I kept seeing these monochromatic paperback books in Barnes and Noble. I wasn’t sure I understood what they were about on the basis of the cover art, but I imagined the plot had something to do with a masquerade for business men when suddenly, terrorists busted in and hand cuffed everyone to pieces of furniture. Think Bel Canto, only not as boring and without the whole Stockholm’s Syndrome thing.
Months passed and I didn’t think much more about the books until my sister mentioned she wanted to read them. Plus, the author of Fifty Shades did get her start in a most unusual way: as a Twilight Fan Fiction Writer. Fine! I’ll read it! If I have to! Geez, what is the big fuss about and why do I keep hearing jokes about mommy porn on TV? Seriously? Men can read porn, but we have to slap a label like “mommy porn” on a book because it caters to women? Slightly irritated, I started in on the book.
Chapter one read like a teenager’s angst over life’s drama. Wasn’t this girl supposed to be in her twenties and nearing college graduation? Hmmm. And she’s a virgin. Well, not anymore. She was more than “deflowered” by that Christian Grey character. Christian as the name of a sadist, how ironic. I did find I was turning the pages quickly. I think it was because the closer I came to the end (poor choice of words), the quicker I wanted it over with!
Let me just say, I’m not a prude. Really. I’m not. It is hard to shock me. What I didn’t understand is why any woman would want to give away her power like that. Who finds the controlling nature of the opposite sex a turn on? I mean, excuse me, I can decide what I want to eat, drink, wear, etc. I’m not a child. Well, I guess that goes back to my earlier statement. The college student that was too immature for this kind of a novel. She was prey, jail bait even. And the believability of Grey? Who has that much power and dominion over the business world and still uses phrases like “later babes?” Weird.
So, I did not continue the series. I stopped at book 1. Bravo to EL James for her humble beginnings and for stirring up so much controversy. I still feel her writing left a little to be desired, but far be it for me to turn my nose up at a published work since I am not. Not yet that is.
What do I want to read in this genre? Hmmm. How about crazy sex on merry-go-rounds?. No, what about sex while parachuting? No, no! Space sex! Yeah! That’s it! The zero gravity might work against you, but you would burn a hell of a lot more calories. Yes. I think the next mommy porn book should be a sexy space adventure. Who knows, maybe they will be scientists who discover a planet viable for humans to live on. And when they get there, there is this cave. Oh, and the girl is pregnant with an alien and her lover dies. Wait. That’s Prometheus. Ah, crap! Well, some sort of sexy space thing would be cool. Just sayin’.
To contact Stephanie Birch or to see more of her musings, rants and general nonsensical banter, email her at: firstname.lastname@example.org