B+
Title: His For the Taking
Author: Julie Cohen
Publication Info: Harlequin February 12, 2008
ISBN: 0373820690
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Without question, my biggest gripe with this book is the way in which you are choosing to market it. The UK title is better. Way better. Better like it was kidnapped by hot Vikings and rowed swiftly across the frozen seas to Betterland and crowned queen of all of greater Betterlandia. In the UK this book was titled Driving Him Wild. In the US?
For God’s sake, people. I can’t even tell you how dismayed I am that this marvelous book is going to be dressed up in the washed out faded tripe that is that title. What a damn fucking shame. “His for the Taking?” I’d like to be taking that title back to 1982 where it belongs. Do I have to move to the UK? I’d have a hell of a time getting a work permit, let alone a visa to live there. I’m doomed to endure these sexist drivel titles slapped onto books that ought to garner MUCH more attention! And wow, does it piss me off.
The tawdry, insulting craptastic shitcake that is the title of this book offends me as an American. What is with the shitalicious retitling for the American audience? Can you please explain?
And while I’m ranting, take a look at the covers for the UK and US versions of this novel:
UK Version: Hot, slightly awkward, but genuine-looking embrace with lithe heroine and normally-proportioned hero? Awesome, with side order of HAWT.
US Version: Instead of “awesome, side order of Hawt,” the waiter has apparently delivered a steaming fresh pile of what-the-fuck. The heroine is a cab driver. She teaches step aerobics, and is described by the hero as being lean, muscular, toned and tomboyish. With short blonde hair, I might add. That right there? Soft focus vanilla yogurt retread of any image you might find on a Presents novel from 2008 to 1998. (Although the female pictured does have very red manhands and an absolutely freaking HUGE thumb like WHOA.)
And this book is not a soft-focus sudsy romance. It’s gritty and real and marvelous and holy crap am I irritated that this lovely story is going to be packaged in chiffon when it ought to be at least dressed in leather if not denim.
Zoe Drake is a New York City cab driver. She arrives at her great-aunt’s apartment to fetch some items for said great-aunt’s funeral and finds Nick Giroux, a park ranger and hot nature man, camped out in the hallway waiting for Ms. Drake. Nick is looking for his father, who abandoned his family when Nick was a little boy. Zoe is looking for the black Vuitton shoes her great-aunt specified in her funeral plan. Nick last heard from his father in a note mailed a few days prior with the return address of Xenia Drake’s Manhattan apartment, and he’s sure that his father is there, or was recently enough that he might come back. Zoe doesn’t know what the hell Nick is talking about, but against her better judgment, she lets him stay in Xenia’s apartment with her. He’s hot, he rescues wounded pigeons, and he’s kind, dedicated, and also, hot. Also, Zoe can take care of herself admirably, and has both sharp judgment of people and the ability to kick literal ass. So if he tries anything funny, she can mess him up like whoa and like damn.
Ultimately, this novel is about finding your family, or discovering who your family really is, and what unconditional love really means. Zoe has to overcome her own feelings of hurt and isolation, brought about by her family’s habit of judging her against the perfection of her sisters and finding Zoe substantially lacking. Nick has to overcome his abandonment issues, and both Zoe and Nick have to take sizable personal risks to be together, changing a little bit of themselves in the process, though that little bit is enough to alarm each of them plenty. And really, honest to crapping damn shitcakes, this book takes on a whole list of major issues, and uses them to layer the characterization to the point where only a handful of pages in, I had a better grasp of Zoe and Nick than I have of other characters in other romances after a few hundred pages of superficial description. Zoe and Nick are original, flawed, but honest and noble people who have real and enduring pain in their lives, and the issues they face in order to seize their happy ending are not contrived or shallow. My only disappointment with the book was that I wished some of the familial issues weren’t all resolved off-screen, but even then, the issues of family are never resolved neatly with a bow and a perfectly-folded seam of wrapping paper.
The conflict between and surrounding Nick and Zoe – and there are several little ones that combine into one big mess – is compounded by the fact that both characters are also grieving. Zoe has just lost her great-aunt, who she felt was the only family member who understood and appreciated her. Nick is still grieving the loss of his father and of his own childhood. Because each character helps the other heal as well as grow, their happy ending is fiercely earned, particularly because Nick is used to being a loner, and Zoe guards her autonomy deliberately and without compunction.
