Here's Our Million Dollar Idea

Let's face it: we all want to be famous authors. "Some day," we all imagine in our heart of hearts, "I will be here at the library, shelving the books that I wrote." For most of us the foregoing is but a pipe dream. But you and me? We're different. We're smarter and more talented than that. And we understand our market. We know what sells, because we order it for our libraries. We take it out of the boxes, catalog the heck out of it, put the protective cover on it, carefully affix too many stickers and labels to it, check it in, shelve it and then check it out again. We have seen paranormal romances appear nearly out of nowhere to capture a big chunk of the fiction market.

And we want ours.

You may have been thinking to yourself, "sure, I'd like to write my own paranormal fiction book, but all the good angles have been taken!" You're not far from wrong. Vampires were an easy sell. Shape shifters were a shoo in. The rest are a bit dodgier. Werewolves? Are you joking? But even those are taken. You have racked your brain, you've consulted the reference material in the 398.2s, but it appears that all the good ones are lone gone. Pixies? Too little (or in the case of Black Francis, way too big). Leprechauns? The less we think about those boozy little cretins getting it on, the better. But I have a great one.

There is also the paranormal romance trend of guys who are paranormal creatures also having spiffy jobs. Like the one I pointed out months ago about the vampire bull rider. It seems that all the easy categories of job, like cowboy or English duke or Highland princeling have been used. Nobody wants a shape shifting insurance adjuster or a werewolf poultry inspector. But I have a good one of those, too.

I think you and I should start writing the book immediately before somebody else beats us to it. OK, our dreamy guy? He's a Navy S.E.A.L., BUT (and this is the million dollar part), he's also a selkie.

We're practically rich already. We make the perfect team. I'm really good at writing semi-funny, somewhat incomprehensible gibberish that goes on for about 150 words and then peters out completely, and you're good at everything else that isn't that. Let me know soon. I have started the agent query letter already.