Cheap Thrills -- A Portland Entrepreneur Is Reviving Generic Pulp Fiction And Selling It In Supermarkets

The dime novel is an idea whose time came - and whose time went.

Now, hopes Randy Byrd, the time has come again.

A Portland entrepreneur whose enthusiasm almost matches his dreams, Byrd has come up with a unique concept for breaking into the competitive world of mass-market paperback publishing: reviving a moribund form of pulp fiction, in a scaled-down size for the hurry-up lives of modern consumers.

Industry veterans are watching Byrd's idea with curiosity, fascination - even some Why-didn't-I-think-of-that? head-scratching.

``You have to appreciate the whole concept,'' says the 35-year-old Byrd, who has improvised a career through everything from pizza parlors to direct-mail advertising since attending the University of Oregon in the early 1970s. ``I was wondering what you could sell at checkout stands that was different, that would take up little space - and one day I said, `Why not miniature paperback books?'

``It was just, Pow! There it was.''

He calls them DimeNovels, picking up on the slang phrase for the cheap paperbound melodramas - 10 cents a copy - that flourished in the United States in the last half of the 19th century. A century later, Byrd's 96-page, 3-by-4 1/2-inch versions sell for $1.99, still inexpensive in an age when supermarket paperbacks are hitting $6.95.

The original dime novels were brief, action-oriented tales of the Civil War and Wild West. They had no room for ambiguity: heros were heroic, villains villainous. They were ancestors of the Westerns and hardboiled private-eye yarns that dominated drugstore racks in the 1940s and '50s, after development of the paperback format as we know it today.

In more recent years, pulp fiction received new energy when romance novels, in all their formulaic sappiness, crossed the Atlantic from England and became a dominant force in the U.S. paperback market.

Byrd's DimeNovels combine all those genres, and then some. After his initial inspiration a year ago, his research led him to settle on 12 basic story categories for the novels - which, at only 20,000 words, are more properly classified as novellas. Besides Westerns, mysteries, horror and science fiction, the DimeNovel categories include fantasy, adventure, thrillers and five types of romance: historical, sensual, glitz, suspense and ``sweet,'' or traditional romance.

One of the first things Byrd learned was that fans of generic fiction are hooked on the formula for each category; they don't want their expectations upset.

``Since we had such a unique product, we didn't want to be way out in left field in each genre - we wanted to be true to that genre,'' says Byrd, who met with a number of Portland writers' groups and assembled three focus groups to advise him during development of the DimeNovel concept.

``If you take, say, a `sweet romance,' your reader has certain expectations- and one of them is that a couple doesn't have sex until they are married,'' he explains. ``But then in `glitz,' if they're not having sex by the 10th or 20th page, the reader's going to put it down.''

Early last year, Byrd created a mockup and took the miniature paperback to checkout stands around Portland. He put the question to dozens of retail clerks and inventory buyers: Would this sell? The responses didn't disappoint, so he drew up a 180-page business plan.

That helped Byrd land his first investor last fall - a New Yorker who lives in Portland a few months each year and who was willing to put up $250,000. Working with contacts he had made in the local writing and commercial art communities, Byrd soon had manuscripts for the first dozen DimeNovels as well as cover designs which make a nostalgic virtue of the lurid realism of '50s pulp artistry.

Printed and bound in Quebec, those first 12 books - such works as ``The Hero Curse,'' ``Cowboy's Lady,'' ``Alien Starswarm'' and ``Hot Pursuit'' - are the stuff of dreams for Byrd. And right now, the dreams are getting real.

DimeNovels were test marketed in Portland last month, and two weeks ago they went on sale at checkout stands in 35 Seattle-area outlets of Fred Meyer, Safeway, Pay'n Save and 7-Eleven.

``My gut feeling is, I love the idea,'' says Marty Tassoni, vice president for marketing for the Portland-based Fred Meyer chain.

``I've read several of them - they're real easy to read, like a knife through butter,'' adds Tassoni. ``They're not the sort of thing I normally like to read, but the customer will have to decide that.''

Sales figures aren't complete yet, but Tassoni says the initial response has been good. One concern, he adds, is that Byrd is able to maintain a level of story quality that will satisfy fans of generic fiction.

That may be Byrd's toughest challenge, because his DimeNovel concept is also based on a monthly release of new titles.

``We figure it takes us three months to publish a book - that's the turnaround time from when we receive the manuscript,'' says Byrd, whose firm has a managing editor, art director and publicity/

marketing director. ``Our intention is to publish 12 new titles every month - one in each story category - for a total of 144 titles a year.''