Cohen is a strong and marvelous storyteller in a panoply of ways. The layered characters and genuine emotions and reactions of the characters are just part of the collective awesome,. Cohen is particularly strong at showing, not telling, and uses that skill to her hero’s advantage. For example, at one point, Nick ponders the fact that he’s attracted to Zoe, despite the fact that she’s pretty buff, because until Zoe came along, Nick had only been attracted to frail, delicate women who needed his care. Zoe didn’t need his care, though she welcomed his attention. And when, later in the book, Nick figures out why he’d been attracted to delicate women, his attraction to Zoe becomes that much more telling, and, in both Nick’s and the reader’s understanding, much more significant.
So let me get back to how short the US title sells this book. I could think of any number of better options, even options that include the ever-present hook words. Heck, Cohen’s working title, which I heard was “I Left My Clothes In the Bronx,” is a hoot. The UK title and cover image are sharp – she’s a cab driver, so she literally does “drive him wild,” and those cover models look like real people. But “his for the taking?” It literally makes me sad that a ferociously independent, funny, sharp and charming character like Zoe is being sold behind a title that speaks of passivity, sexual submission, and inertia. Zoe is in the driver’s seat of her life, even after Nick lands in the middle of it, and the idea that she’s in one place long enough for anyone to take her is insulting to her character. So ignore the title, and enjoy the book.
And if anyone has the ear of the title-bestowing folks at Harlequin, tell them I’d really like a word with them. Three words, actually. And the third one is “fuck.”
Laura, thanks for the link! I do, indeed, rock the ebooks.
Thanks for showing us there are some great reads out there in category, Sarah. I also prefer the UK title and cover. Nothing wrong with a guy who has hairy arms! I’m kind of partial to hairy legs, too.
Take a look at the girl’s hand on the British cover. Doesn’t that thumb look weird? Sort of like it’s growing out of her palm or something. I’ve been staring at my own hand, trying to get it to look like the model’s and now I have a cramp 🙂
Word: been46 Yes, I have, don’t remind me how long ago
Sandy D: OMG so funny! Clearly Thursday Next is slacking on the job. Maybe she needs to access her footnoterphone, hail the Cheshire Cat, and find out who else has escaped their covers.
I know previous discussions revealed that publishers look to category sales statistics as proof positive that these covers/titles sell. Ima think maybe that’s code for “sell as well as they did back in the ‘60s,” or “sell as well as slapping them in brown paper bags” or “sell as well as can be expected since we’re too lazy to do any real market research.”
My heart goes out to the authors, who deserve so much better. To have written something good, with care and skill, and have it packaged so inadequately is insulting.
Castiron wrote: Emma, now I want to read the book about the wereheron….
And I have just the title for it: Wish You Were-Heron.
men81—No, I want them a bit younger, please!
Regarding the weird angle of her right hand in the UK cover, I immediately thought that her hands were wet/dirty (from washing the cab? car? something?), and that she was embracing him while trying not to get crud on his shirt. Makes any sense to anyone besides me?
Relatively new reader here. Loved your review, though contemporaries aren’t my bag. That title change is heinous. The publisher must think U.S. readers are submissives. And sure, some of us are, but couldn’t Harlequin at least pay SOME attention to the content of the book they’re trying to sell?
Not to nitpick, Sarah, but I think you inadvertently twisted the standard writerly advice “show, don’t tell” around during this bit: “Cohen is particularly strong at telling, not showing…” ‘Cause this would usually be a *bad* thing in a writer. From your glowing review it sure doesn’t sound like Cohen suffers from this problem!
Anyway, thanks for creating such a smart, funny site. As I dig into your archives, I’ve been falling deeper and deeper in love with your reviews and commentaries. You’ve made me fall back in love with the genre; what better compliment can I give?
OMG< it was worth having them change the cover just to read Sarah’s review! I lurrrved reading it, laughed my freakin fanny off, and am begging you please please please, PLEASE send this to Harlequin immediately, including every comment on this website. Even if we (you) don’t know anybody there in titles, I’m guessing the letter will make the rounds if for no other reason, than to give the workers a big guffaw!
I also avoid series romance like the plague (except backlist for Nalini Singh). But, if Sarah likes it…I’m willing to try. Bet I can get a copy from PaperBackSwap.
