My teenaged porn, aside from the actual porn (wow, that Candy was sure one dumb broad), was sci-fi. There was one series that had these lizard men with bipartite penises. Embarassingly, my parents still have my copy of ... whatever that was. And of course, Jondalar. Mmm, good.

Heaven is the one who grows up backwoods hillbilly poor, has a crush on her (alleged) half-brother, a sexual relationship with her foster father, then ... help me. I remember she moves in with her birth mother's family and sleeps with someone there, but I don't remember whether it's her step-grandfather or what.

And doesn't she, like Dawn, ultimately marry a boy she was raised as a sister to? Or am I making that up?

I never connected the incest in V.C. Andrews to my actual personal brother, probably because he was about 11 when I was reading them and barely registered in my self-involved teenage mind. And also because ewwwww.

Seconding the ewwww but otherwise, I did think there was some interesting potential in the first one...but the others, yeah, not so much.

There was one series that had these lizard men with bipartite penises

I think I read that Star Trek fic...oh, wait, isn't that what you meant?

Dawn married who?

Not Dawn Summers. Dawn ?Coulter? of the V.C. Andrews series. My memory might be playing tricks on me, but I thought she married Jimmy, who she thought was her brother until she was 15.

Right. Most of the V. C. Andrews I've run across hews closely to the mold of "unwanted sexual attention from heretofore unknown biological relatives; wanted sexual attention from non-biological relatives heretofore believed to be biological."

The former, whatever, it seems like an exploitation concept -- danger in the new household. The latter is the disturbing, taboo-crossing part, since genes are not the sum total of personality.

I always wondered what the Andrews appeal is: I don't know many women who did not have at least a passing experience with her books during adolescence. I suppose it's the easy reading, the female teen protagnists, the dramatic formula, and the relatively non-explicit sex. But you know, except for the taboo-crossing, Andrews novels are really unremarkable horror-romantic literature: Our Young Heroine is thrown into a new situation; struggles with creeptastic elements of the situation past and present; and by renewing a relationship with someone from before, gains confidence and triumphs over the new creepiness. It's your classic Oprah narrative trajectory, complete with a victimhood to overcome.

I suspect that the taboo is the only thing that makes it remarkable. (And, you know, the fact that Andrews was a one-trick pony, so the taboo is repeated endlessly and it's what she's known for.) I do think that suddenly seeing someone you already know as attractive, and becoming able to handle that attraction, is a trope young teenagers identify with; but for the life of me I don't understand why it always has to be the heroine's adoptive brother.

I suppose it's the easy reading, the female teen protagnists, the dramatic formula, and the relatively non-explicit sex.

I think this is exactly it. When you're 14, they feel exciting and smutty, and the heroines are relatively easy to identify with (in retrospect, they're pretty Mary Sue-ish, with the beautiful hair and eyes and artistic talent, but teen girls don't know from Mary Sue). Also, they're about the cuckoo fantasy -- the idea that your Real Parents are richer/smarter/more sophisticated/more beautiful than the parents you know -- and that's a relatively common fantasy. (Though, of course, for V.C. the apple is always poisoned.)

I do think that suddenly seeing someone you already know as attractive, and becoming able to handle that attraction, is a trope young teenagers identify with; but for the life of me I don't understand why it always has to be the heroine's adoptive brother.

One fewer character to juggle, maybe? I can't think of a reason beyond that.

I always figured V.C. had a really hot brother.

Ewwww. My bro is a good-looking fella, but....ewwwwwwwwwwww.

I haven't read a single book from the NYT paperback bestsellers list:

1 THE NOTEBOOK, by Nicholas Sparks.
2 BLEACHERS, by John Grisham.
3 BLINDSIDE, by Catherine Coulter.
4 ANGELS & DEMONS, by Dan Brown.
5 THE WEDDING, by Nicholas Sparks.
6 THE VANISHED MAN, by Jeffery Deaver.
7 WHEN HE WAS WICKED, by Julia Quinn.
8 DECEPTION POINT, by Dan Brown.
9 SENSE OF EVIL, by Kay Hooper.
10 THE BOURNE SUPREMACY, by Robert Ludlum.
11 DARK DESTINY, by Christine Feehan.
12 ANNA KARENINA, by Leo Tolstoy.
13 *THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES, by Sue Monk Kidd.
14 ENTRANCED, by Nora Roberts.
15 WEEKEND WARRIORS, by Fern Michaels.

and moreover, I haven't ever read a single author on the list. so. many. books.

Huh. The paperback bestsellers list is like a greatest hits of beach-reading. Or not even a greatest hits.

I pity the novice spy-novel readers who pick up The Bourne Supremacy hoping for Matt Damon hijinks in Prague; the novel takes place almost entirely in China, and the hero is noticeably middle-aged. (Actually I think the Bourne novels became more elaborately flimsy as they went along, even as they strove for realism in details like Bourne aging. But the basic setup of the first novel is so death-defyingly implausible, I can't imagine it's very easy to maintain that level of damn-the-torpedoes excitement without sacrificing more and more logic.)