``Twelve a month - that's tough,'' says Katherine Orr, vice president for publicity at the Toronto-based Harlequin Enterprises, the pulp-fiction giant which publishes Harlequin and Silhouette romances. Orr, who in a telephone interview was hearing of the DimeNovel program for the first time, was clearly intrigued, but cautious.

``It could be highly risky in the current market,'' she said. ``But, sure, I think it could succeed, depending on the consistency of the editorial product - and retailers have got to like the racking system.''

From a retail-marketing standpoint, if not an environmental standpoint, that may be Byrd's strongest asset: DimeNovels arrive at each store shrink-wrapped in their own disposable plastic display rack, with 60 books to a rack, five in each genre. At the end of the month, the stock clerk simply pitches the whole rack - including any leftover books - and places the new month's rack in the same spot at the checkout stand.

``It's a win-win-win situation,'' says Byrd. ``The retailer wins because he gets a new product every month with minimum hassle; the writers win because they don't need to be Stephen King or Danielle Steel to get space at the checkout stand.

``And the wholesaler is happy because they don't have to hassle with all those individual titles either - they just supply the display packs to each store.''

Some industry veterans, though interested in Byrd's idea, saw another problem.

``What struck me about them is that they're very highly priced,'' says Karen Solem, vice president and editor-in-chief of Harper paperbacks, which has its own line of generic fiction. ``If you're a reader and enjoy the act of reading, then you might be more likely to want a full-size paperback for very little more.''

A typical Harlequin romance, for instance, sells for only $2.75 but is more than twice the length of a DimeNovel. Byrd readily acknowledges his $1.99 price is something of a shot in the dark since DimeNovels have no precedent. He thinks, however, that their small size and quick-read convenience will prove an asset rather than a liability.

``I also think a lot of readers will be inclined to cross genres more in our books than in other full-size series,'' says Byrd. ``I think we'll find many people who say, `I don't normally read Westerns - but what the heck, it's only a $1.99.' ''

The single most powerful retailer in the book business thinks Byrd may be right. Harry Hoffman, president and CEO of the 1,100-store Waldenbooks chain, met with Byrd in December and agreed to test market DimeNovels next month.

``Harry thinks the concept is very good - that's why we have them,'' says Bruce Fryer, director of magazines for the Connecticut-based chain. ``We're going to provide Randy with a 20-store test in 20 major metropolitan areas. That will measure what the consumer's response is, and if it's successful, we will add them to our other stores.

``I'm a little concerned with the price, but ultimately the consumers will tell us on that one,'' he adds. ``I think the concept is very creative, I like the art work on the covers . . . and we don't have anything comparable in our stores.''

``I was taught to work really hard,'' says Byrd, whose double-breasted suits and curly golden hair make him seem like he might have stepped out of a California edition of GQ but who grew up in Grandview, Wash. ``If I got home and there wasn't anything to do, I had to go out in the back 40 and pick up rocks - that memory sticks with me - and now I feel awkward if I'm not doing something.''

He put himself through the University of Oregon by operating a Christmas-tree farm and by starting a pizza parlor in Eugene - it's still in business under different ownership - when he was 18 (``I had to hire people old enough to serve beer in my own place''). Now, with DimeNovels, he may have come up with his best idea.

``This isn't literature,'' Byrd says with a ready grin. ``These are just good, fun stories to read.

``My goal is to publish the kind of stories that people enjoy and will come back to read - come back every month.''

A taste of pulp fiction

``Grace Burrell opened the door. She wore a red strapless dress cut well above the knee, showing me two of the reasons I was in this mess. She caught me staring at those gams and her cheeks got a case of the flushes.

Her dark, red hair was swept back in waves, dropping down to the rose tattoo on her shoulder. I could smell the sandalwood again. She smiled her lovely smile and said, `Come in, Mr. Stone.' ''

``Dead Ringer'' by Greg Mandel

``When he had stripped down to nothing, he ran from behind the tree and jumped into the water with a gut-wrenching scream.

``Yeeaahooo!''

The water cooled his skin, but it could not assuage the spark of desire that had burned in his gut since he'd kissed Jane on the night of the wedding.

When he came up for air, she was standing a few feet away, her arms folded, an amused smile teasing at the corner of her mouth. `What do you think this is, Saturday swim-time at the pool?'

He lunged toward her, and she began to back away in an unspoken game of chase...''

``Cowboy's Lady'' by Annie Colby