Romance publishers are beginning to remind me of the movie “Major League”. Where the new owner does everything she can think of to make her team to lose big, because if attendance gets really low, she can move the team to a warmer city with a new stadium. So, what’s the prize if publishers can drive off huge numbers of romance readers? Do they get to switch to (their beloved) chiclit and other “worthwhile” books? Yesh, so tired of having this crap thrown at me, tired of being insulted by publishers, and tired of being asked to spend more money for it.
Absolutely no way am I going to pick up that book in a store. I have standards you know! (But it is available for download so I might do that—after sending Harlequin a sharp letter.)
You’re damn right about the title…what is up with that? Excellent review, I’m loving the brutal honesty and take-no crap attitude.
What is up with the girl having blonde hair on one cover and brown on the other? Is the heroine blonde or brunette?
But the problem there is that any purchase of the book makes Harlequin think these horrid covers and titles work as marketing—there’s no way to let them know that I bought the book despite the awful packaging. If I thought they paid the slightest attention to letters from readers, I might give it a shot, but they’re a big corporation and just don’t care.
Yes, I agree that that is the fundamental dilemma. If we were to boycott all the books whose covers we hate, we might get the publishers to take note, but if we do that, we are punishing the authors (present and future) and ourselves as well as the publishers, and that seems a bad plan.
I follow the principle that covers are best ignored. ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ is an old adage: we need to take it to heart. And the occasional session of sneering contemptuously at the people who make cover-art decisions in certain publishing firms can make one feel a little better.
So how do you support the author whose work you enjoy at the same time you send a clear message to the publisher that these cover and title abominations are insulting and a real deterrent to purchasing their product? Should we start sending complaints for every book we want to read but really hate to buy? The publisher is still getting their money; why would they pay attention to complaints? I do not advocate boycotting authors, not by a long shot, but there has to be another way to make our displeasure felt in a meaningful way.
I think it simply depends on how much time and effort one is prepared to expend on this particular issue. Unfortunately, there are many other, even more serious, wrongs that need to be righted in this imperfect world, and for which we should be ready to man the barricades. For me, trying to ensure that my light leisure reading is appropriately packaged is a long way down my list of priorities.
I think the internet is a useful weapon today, and probably a discussion like this one, especially when multiplied a hundredfold, may start to crack the fatuous complacency of some publishers’ yes-men, but I am not expecting improvements any time soon. The more influential authors may be able to help, though in general, they move out of category (and get more sophisticated covers) as soon as their reader-base is strong enough.
I don’t think there is an answer yet. But if we can even convey to Harlequin/ M&B and some others that there is even a problem, it represents progress. And if somebody can persuade these houses that they will sell MORE books, not less, by selecting less embarrassingly puerile covers, that would help.
I think the publisher, if they got enough letters, actually would listen -I don’t know how many constitutes ‘enough’, but it might be worth a try.
I might send a letter to them pointing out that it’s not just that the title/cover is bad, but it gives the wrong idea about the book, so people who pick it up might not enjoy it and be turned off Harlequins, and those who would enjoy it won’t buy it because of the title/cover. That might make them pay attention more than just saying I don’t like the cover/title.
‘I think the publisher, if they got enough letters, actually would listen…’
I doubt it. The only things that make an impact on large businesses are (1) things that visibly make or lose money for them and (2) really widespread negative publicity.
🙂
Then again, any publicity is good publicity. Without exception. So even our discussion is discussion of the book and while it will irritate me that HQ may assume that’s a good reason to keep up with the soft-focus images with passive titles, that means the author gets attention and that’s a good thing.
However, I suspect that while HQ sells like madness right now, part of that is because the readers who autobuy that month’s collection, either by mail or in the store, will eventually buy less or just age and stop buying for reasons of mortality. Will younger audiences keep up the trend of buying categories and ignoring the titles? I am curious to find out.
SBSarah sayeth,
That is the most interesting question, isn’t it? Long term research on the matter of readers buying despite covers vs buying because of the covers would appear to be in order, hm?
Paging Karen Templeton…
I think Karen has said before that the sheikh/billionaire/baby titles that so many of us loathe sell the most, and this would be in stores, not through club orders or one-click autobuys. So we have to hope that the people who like them are older and are going to age out of the HQ market. I’m not optimistic, though; I don’t think it’s just old people buying Presents.
But, Sunita, do they buy because they actually, honest to goodness, like them? Or do they buy because they’ve been conditioned, through lack of alternative offerings for decades, to identify them as the only thing there? That would be interesting to know, I think.
