#101: Talk to Me First

Talk to Me First: Everything You Need to Know to Become Your Kids' Go-To Person About Sex, by Deborah Roffman

(Boston: Da Capo Press, 2012)

Summary:
"Nationally acclaimed educator and author of Sex and Sensibility, Deborah Roffman distills her more than thirty years of experience teaching kids -- and their parents -- into this indispensable guide, helping you to be your kids' number one source for information and guidance on human sexuality. Roffman tackles everything from developmental stages to strategies for handling embarrassing or difficult conversations, offering the best way to make sure you both keep talking (and listening)."

Table of Contents:

1. Getting There First About Sex
2. Raising Children in a World Gone Upside Down
3. Parenting Is a Five-Piece Suit
4. Affirmation: Our Children as Sexual Beings
5. Information: Folding in the Facts
6. Clarity About Value: Honing Your Message
7. The Delicate Art of Limit-Setting
8. Anticipatory Guidance: Turning Children over to Themselves
9. Practice Makes Perfect: Let's Go Fishing

My Take:
Here's one where I really wish I'd kept up on my blogging, as I remember this being an especially useful book about parents, kids of all ages, and communications around sexuality (and in general). Unfortunately, enough time has gone by that the book's long been returned to the library and I don't recall enough specifics to comment on in more detail. Oh well. If you're looking for a good book about talking with kids about sex that doesn't push a particular agenda, read this one.  

#99: Fifty Shades of Grey

Fifty Shades of Grey, by E.L James

(New York: Vintage Books, 2012)

Summary:
"When literature student Anastasia Steele goes to interview young entrepreneur Christian Grey, she encounters a man who is beautiful, brilliant, and intimidating. The unworldly, innocent Ana is startled to realize she wants this man and, despite his enigmatic reserve, finds she is desperate to get close to him. Unable to resist Ana's quiet beauty, wit, and independent spirit, Grey admits he wants her, too -- but on his own terms.

"Shocked yet thrilled by Grey's singular erotic tastes, Ana hesitates. For all the trappings of success -- his multinational businesses, his vast wealth, his loving family -- Grey is a man tormented bu demons and consumed by the need to control. When the couple embarks on a daring, passionately physical affair, Ana discovers Christian Grey's secrets and explores her own dark desires." 

Opening Line:
"I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror."
 
My Take:
Yes, I succumbed. This book generated so much buzz, both rave reviews from adoring fans and the media being all atwitter about it, that I had to see what the big deal was. Frankly, I was underwhelmed. The writing is pretty darned awful, smacking of the mediocre, unedited fan fiction it originally started out as. After the umpteenth description of how Ana "flushed scarlet" or mused that her "inner goddess" was doing something or another, I couldn't help giggling, which probably isn't the reaction James was going for.

As erotica, meh. It has its moments, but I've read better; I don't think adult literature is exempt from the rule that it's tough to get into the spirit of things if the characters are wooden and one-dimensional. Far more remarkable than the book itself, as I see it, is the widespread amazement at its success. Why are we so surprised that women, even women in their 30s and beyond who (gasp!) have children want to read steamy books, or that some of the steamy books they seek out deal with (ahem) varsity-level sexual variations? I'm not even talking directly about what consenting adults might or might not get up to in the privacy of their own bedrooms; like most bibliophiles, I don't want to read only about things that resonate with my own personal experience. If I can read murder mysteries or espionage thrillers without wanting to be a detective or a spy, or can enjoy Terry McMillan's novels without being African-American, well ... why can't I enjoy an adult novel whether or not I share the main characters' intimate proclivities? Maybe the bigger story here is that Fifty Shades' success hints at an unserved need: if this book could become a bestseller despite its sloppy, shoddy writing, might there be a far greater market for woman-oriented erotica than we've been willing to acknowledge up until now?

#86 Trans-Sister Radio

Trans-Sister Radio, by Chris Bohjalian 

(New York: Random House, 2000)

 Summary:
"When schoolteacher Allison Banks develops a crush on university professor Dana Stevens, she knows that he will give her what she needs most: gentleness, kindness, passion. Her daughter, Carly, enthusiastically witnesses the change in her mother. But a few months into their relationship, Dana tells Allison his secret: he has always been certain that he is a woman born into the wrong skin, and soon he will have a sex-change operation. Allison, overwhelmed by the depth of her love, finds herself unable to leave him—but by deciding to stay she must face questions most people never even consider. Not only will her own life and Carly's be irrevocably changed, she will have to contend with the outrage of her small Vermont community and come to terms with her lover's new sense of self—and hope against hope that her love will transcend their ingrained notions of what it means to be a man and a woman."

