossom got a double mastectomy and is four months pregnant. But my favorite part is the shadowed lettering. Doesn't look like bad photoshop at all!

Fairy Dust

Whew! Just escaped from the sexbots.

While I replenish my fluids and take some vitamin E, here's a video for your enjoyment. It features a fruitcake who draws bookcovers. Someone's been dipping in the fairy dust!!

Does this man inspire confidence?

Would you watch a movie this man recommended?   I happen to agree with Richard Crouse on some of his selections (at least a few of selections, actually, a lot of these movies are ob-scure):  Happy Texas is charmingly silly, Jason and the Argonauts made my childhood endurable, I was one of 5 people who liked Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  But there's no getting around the fact that Killer Klowns from Outer Space is terrible.

But why am I writing about what's in the book when I should be focusing on the cover of The 100 Best Movies You've Never Seen.  Hip thrusts do not inspire my confidence on the dance floor and they certainly don't on a movie recommendation book cover.  But it gets worse.  Here's the back cover.  

It's going to be a while before I want to eat popcorn again.

Mammary Monday: I want my mammaries!

First off, I want to assure you that A History of the Breast, by Marilyn Yalom is a delightful, informative, and *hrmph* scholarly book.  While it doesn't have nearly as many pictures as some of my obviously desperate house-guests  have wanted (You know who you are.  Quit your whining and find some real boobs to look at!), the book doesn't stint on breast displays, with Maidenform bra ads, Annie Sprinkle's Bosom Ballet, and Renaissance paintings.  So what, I must ask, is up with the cover?  There's more bosom on display on Saturn's Children.    

I should add that Maughta and DocTurtle have escaped/worn-out their sexbot captors.   Once they've finished their rounds of rabies vaccinations, they should be back and blogging again.

Cheap and Dirty

I can't think of a better way to describe this cover than "cheap and dirty."  Mammary Monday comes a few days and several cup sizes late.  Saturn's Children by Charles Stross features a femmebot (according the Amazon blurb, but I've also heard the character described as a sexbot), but there's no reason the cover has to be this bad.  Would you read this book in public?  Maybe, if you were the 13 year old boy who created the cover in 20 minutes with Lightwave.  And what's that in her hand? A breast implant?

By the way, sorry for the hiatus, folks.  Maughta and DocTurtle are being held hostage by a pack of rabid sexbots.  

Time to take out the trash

It's been a few months since my last lampooning of the all-too-easily-skewered Harlequin line. Tonight at our Local Grocery Chain Maughta and I came across a few books which once again exemplify Harlequin's penchant for expository titles and swarthy Mediterranean Mammons.

Let's take a look at the latest in a long line of barrel-bottom bodice-busting bookery, shall we?

All I have to say about this bit of schlock is that the title sounds like it was produced by a Romance Novel Random Title Generator™ that's fed words like "billionaire," "bachelor," "bride," and so forth. I also have to admit that at first I thought the giant gemstone at the cover's center was a glinting pair of stainless steel handcuffs.

Oh, and a NOTE to would-be-poets: "billionaire heir" doesn't "rhyme," it doesn't "scan," it doesn't witness any clever poetic device. It just sounds uninspired and stupid.

Wait, did I just say that last title sounded stupid? I spoke too soon. We're back at the corner of 1st and Main in Expository Title Town. Nice brocading on that fainting couch. She's going to have a helluva backache in the morning.



And here come the Greeks! The cover designers didn't want to leave anything to chance: "In the Greek tycoon's bed," "The Giannakis bride," "At the mercy of a ruthless Mediterranean billionaire..." He's Ukrainian, isn't he?

Exactly how many Greek billionaires are there? Of course, the Italians are not to be outdone:

For my money, this last one's the topper. The title defies every naming convention for throw-away fiction ever devised. It doesn't sing, it doesn't zing, there's not even the merest attempt at drama. It reads more like a newspaper headline ("Mayor: Town in Crisis") or the title of an academic text ("Nuts: a comprehensive history of almonds in the United Kingdom") than the title a romance novel. However, 3 of the title's 6 words ("virgin," "Italian," and "wedded") are stock fodder for the RNRTG™, so I guess I could cut it some slack.

Until next time, keep sending us your covers, and your favorite pulp titles!

Warm Fuzzies

From the aptly named Buzzy comes Little Fuzzy.

