Carrillo-Gailey is just the latest in a decade-long string of women writers (e.g., Lisa Palac and her 1997 memoir, The Edge of the Bed
, for starters) to run with the idea that "good girls" don't need to be afraid of pornography. The concept isn't particularly original, and neither is its execution. After a boyfriend accuses her of being "pornophobic," the Los Angeles screenwriter picks up some erotica in a bookshop, begins masturbating, then breaks up with the boyfriend after a misguided visit to a strip club. The story of how she finds, loses and recaptures her next lover unfolds through a series of implausible anecdotes (beginning with an awkward encounter at Hustler's sex toy shop) populated by a sitcom-perfect cast of supporting characters, including the promiscuous best friend, the gay buddy—even a nearsighted Chinese mother prone to comic malapropisms. Carrillo-Gailey insists all the porn-related material is true, but concedes that some situations have been "altered for dramatic purposes," and the increasingly outlandish nature of those embellishments raises questions about the other passages. On the other hand, they do liven up her banal discoveries: vibrators can be fun, Playboy
isn't even that smutty and so on in this uninspired fairy tale. (Apr.)