Opening Line:
"I was eight when my parents separated, and nine when they actually divorced."

My Take:
This is Bohjalian at his peak, worthy to stand alongside Midwives and The Double Bind rather than the remaindered pale shadows of The Night Strangers and its ilk. The story is narrated from four different perspectives: Allison's, Dana's, Carly's (who opens the book with the line above), and that of Allison's ex-husband and Carly's father, Will. Admittedly, I did predict one of the points in the closing, which was probably supposed to be a twist -- probably just because I've read too many novels by Bohjalian and Jodi Picoult. Not sure I totally buy how calmly both Allison and Carly seem to accept Dana's revelation, but the former, at least, is sufficiently well-explained that it's not wholly ridiculous. And I especially enjoyed the reaction from Allison's school community (parents demanding to have their kids transferred out of her class, a wishy-washy first year principal, etc.). If anything, the book could have used a bit more conflict among the main characters; most of it comes from the school, whereas any friction between the protagonists seems minor and quickly resolved. Still a good read, though.

#10: The End of Everything

The End of Everything, by Megan Abbott (New York: Little, Brown, & Co., 2011)

Summary:
"In a placid 1980s suburb in the Midwest, thirteen-year-old Lizzie and her next door neighbor Evie Verver are inseparable, best friends who swap bathing suits and field hockey sticks and between whom, presumably, there are no secrets. Together they live in the shadow of Evie's glamorous older sister Dusty, who provides them a window on the exotic, intoxicating possibilities on their on teenage horizons. To Lizzie, the Verver household, presided over by Lizzie's big-hearted father, is the world's most perfect place.

"And then, one afternoon, Evie disappears. The only clue: a maroon sedan Lizzie spotted driving past the two girls earlier in the day. As a rabid, giddy panic spreads through the balmy suburban community, everyone turns to Lizzie for answers. Was Evie unhappy, troubled, upset? Had she mentioned being followed? Would she have gotten into the car of a stranger? Would Evie have gotten into a car with a man?

"Compelled by curiosity and a desire to rescue the enchanted Verver household from ruin, Lizzie takes up her own furtive pursuit of the truth. Her days spent with a shell-shocked Mr. Verver, she devotes her nights to prowling through backyards, peering through windows, pushing herself to the dark center of Evie's world. Haunted by dreams of her lost friend and titillated by her own new power as the center of the disappearance, Lizzie uncovers secret after secret and begins to wonder if she knew anything about her best friend at all."

Opening Line:
"She, light-streaky out of the corner of my eye."

My Take:
I've sometimes said, upon finishing books by Chuck Palahniuk or even Joyce Carol Oates, that I feel like I need to take a shower afterwards. I don't know if The End of Everything is quite that bad, but I did feel just a little ... I dunno, just icky. Certainly young adolescents' burgeoning awareness of their own sexuality isn't a new theme, and Abbott's combining it with a kidnapping angle is an intriguing idea. But IMO, a little bit of the young girl/ older man thing goes a long way, and in that regard, I think Abbott way overdoes it. Having an Evie who, at some level, wanted a relationship with Mr. Shaw? A narrator who has just a bit of a crush on her best friend's dad? An older sister who's affectionate behavior with her own father is starting to look more than a little inappropriate? Any one, perhaps even two, of these threads might have worked, but all together, they're too much. I went hunting online to see if anyone else had a similar reaction, and found this review by Ana on The Book Smugglers, which captures my problems with this book far more clearly than I could have. She says, in part:

"But I think that what discomfited me the most and makes me wonder is how, because the story is narrated by a naïve, unreliable 13 year old in the 80s, certain things remain unnamed (the setting in the 80s is quite important I think, to explain the lack of awareness?) This story clearly presents a disturbing portrait of things that are not quite right, of things that people won’t talk about or even name. I have nothing against things being open for interpretation but I would argue that even despite the unreliability of this narrator, certain events such as: the culprit being driven by guilt and killing himself in the end; Lizzie’s mother cryptically saying that things are not quite healthy next door; Dusty having serious mental issues, leave no DOUBT in my mind on what we are talking about here: incest as well as paedophilia. And yet the “relationships” between the three girls and older men in this story are constantly framed with the words “love”, “pure” “falling in love or being loved by” older men.

