writing

I recently read two articles on acclaimed mystery author, Janet Evanovich, the first stating that she had requested $50 million from her then publisher St. Martin’s Press to renew her contract, the second, published some weeks later, announcing that in response to St. Martin’s had refusing the requested amount, Evanovich had subsequently returned to Bantam/Random House Publishers where she first began her career.



While the first article had ended with ponderings of whether Evanovich would receive her request from St. Martin’s, particularly in this poor economy, the second article carefully stated that no one privy to the proceedings had released details of what Evanovich would receive from Bantom/Random House.

My husband, on hearing the details of the articles, responded with, “$50 million dollars? You must have your numbers wrong. Are you sure you read the article correctly?”

Questioning the figure myself, or rather my ability to remember what I saw, I returned to the website where I had read the articles and then announced to him that I was correct. “Wow!” He shook his head, adding, “She must sell an awful lot of books,” referring to Evanovich.

And she has done that. But obviously not enough for St. Martins to grant her request.