Take that, freakin' Ewoks! I hope these things live underground 'cause otherwise those eyes are extremely ridiculous. Oh, who am I fooling, those eyes are completely ridiculous any which way you slice it. If the Fuzzies get wet do they turn into gremlins?

Also freaking out children everywhere is this book from reader Melanie's library's easy reader collection:

Melanie says, "Now, I know this girl is blind, but she MUST be aware of where Annie Sullivan's hands are. I feel dirty just for having looked at it." Better hold onto that belt, Helen, or that dress is going to come flying off and this book will move from "easy reader" to the "adult" section!

Arrrrrrrrr!

Avast, ye scallywags, ye are about t' be boarded. MOTHERboarded, that is!

Thank you, lovely JH, whose Law Library is, for some inexplicable reason, weeding this gem. Apparently the original book is in light blue with red kerchief and titles, but alas we only have it in black and white.

In other pirate news, did you know that the decline of pirates directly relates to global warming?

John Ringo - Who Knew?

"Few names in the lore of western gunmen are as recognizable. Few lives of the most notorious are as little known. Romanticized and made legendary, John Ringo fought and killed for what he believed was right. ... In this charnel house Ringo gained a reputation as a dangerous gunfighter and man killer. He was proclaimed throughout the state as a daring leader, a desperate man, and a champion of the feud. ... In the end, Ringo died mysteriously in the Arizona desert, his death welcomed by some, mourned by others, wrongly claimed by a few."

From the synopsis of John Ringo, King of the Cowboys by David Johnson.

How often do we get to snark about something from a university press?  Is JaBbiC favorite John Ringo named after the Cowboy King?   Does he give mustache rides?

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain...

Um...oops.

So Maughta's got me listed as a co-author on her blog, and I've got a couple of other blogs on Blogspot, including my decidedly-less-well-read-than-Judge-a-Book-by-its-Cover blog about math pedagogy, Change of Basis. It seems that when I went to post on the latter this morning, I accidentally posted on the former. (No, it was not a pathetic attempt to cash in on Maughta's internet popularity, which is inarguably exponentially greater than my own...not that I'm bitter about it...or anything...I mean, what do I care? I'm...happy...about her success...I'm...just fine...with it...really...so what if no wants to read about what I have to say? It doesn't matter...not at all...)

My bad.

Sorry about that, folks.

We now resume our bad cover art snarkitude, already in progress...

...shoulda seen the size of the package on that one! Dog will hunt!

In other news, faithful reader Laura sends us evidence that crappy cover art is not confined to a single linguistic tradition. Behold, ¡Atención...platillos volantes!:



Ay, chihuahua. One might think that not wearing one's helmet vitiates the effectiveness of the spacesuit/oxygen tanks one is wearing. Apparently one would be wrong. One might also think that one ought not wear angular undergarments whose pointy bits threaten to break through the fabric of one's spacesuit, not to mention the fabric of space-time. On this point, too, one would be in error.

What is the luchador del espacio ("space warrior") doing to the alien invader, power washing it a with a high-luster waxing compound?

Back on planet Earth (I think), Nomad reader sends us this provocatively-titled tome:



Hey, whatever folks wanna do in the privacy of their own homes is fine by me. What I find funniest about the cover (title aside) is the helicopter-shot we've got of grandma waving goodbye as we sail off into the clouds...or into the ceiling fan, anyway. I'm sure the artist's intent was to get a shot of Ms. Burns standing amidst an assortment of her handiwork, but the effect is awkward and disorienting. Her queen-like wave just makes it worse.

Sorry again for the unintentional cross-bloggification. Thanks go out to our ever-eager cover submitters, and our devoted fans. Keep it comin'! You may now recommence commenting.

Kinky Kids

Caffeinated Donut tells me that (s)he "found Kinky Kids in my brother's room about a year ago." The question I'm sure we all want answered is what your brother was doing with kinky kids. Or, well, maybe we don't want that answered...
Is that G. W. and Laura? Damn, I wish Jenna and Babs had done this years ago, the world would be a better place!

Training Manual?

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure that this is not the way it's done. Even on the internets (rule 34 notwithstanding).

Mea Culpa

Sorry I missed Phallic Phriday yesterday. What can I say? The weasels got me.

(thanks, Laura F!)