So I decided this week that I am going to write a Mills & Boon novel. I confess this wasn’t an entirely creatively motivated decision. I read in Cosmopolitan that you can earn between £2,000 and £30,000 per book and frankly that sounds like a lifestyle I could handle. I mean, it can’t possibly take people more than about a week to churn out that rubbish. Can it?
I have never read a Mills & Boon before but their reputation precedes them on most grounds and it didn’t occur to me for a minute that bashing one out would be particularly taxing. My boss was less convinced.
“I don’t think it’s as easy as you’d imagine,” she objected. “There’s quite an art to it. They run courses and everything so people can learn. I don’t think it’s the kind of thing you can just do.”
Nice to get a vote of confidence… but anyway. Forgive me if I appear cocky but it’s not as though I’m trying to turn my hand to neuroscience here. I am, after all, a writer. In fact, as a journalist it is basically my job to write convincingly on topics I hitherto knew very little about. And this is trashy romance we’re talking about, for God’s sake. How hard can it be?
Well, we shall see. I have decided to record my experiences here as a testimony to the art (or otherwise) of writing for Mills & Boon. My first task? Read some Mills & Boon…