"I keep going back and forth about this, wondering if the narrative (again, by Lizzie, a 13 year old girl) and the 80s setting (and the lack of awareness about these issues) are enough to account for how Lizzie interprets these events and therefore it is down to the reader to name things and point fingers? Not to mention that there are enough consequences to some of the people involved in these events (death, loss of innocence, etc) not to make it an issue of metatextual lack of acknowledgment of those issues. ...

Also one last question: isn’t it disturbing how basically all female characters including the teenagers in this book are either attracted to married men or to much older ones and they are all, to one extent or another, victims of/dependent on those men? Lizzie’s mother is a victim of a marriage gone bad and only starts to recover when she meets a new man (married); Lizzie is a victim of a broken home and the lack of a father and a victim of the bad influence of the next door neighbors; Evie and Dusty are victims of their father; Evie is a victim of Mr Shaw (and a willing one disturbingly so); Evie’s mother is a non-entity, a shadow of her husband and even Mrs Shaw who never shows up on page, willingly helps her husband when he is on the run because apparently she can’t control herself or pities him even though he seems to be the worst husband in the world (not to mention a sick pedophile). I mean, how messed up is that? It is worth noting though that maybe this is totally intentional and meant to be one of those searing looks at American Suburban Life in the 1980s with women in their dependent roles with the poor children in the middle of it all and I am being entirely too contemporary in my interrogation of the text.

"... It is a good book, with positive things but ultimately it is not the sort of book that I, personally, care to read."

#66: Sing You Home

Sing You Home, by Jodi Picoult (New York: Atria Books, 2011).

Summary:
"Zoe Baxter has spent ten years trying to get pregnant, and after multiple miscarriages and infertility issues, it looks like her dream is about to come true -- she is seven months pregnant. But a terrible turn of events leads to a nightmare -- one that takes away the baby she has already fallen for, and breaks apart her marriage to Max.

"In the aftermath, she throws herself into her career as a music therapist -- using music clinically to soothe burn victims in a hospital; to help Alzheimer's patients connect with the present; to provide solace for hospice patients. When Vanessa -- a guidance counselor -- asks her to work with a suicidal teen, their relationship moves from business to friendship and then, to Zoe's surprise, blossoms into love. When Zoe allows herself to start thinking of having a family, again, she remembers that there are still frozen embryos that were never used by herself and Max.

"Meanwhile, Max has found peace at the bottom of a bottle -- until he is redeemed by an evangelical church, whose charismatic pastor -- Clive Lincoln -- has vowed to fight the 'homosexual agenda' that has threatened traditional family values in America. But this mission becomes personal for Max, when Zoe and her same-sex partner say they want permission to raise his unborn child.

"Sing You Home explores what it means to be gay in today's world, and how reproductive science has outstripped the legal system. Are embryos people or property? What challenges do same-sex couples face when it comes to marriage and adoption? What happens when religion and sexual orientation -- two issues that are supposed to be justice-blind -- enter the courtoom? And most importantly, what constitutes a 'traditional family' in today's day and age?"

Opening Line:
"One sunny, crisp Saturday in September when I was seven years old, I watched my father drop dead."

My Take:
One of Picoult's better ones. The fact that she limits herself to three characters' different vantage points (Zoe's, Vanessa's, and Max's) helps, as does the remarkable lack of surprise dead children at the end. (Other Picoult veterans will understand.) As one review I came across noted, the book's treatment of the fundamentalists isn't exactly even-handed, and something about Max's brother Reid just seemed too #$%^& perfect to be true (Reid's equally perfect wife, Liddy, works a wee bit better, partly because we see more of her and learn at least something of what makes her tick), but hey -- for a light but not too light piece o' chick lit, it was about what I'd hoped for and better than I'd expected.

#52: The Uncoupling

The Uncoupling, by Meg Wolitzer (New York: Riverhead Books, 2011).

Summary:
"When the elliptical new drama teacher at Eleanor Roosevelt High school in Stellar Plains, New Jersey chooses as the school play Lysistrata -- the Aristophanes comedy in which women stop having sex with men in order to end a war -- a strange spell seems to be cast over the school. Or, at least, over the women.

"One by one, throughout the high school community, women and teenaged girls suddenly turn away from their husbands and boyfriends in the bedroom, for reasons they don't really understand. Dory Lang, a happily married forty-something English teacher, is mystified when she abruptly loses the desire to have sex with Robby, her cherished spouse of nearly twenty years. One after another, her friends admit to having the same perplexing and disturbing experience. They include Bev, a fiftyish overweight guidance counselor married to an anxious hedge fund manager; Leanne, a young psychologist of South Asian background with three boyfriends and no wish to be monogamous; and Ruth, a formerly lesbian gym teacher now married to a male sculptor, with whom she has twin boys and a new baby. And not long after Dory's daughter, Willa, has fallen under a very different spell -- one of teenaged infatuation and sexual discovery -- the sixteen-year-old suddenly feels the need to put an end to her new romantic relationship.

