Is it good that so many women have discovered a sudden love for reading, or very bad that they’ve only got their noses buried in the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy?
If you move in polite circles you might be blissfully unaware of EL James’ publishing phenomenon.
To save my blushes I’ll describe it as a lusty story with plenty of sweat. Think Jackie Collins and then ratch it up a bit.
So far, the series has sold more than 20 million copies, making its female author more than £800,000 a week.
James is clearly hitting some sort of sweet spot – that many readers can’t be ignored.
But I know I’ll be giving this tale a miss. What’s the point of buying a book you’d be embarrassed to be seen with in public?