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Thursday, March 15, 2012

Sex, and I'm Talkin' All Kinds, Sells

     There's a hot new book on the New York Times Bestseller list - Fifty Shades of Grey by E. L. James.  James, a Brit, is a TV executive, wife, and mother.  She's trying to keep her full name (or would that be real name?) a secret.  Fifty Shades is the first part of a trilogy.  The book details the exploits of Anastasia Steele, a shy college student, who becomes the willing trainee of Christian Grey, a billionaire entrepreneur and BDSM (bondage, domination, sadism, and masochism) master.  The reviews I've read say that the first twenty pages of the book are a poorly written set up for the non-stop sex that follows.

     Ms. James' book is currently published by Writer's Coffee Shop, an Australian e-publisher.  The book is mainly read on Nook and Kindle.  Hard copies are out there, but they are rare.  One nut tried to get $999.99 for a paper copy on Amazon.  Thanks to social media, especially Goodreads.com and Twitter, Fifty Shades has been picked up by Vintage Books and "real" books will be out on April 13, 2012.  I'll probably spring for a copy.  If the county library decides to buy it, I would be 3,000th on the hold list, and I don't want to wait that long.

     Every so often a juicy tome takes the world by storm.  The book reviews are comparing Fifty Shades to The Story of O, published in 1954.  I got hold of my mother's copy of The Valley of the Dolls in 1966, and it helped to round out my education.  I also remember Naked Came the Stranger, a fornication filled novel, written as a joke, that became a bestseller.  The Huffington Post calls Ms. James' volume "pornography for mommies."  The soccer moms are calling it Levitra for ladies.  Readers swear the book is improving their marriages by stimulating their libidos.  To each their own.  I don't ever hear myself saying, "Yes, Master Mike.  I would be glad to tie your shoe laces with my teeth."

  Sex sells, and we were due for this one.  So congratulations, E. L. James on the success of your book.  Maybe I should have  become a pornographer instead of the happy blog lady.

    
     

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