Before Bust magazine's "One-Handed Read," we had this.
In the age of abstinence-only education, recreational reading is more important than ever before. And anyone who ever crouched in the back corner of the public library reading the dirty bits out of Judy Blume books knows what I'm talking about. And anyone who ever found Peyton Place tucked on the family bookshelf knows it, too.
Pick any two hormone-riddled adolescents, and plop one down in front of books like The Group by Mary McCarthy and Ken Follett novels and the other in front of Girls Gone Wild, and I guarantee you, every single time, the pervy reader will come out more well-adjusted.
It doesn't have to be good. There's just something to be said for using your imagination.
Teachers, parents, church leaders: In 1943, A Tree Grows In Brooklyn was published, and tucked within this classic tale of a shy girl raised by a scrubwoman and an alcoholic are some of the best-reasoned arguments both for and against premarital sex that you could throw at a young teenager.
Even then, Betty Smith was better-prepared to speak frankly and honestly to your children about sex than you are today.
Hmph.
Dear reader, life is too short for crap books.
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