Although I like the UK cover better, I don’t find anything particularly offensive about the other. Sure, it’s a smooth, sanitized image, but it probably appeals to a broader base of women (and men) than, say, hairy arms. While the content of the book doesn’t seem reflected by the US cover, and the sexual politics of the title change are troublesome, the woman’s position is not exactly submissive. Looks like she’s about to cowgirl up.
Remember this is the company that could not find a way to market the Bombshell line- although after the fact I did read a few and thought them entertaining—Rachel Caine’s Red Letter books for two.
Wow, this book sounds fun and super-cute. But, like everyone else, I find the title change insulting. The cover is just the yucky icing and the moldy cake.
Is there a place I could buy the UK version of this book online? That way, author would still get her money, but Harlequin wouldn’t. Maybe if more people started doing this, and there was a sudden spike in the selling of the better UK titles while HQ sales of the same titled book went down, HQ might listen.
Ooops, I meant yucky icing ON the moldy cake.
Since I consider myself part of the younger generation (and on a tight budget!), I’ll say that the trend might continue. My personal experience and the experience of those I’d witnessed is buying an M&B/Harlequin might continue because it’s cheap and easy (to buy/read). The category romance lines seems to get the most exposure from being stocked generically everywhere (along with Nora Roberts). I moved on to chick lit after the categories in an unconscious effort to branch out; only awareness of the good singles comes from the internetz. It is more expensive and more difficult to buy singles so I need someone to point out which’re the best…
The UK’s romance publishing wasn’t the best around and rather badly written chick lit heavy (no Crusie, anywhere, and she seems to warrant being thrown in with the chick lit, at least?). They’re getting better.
Rambly conclusion: Harlequin will continue to profit, but singles have possibly more exposure due to internetz.
Spamword: ‘hospital36’ Why, yes, exactly where I want to be at 36. I shall rule them all, I tell you. I wantz me a good medical romance; the pick of M&B this month’s all secret babies and past relationships… and Italians.
Oh, um, just so that we don’t have too many misconceptions, there are many horrid titles within the UK too.
Mills & Boon Uk examples.
Securityword this time? ‘same46’. Thank you for agreeing with me, random word+number generator.
Thanks for the link! C.M.
Did anyone scroll down? Take a look at the UK cover for sold to the highest bidder.
Ring any bells??
😉
Oh, crap, lol! CJ! I did not notice that…!
There we go with the recycling…!
spamword: ‘second57’ Yes… second time I’ve seen that. Coincidental discovery or what…
Azteclady, I think there is definitely *some* conditioning going on. After all, I have bought and thoroughly enjoyed books with Billionaire, Virgin, and other revolting signifiers in the titles, so now I’m less likely to let the titles govern my choices. But if they were as turned off by the titles as we are, then they should avoid those books in favor of good books with better titles. If they are indifferent, then the title shouldn’t affect the sales rate, i.e., they shouldn’t sell better than the others.
If we wanted to do this right, we should control for the effects of authors, covers, and titles on sales, so that we could isolate the independent effects of each. I can see it now, at the next sociology meetings: “The Sheikh’s Virgin Reward: A Multivariate Statistical Analysis of HQ Covers and Titles.” I am sooo there.
Hi,
I venture here at my peril but… I haven’t read this particular book by Julie but I have read some of her other ‘Presents’ and her books for Little Black Dress, which is a funky UK imprint from Headline.
I will declare an interest here: I also write for Headline LBD. I am also a huge fan of Harlequin books and many of their authors are dear friends but I have a big problem with this title. No way are Julie’s heroines ‘His for the Taking’. I can’t imagine a Julie Cohen heroine being anybody’s for the taking. Absolutely not.
I think that this type of title doesn’t reflect the essence of her writing which is edgy, funny and very contemporary. She’s a breath of fresh air and deserves a title that’s a breath of fresh air.
You know it’s time to bail when the circumference of a man’s biceps exceeds that of his waist.
See though, their evil cover choice had a silver lining: we got to read an awesome and astute rant about it! I HATE when people ignore the characters when producing the cover art (sci fi is another genre that is usually guilty of this) and I love that we can enjoy romance novels while still holding them up to a hardcore standard of what I would call… feminist anti-suck-ery.
I just read this book and yes, it was quite lovely. It was the first category romance I’ve read since jr. high, ha.
The title makes no sense.
The pigeon’s a nice touch.
Brava. That’s an appalling title.