Dragging in fresh news from the book industry's backyard:

• Random House reports an increase of sales by 9.3% over the year's first half. In those six months, 108 Random House titles hit the New York Times bestsellers lists and 13 reached number 1. (via Publishers Weekly)
• The Christian Science Monitor reports the bestselling books nobody's read yet. According to prepublication orders at Barnes and Nobles, Trace, by Patricia Cornwell, holds the top spot. Stephen King's last installment ofThe Dark Tower series, The Dark Tower VII, and lit crit darling Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell, by Susanna Clarke, come in at spots number two and three, respectively.
• John Travolta's autobiography goes to Leslie Wells at Hyperion for a feverish $3 mill. (Hyperion, guarding its investment, has requested Travolta to leave out any mention of his "religious" beliefs.) (via Publishers Marketplace)
• The New York Times reports on B & N's stealth bomber dive into the publishing industry. Unlike most publishing companies, B & N is not, according to its rep, "in the practice of publishing our forthcoming titles to the press." Bad news for W. W. Norton, whose upcoming hardcover edition of The 9/11 Commission Report must compete against a previously unannounced hardcover version by B & N, to be sold at half the Norton price.
• "If Harvey goes, whither the Miramax book business?" the New York Post wonders. The Post imagines three possible scenarios, finally favoring the last: "Weinstein leaves Miramax and takes the book business with him," but allows Disney to retain a portion of the Miramax books' backlist.

The story below, taken from a Chicago Sun-Times author profile, is about both MTV and punk. But it's not a story about Ashton punking the book industry --though, after reading it, one might wish it were.

When Chicago author Joe Meno was shopping around for a publisher for his latest book, Hairstyles of the Damned, he received a pulse-quickening offer from MTV Books. But he soon discovered it was an offer with ridiculous strings attached.

Meno had written a semiautobiographical, punk, coming-of-age story set on the South Side. Filled with references to dozens of bands and mix tape set lists, the book's heart and soul is driven by a teenager's life-changing discovery of punk's social and political message.

But as part of the deal, MTV Books wanted Meno to change all the names and use contemporary bands, namely MTV bands.

Related Readings:
-Hairstyles of the Damned's first chapter
-Meno's book tour dates -Amazon "Listmania!" list: MTV Books: Novels that will surprise you

When reporting deals, Publisher's Lunch relies on four monetary categories: "nice" ( $1 - $100,000), "good" ($101,000 - $250,000), "significant" ($251,000 - $500,000), and "major" ($501,000 and up). But, according to author and blogger John Scalzi, most writers never get past "nice." "If only for sheer honesty's sake," he writes, "there needs to be book deal rankings that accurately reflect what deals really get done and the financial quality of those deals for the writer."

And now, thanks to Scalzi, there is.

From "Real World Book Deal Descriptions":

$0 to $3,000: A Shitty Deal. Because that's what it is, my friends. Possibly the only thing worse than a shitty deal is no deal at all. Possibly.

$3,000 to $5,000: A Contemptible Deal. The deal you get when your publisher has well and truly got your number, and it is low.

$5,000 to $10,000: A "Meh" Deal. It's not great, you know. But you can pay some bills. Get a few of these, and a tolerant spouse with a regular income, and you can tell your day job to piss off. This year, anyway.

$10,000 to $20,000: A Not Bad Deal. Note that "not bad" here should be said with a slight appreciative rise of the eyebrows and a small approving nod -- this is the level at which the money begins to look not embarrassing both to writers and non-writers. A couple of these, and you'll definitely be punting the day job (I did, anyway).

$20,000 to $100,000: A "Shut Up!" Deal. This needs to be said in the same enviously admiring vocal tone as a teenage girl might use to her girlfriend who is showing off the delicious new pumps she got at Robinsons-May for 30% off, or the vocal tone (same idea, lower register) Jim Kelly used when one of our number admitted to having at least a couple of deals in this range. With this kind of money, you don't even need a supportive spouse to avoid the Enforced Top Ramen Diet (although, you know. Having one doesn't hurt). But it's not so much that the other writers actively begin to hate you.

$100,000 and above: "I'm Getting the Next Round." Because if you're at this level, you can buy and sell all the other writers at the table. Get 'em a friggin' beer, for God's sake.

The Underground Literary Alliance's wish list for American literature often reads like a parody of a Logical Fallacies textbook. The Alliance plans to "overthrow the literary establishment and get access for real writers," but defines "real writers" as those without access. And, in asserting itself as the voice of the one true "public," the ULA fails all semantic tests for clarity: "The public wants a voice and wants writing that's worth reading!" The diatribe continues, further down the page,

Literature is how a culture can know who it is and what its options are. But today's crop of publishers and celebrity writers are interested in hiding. They want the splash that brings cash but otherwise have no interest in rocking the boat. But good writing is often about race, gender, or libel law in some way or other---three topics that affect and interest everyone.

The ULA , of course, doesn't need any more press, but I got to thinking about them while reading today's New York Times profile of Vickie Stringer, the director of hip-hop-oriented Triple Crown publications. Triple Crown sounds like a ULA wet dream, and it's a strange and singular cosmic moment when, despite the confusion and nonsense of ULA's stated goals, a book culture emerges that embodies them. From the Times profile:

In 2001 Ms. Stringer self-published her first novel, "Let That Be a Reason," about her life as a madam and drug dealer. She said it has sold more than 100,000 copies.
She founded Triple Crown Publications, named after her drug crew, and now publishes 15 other writers of "hip-hop," "street" lit, or "ghetto fiction," as it's called. They are writers in the tradition of Donald Goines and Robert Beck, their work mainly African-American in content, filled with vivid depictions of sex and urban violence.
… There are no hard sales figures on the books because most are self-published and marketed the same way as hip-hop music was a generation ago: out of cars, in the streets, through flyers, in beauty salons and car washes in African-American neighborhoods.

The only thing Triple Crown lacks is a book or two on libel law, but, then again, the ULA lacks a business plan, any street cred, and its own drug crew.

Related Readings:
-Download submission guidelines and browse street lit selections at TripleCrownPublications.com. -The Christian Science Monitor surveys the growing genre of "hip-hop fiction." -The ULA now has a blog.

Smell being the most evocative of the senses, it is not surprising that literature is full of aromas. Now an Italian perfumiere, Laura Tonnato, has tried to do justice to the olfactory imagination of some of her favourite authors, concocting five scents to match five odorous moments in classic novels.

The Guardian article continues with descriptions of each scent and which novels the scents refer to ... which makes GalleyCat ask, what scents would you associate with books by contemporary authors? The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands: ascetic notes of grapefuit? Eats, Shoots & Leaves: the noxious burn of white-out? Send us your synesthetic thoughts and answers.