"As all these women worry over their loss of passion, and as the men become by turns unhappy, offended, and confused, both sides are forced to look at their partners, their shared history, and their sexual selves in an entirely new light."

Opening Line:
"People like to warn you that by the time you reach the middle of your life, passion will begin to feel like a meal eaten long ago, which you remember with great tenderness."

My Take:
Now that's what I'm talking about! I honestly don't recall liking The Ten Year Nap all that much -- back when I read it, it seemed unoriginal and tedious -- but maybe I just caught it on a bad day; after The Uncoupling, I may just be willing to go dig up another copy and give it another try. This book is brilliant -- high literature, no, but at once very funny, packed with trenchant, witty observations about upper middle class suburban culture (I'm still chuckling at the teenaged characters spending hours online in a Second Life-esque cyberworld called Farrest, and the two-person Snuggy ripoff one of the deprived husband orders called -- get this -- the Cumfy) ... and at other times, surprisingly poignant and sad. OK, I did knock it off in a day and managed to get some other things done besides, but it was a very good read nonetheless, and precisely what the doctor ordered right about now.

#39 - Beyond (Straight and Gay) Marriage

Beyond (Straight and Gay) Marriage: Valuing All Families under the Law, by Nancy D. Polikoff (Boston: Beacon Press, 2008) was excellent -- illuminating, clearly-written, and provocative.

Summary: "Polikoff (law, American U. Washington College of Law) takes issue with the concept of marriage and argues that it makes unmarried couples of any sexual orientation, single-parent households, extended family units, and others unable to reap the benefits of the law. She asserts that marriage is not the cure for the disadvantages faced by same-sex couples, but that married couples should not have rights that other family forms do not. She argues that the law should not give marriage more value, as it is not a family form that is more important than others. Topics addressed include feminism and gay rights, the marriage-equality movement, countries where marriage matters less than in the US, domestic partner benefits, medical care and family and medical leave, distribution of assets and providing for children, wrongful death, worker's compensation, and Social Security."

Table of Contents:

1. The Changing Meaning of Marriage
2. Gay Rights and the Conservative Backlash
3. Redefining Family
4. The Right and the Marriage Movement
   
5. LGBT Families and the Marriage-Equality Movement
6. Countries Where Marriage Matters Less
7. Valuing All Families
   
8. Domestic Partner Benefits for All Families
9. Coping with Illness: Medical Care and Family and Medical Leave
10. When a Relationship Ends through Dissolution or Death: Distributing Assets and Providing for Children
11. Losing an Economic Provider: Wrongful Death, Workers' Compensation, and Social Security
    

My take: As suggested above, an excellent book. While Polikoff supports same-sex couples' right to marry, her chief argument here is that marriage should be beside the point. Rather, all family units -- gay couples, unmarried male-female couples, single parents, adults caring for elderly or disabled relatives -- should receive the same support we (the U.S.) currently reserve exclusively for marriage. She suggests that the caretaking dyad -- the relationship between those who can't help being dependent on someone else for their care and well-being, i.e., children and those with disabilities, and their caregivers -- rather than the marital relationship be the focus of our social safety net, whether that's survivors' benefits when a wage-earner dies or providing medical leave and insurance for whoever one has an interdependent relationship with. Good stuff -- the kind of thing that's so well-articulated that it seems like it should have been obvious a long time ago.

121 - Reality Gap

#121 was Reality Gap: Alcohol, Drugs, and Sex -- What Parents Don't Know and Teens Aren't Telling, by Stephen Wallace (Union Square Press, 2008).

Dust jacket excerpt: "On one side of the reality gap that gives this book its title are parents' wishful perceptions of what their teens are up to when mom and dad aren't watching. On the other side is the truth. For decades, the gap has been widening -- damaging and even destroying young lives. In this often alarming but ultimately hopeful and life-saving book, Stephen Wallace, the chairman and CEO of SADD (Students Against Destructive Decisions), shares groundbreaking research revealing what teens aren't telling their parents."

