I’m a writer, so of course it brought a flutter to my soul and a smile to my lips when my oldest daughter informed me this evening that she’s had a story in her head and was starting to put it on paper. It’s about a geeky girl who doesn’t have a date for prom. A popular guy loses his date at the last minute, and asks the geeky girl – even offers to buy her a dress. What a nice Popular Guy!
Sounds a little Cinderella-ish, right? Sure, until you hear the title: “Kisses and Sex”.
I asked “Where does the sex part come in?” while I tried to manually Botox my eyebrows into something resembling a calm expression. Lord knows I want to read THAT part. I have to make sure she’s not operating under any misconceptions… make sure the public school health-class education I pay for is doing it’s job. Harumph!
Maybe she just knows already that sex sells… an author doesn’t have to feel bad about the reader getting to the last page and saying “What the?… where’s the sex part???” if said writer already has a nice little royalty check in her wallet. Maybe.