Secret shame

I have a confession: I love trashy romance novels.

I also love murder mysteries, and forensic science novels, and many, many other genres, but every now and then I’m compelled to read a bodice-ripper. They’re like book candy. And, like candy, you can’t read too many of them at once, or you’ll feel a bit ill. But occasionally, they’re a fun retreat.

The problem with bodice rippers lies in their covers. They’re embarrassing. Shirtless men, lots of cleavage, lots of wind blowing lots of hair. Ridiculous. It’s enough to get you to making book covers like your teachers made you do in grade school. (Side note: do they do that anymore? I wonder.)

Cue the e-reader.

Now, you can read any number of embarrassing trashy novels with no one the wiser. And I can’t help but wonder if it’s this phenomenon that is fueling the popularity of “Fifty Shades of Grey.” (Disclosure: yes, I bought it for my Nook, but haven’t read it yet.)

Before the e-reader, a woman might be embarrassed to be seen reading a book that has been described as porn. Or soft porn. Or erotica. Or whatever. The cover, at least, is tasteful. But for anyone who knows what the book is about, being seen reading it might raise questions about the reader.

I wonder what other books might be more popular in electronic formats?

 

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