OK, so the title and blurb sound a little hysterical. And I know, I know -- I swore off the fear-mongering perils of adolescence tracts all of, what, a month ago? Forgive me; I was weak. (Besides, this one was already in the bull pen when I finished Disappearing Girl and made said vow. And heaven knows, if I don't always read my library books in the proper, preordained order, Bad Things just may happen.)

This will not be a marathon review akin to my last 2, but sometimes, I guess low expectations are a good thing. I didn't agree with all Wallace's points, and he does tend to go over the top at times ... but he did have some useful ideas, and his research methodology (a 6-year, randomly-sampled national survey of middle and high school students) seemed on the whole fairly sound. The book's central thesis is that a much higher percentage of adolescents are engaging in risky behavior (drinking, using drugs, driving dangerously, having sex, and contemplating suicide), and at much younger ages, than their parents tend to expect. Some of the summary stats Wallace throws the reader's way:

• 20% of 8th graders and 50% of 12th graders report consuming alcohol within the past 30 days. 20% of 8th graders have been drunk at least once, and 30% of 12th graders have engaged in at least 1 episode of binge drinking.
• 46% of 12th graders report at least some drug use; those who do use drugs begin, on average, at 13.
• 25% of middle schoolers and 2/3 of high school students have engaged in sexual activity other than kissing; over half of high school students report having had intercourse.
• 33% of teen drivers don't wear a seat belt; over 60% speed and/or talk on their cell phones while driving; and 20% have driven under the influence of drugs or alcohol.

Based on the research methods he outlines in the introduction, I'm inclined to think the above numbers fairly accurate, although I do wish he'd been a bit clearer in some of his definitions. For example, does the percentage of teens who use drugs include anyone who's ever taken a toke of a joint, or even bummed a prescription-strength pain reliever off a friend? Or does it only count repeat or habitual users? Likewise, "sexual activity other than kissing" can encompass a wide range of behaviors. One might argue that any illegal drug use or sexual activity is in appropriate for adolescents. At least for drugs and alcohol, this does seem to be Wallace's argument. While I tend to agree when it comes to illegal drug use, I'm not so sure about alcohol -- and even if I were, the way I'd approach teen drinking or drug use might well vary based on whether my child got caught with beer at a party once, or was coming home drunk every weekend. Wallace does distinguish between 3 categories of adolescent behavior around risky decision-making (avoiders, who eschew alcohol/ drugs/ sex altogether; experimenters, who indulge occasionally; and repeaters, who do so regularly), and acknowledges that "knowing where a teen falls on this continuum of decision-making is crucial, because this information allows us to plan our communication, prevention, and intervention strategies accordingly," so this oversight is somewhat surprising.

After a chapter outlining the prevalence of various dangerous behaviors, Wallace proceeds to the "Risky Business" chapter, discussing why each of these activities is dangerous. When it comes to alcohol, he repeatedly comes back to the point that teens whose parents allow them to drink at home, even if it's just on special occasions, are almost 4 times as likely to drink with their friends as are those whose parents allow now underage drinking whatsoever. Maybe I'm being self-serving here, but I'm not sure I buy it -- or at least, I'm not sure there's not some third factor at work here (e.g., perhaps some of the parents who never allow drinking have religious prohibitions against it, which their kids would also be likely to have). As the chairman of SADD, it's not surprising that Wallace wants to take a hard, absolute line against teen drinking, but I'm also not sure it tells the whole story. Granted, drinking or possessing alcohol is illegal if you're under 21, which opens you up to a whole host of potential legal problems. Additionally, alcohol is a factor in many bad decisions about sex, driving, and other risky activities -- perhaps more so for teens, who are still fairly new to all 3. I'll even allow that excess drinking may be more dangerous to children and adolescents, whose brains aren't yet fully developed, than to adults. That said, however, the fact that many (granted, not all) adults can drink safely in moderation, and that many other countries allow at least some teens to drink without negative consequence, suggests that this isn't as simple an issue as he'd have us believe.

One interesting concept Wallace puts forth, which I hadn't really considered before, is that of decision points: predictable times when first-time experimentation with certain behaviors is likely to take place. He argues:

"Negative risk-taking tends to increase throughout adolescence. This trend presents an inherent problem -- an inverse correlation of parental persuasion. The younger teens are, the more likely they are to listen to the views and directions of their parents. Yet the behaviors their parents find most troublesome don't often appear until later in adolescence, when their opinions hold more limited sway. But by discussing certain issues before they are likely to become relevant, parents lay the groundwork for good decision-making by well-prepared teens. 'Early and often' remins an important catch phrase in educating young people about healthy choices -- before they 'jump the shark.'"

He goes on to suggest that drinking tends to increase between 6th and 7th grades, drug use between 8th and 9th, and sexual activity between 10th and 11th, and to explore the reasons why kids may choose at these times either to drink (or smoke, or ... ) or not.

From here, it's an extended and not particularly ground-breaking few chapters on how to talk to your teenager. (Summary: Don't avoid tough topics; bring them up in a casual, non-judgmental way; make your values and expectations clear.) Similarly, while I agree in principle with the idea of gradually shifting responsibility from parents to teens as the latter grow up, this isn't exactly new information.

So, in a word, eh. While I may now be thinking about locking up my liquor cabinet sooner rather than later, this certainly isn't a life-changing read.

#78 - The Lolita Effect

Just took a foray into non-fiction again with The Lolita Effect: The Media Sexualization of Young Girls and What We Can Do About It, by M. Gigi Durham (Overlook Press, 2008). Having read more than a few hysterical and/or oversimplified books on this topic, I was a bit skeptical at first, but ended up being pleasantly surprised. Not only is The Lolita Effect far more balanced and nuanced than So Sexy So Soon, but it also scores high on readability.

The nuance begins with the title. Durham argues that while we (popular culture) have come to use "Lolita" to describe a young girl who deliberately behaves in a seductive manner, Dolores Haze, the original Lolita in that book by Nabokov, is not an intentional nymphet, but an innocent victim of her predatory, pedophile stepfather, Humbert Humbert. (True confessions time: shamefully, I haven't actually read Lolita, so I'm taking Durham's word for this.) She is also emphatic about not being anti-sex or advocating censorship. On the contrary, she suggests that previous works and authors on this topic (hel-LO, Mary Pipher!) have often tended toward an overly dualistic, "moral panic" approach that makes for some strange bedfellows (i.e., traditional, mostly Christian conservatives and progressive, usually sex-positive parents and teachers). Explains Durham,

"[I]t is not girls' sexuality in and of itself that is a problem; the problem is that the expression of girls' sexuality seems to be possible only within an extremely restrictive framework. Girls' sexuality, it seems, has to comply with the markers of sexuality that we recognize, and it cannot be manifested, recognized, or mobilized in other, potentially more empowering and supportive, ways."

Most of the book is devoted to defining the five myths that constitute the Lolita effect. These are as follows:

1. Sexuality equals looking sexy, or, in Durham's words, "if you've got it, flaunt it."
   
2. Exactly what looks (and therefore, is) sexy ("hot," in common parlance) is very narrowly defined. In short, the perfect girl/ woman looks like Barbie. Not only is this an unrealistic, unhealthy ideal for girls to aspire to, but it's racist and classist (after all, who has the money to buy The Look?) to boot.
3. Younger is better -- not just as in, society thinks women in their 20s are more attractive than those in their mothers' generation, but as in, very young, still a girl. Hearken back to the days of Britney Spears' Catholic school miniskirt-wearing, pigtail-sporting, lollipop-sucking debut, among other examples.
4. Violence is sexy. Here, Durham cites slasher films, music videos and lyrics, and violent video games a la Grand Theft Auto as examples.
   
5. Sexy is defined for and by the male gaze. Boys choose girls, girls are sex objects, and alternate pairings -- male-male, female-female, or even non-traditional male-female -- Just Don't Exist.
   

Durham is a professor of journalism and communication, so it's not surprising that the remedies she proposes tend heavily toward increased media literacy and consumer education. Again, she's very clear about not advocating censorship, partly because that's a slippery slope that might lead us to censor Lolita and Romeo and Juliet, and partly because she takes the matter-of-fact position that yes, children and adolescents are sexual, and we need to respect and acknowledge that ... it's just that we should be doing so in "more empowering and supportive ways" than we've tended to see of late. Her list of internet and print resources is impressive and useful, as well. It's been a while since I've said this of a book on parenting and/or sexuality, but I recommend this one highly.

#68 - I'm Too Sexy

Not sure what I think about this one. #68 was So Sexy So Soon: The New Sexualized Childhood and What Parents Can Do to Protect Their Kids, by Diane E. Levin and (Ballantine, 2008). On one hand, the book does a good job of being interesting and compelling but not alarmist; on the other, doesn't really cover much new ground. If you're interested in the topic (for more details, check the official web site for the book here) and haven't read much about it, this one's worth reading; if you're already fairly familiar, you probably won't get much new from this book.