Some of the offending passages, excerpted on BBC News, are pretty poorly written. Paul Theroux's line, "Her hands were all over me, four hands it seemed, or more than four," recalls a scene from one of the Naked Gun movies, which is not usually something you want from serious literature. But really the only laugh-out-loud example is from Philip Roth's The Humbling:

It was as if she were wearing a mask on her genitals, a weird totem mask, that made her into what she was not and was not supposed to be.

It's possible that Roth's actually trying to be funny with his vadge-mask image (is this like a cock bib?), and none of the other nominees is really all that terrible. But neither are they hot. As Booker Prize judge Lucasta Miller points out, it's not so hard to write about sex in a silly or funny way. But why is it so tough, at least in capital-L Literature, to make sex actually erotic? Miller offers a clue:

A trap people fall into is an earnest anatomical description of sex. The difficulty with the anatomical is that it can read like a bit of a textbook. To stop it doing so, they will put in flowery metaphors from the animal kingdom, but you don't need that detail. When people use similes and metaphors in their anatomical depictions of the sexual organs, it's toe-curling and embarrassing.

So penis is out, but so is pork-sword? Miller's words sound pretty restrictive, but she also has a point — it's easy for sex writing to sound too clinical, but the farther it veers from straight-up health-class vocabulary, the more it risks being silly. Book critic Melissa Katsoulis says the solution is to avoid writing about sex entirely. She tells the BBC's Tom Geoghegan,

If I was writing a novel, I wouldn't attempt to write it except in the most Victorian and prim way, because it's awful. It's a cliche, but the moments of genuine frisson in books are when hardly anything happens. When you have a dream about someone you fancy, it's because they sat down next to you on the bus or something, not because you were at it, hammer and tongs. Either be suggestive or funny, but trying to do the nuts and bolts isn't going to work.

I'm not sure what kind of sex Katsoulis is having (hammer and tongs?), and I also can't cosign her statement about dreams (a bus?). And in a larger sense, it's a shame that people shy away from sex writing just because it's difficult. Miller says literary sex should focus on "the characters and their emotional state," because "that's the difference between porn and art." But I'm not so sure there's really a clear-cut difference, and I think that if literature is allowed to manipulate our emotions, it should be able to turn us on too.

This is not to say, however, that I have any concrete answers regarding sex writing. I tend to prefer the cheerfully vulgar to both the metaphorical and the clinical, but these are obviously matters of taste. As with actual sex, no sex writing is going to please all the people all the time. But — also as with actual sex — that's no excuse for not doing it.

Is It Difficult To Write Well About Sex? [BBC News]
2009 Bad Sex In Fiction Award Nominees Announced [Seattle Post-Intelligencer: Book Patrol Blog]

Courtesy of The New York Times Magazine

While any novel is better when it considers the perspectives of both men and women, how many examples of classic literature have the reverse problem — that the female characters lack substance and exist only as foils for the men? Any Hemingway novel suffers from this malady; Philip Roth's female characters are a joke and even the more modern Romeos of literary wunderkinds like Ben Kunkel have trouble creating fictional women with any staying power. And yet these novels still manage to get to the pinnacle of the literary pantheon, while any female writer who writes mostly about women and their issues is relegated to the pink ghetto with a fuschia cover and a pair of heels.

And anyway, it's a widely accepted fact that men don't buy books in the first place. Are women more likely to buy something because it's pink? I want to believe that this is untrue, but then again Confessions of a Shopaholic, that carnation-hued mess, was purchased by millions so what do I know?

Weiner Is Talented Enough To Aim Higher [Philadelphia Inquirer via Galley Cat]
'Certain Girls': It's Not A Sure Thing [USA Today]

*Inspired by Shirley MacLaine's assertion that the best parts for actresses fall into one of the above categories.

• Marisa Tomei, The Wrestler: Tomei plays the stripper-girlfriend of a washed-up wrestler played by Mickey Rourke in this drama set in the 1980s. Stripper? Not the same as a hooker for sure, but close enough for our purposes. Also, something tells me that living with a pro-wrestler might lead to some domestic abuse. Just guessing! Verdict: Hooker, with possible undertones of victim.
• Gina Gershon, Love Ranch: Oh, my, GOD this is a must see! Helen Mirren and Joe Pesci are the husband and wife owners of a Nevada brothel (wait, it gets better). They fall into a love triangle with a South American boxer, and according to the Hollywood Reporter, a state senator also becomes entangled in their "sordid affairs." Gershon plays one of the hookers in the love ranch stable. Though I'm dying to see it, the Verdict is still: Hooker.
• Renee Zellweger, My One And Only: In this biopic of actor George Hamilton's life, Zellweger plays his mother, a fancy dame named Anne Deveraux, who is on an East Coast quest to find a rich husband. Verdict: looking for a man to bankroll your lifestyle? That's Hooker behavior through and through.
• Penelope Cruz, Elegy: Cruz plays the student to Ben Kingsley's horny old English professor. Reuters describes Kingsley's character as "charismatic and selfish," and for gods sakes, this movie is based on a Philip Roth novel! Verdict: Victim. Exploiting the power dynamic between professor and student is one of the oldest and grossest tricks in the book.
• Emma Thompson , An Education: Thompson plays the headmistress of a school in this story of a 17-year-old girl who starts dating a 35-year-old sports car driving playboy (Peter Sarsgaard). Thompson's character gets pissed because the girl is putting her chances of admission to Oxford in jeopardy by focusing on her new beau. Verdict: Thompson is OK! 35-year-old dating a teenager? Majorly sketchy.
• Michelle Pfeiffer,Cheri: Pfeiffer is in talks to play the title role in this adaptation of a Collette novel by the same name. She plays a woman who dates the wealthy son of one of her friends. According to Variety, " When he is forced to give up the six-year relationship after marrying someone else, the young man can't forget her and retreats into a fantasy world." Verdict: a woman so alluring that she causes her young honey to go nuts? This broad sounds OK!
• Kristen Bell, When In Rome: Kristen plays a "love-starved" New York City curator who steals magical coins from a fountain in Rome. The magical pocket change causes dudes to aggressively court her like they never have before. Not only does this sound like a blatant rip-off of Love Potion Number 9, but Bell's "love-starved" character sounds like your run-of-the mill romantic comedy heroine Doormat.

Tomei Joins Aronofsky's 'Wrestler' [Variety]
'Ranch' Wrangles Three [Hollywood Reporter]
Zellweger To Star In 'One And Only' [Variety]
Cruz, Kingsley Play Lovers In New Film "Elegy" [Reuters]
'Education' Gets Four Stars [Hollywood Reporter]
Miramax, Pathe Work Out 'Cheri' [Variety]
Bell In 'Rome' At Disney [Hollywood Reporter]

Philip Roth: So the aforementioned Roth! Ol' Phil made his name writing about self-involved, Oedipally-complected Jewish men who fucked nearly-illiterate but gorgeous shiksas and then denigrated them later. Example: Portnoy's Complant where he dehumanizes his object of affection by calling her "the Monkey" and fixating on her physical attributes to the point of fetishization.
Ernest Hemingway: Zelda Fitzgerald once said that The Sun Also Rises was about "Bullfighting, bullslinging, and bullshit," and our girl Z was pretty much on the mark. Lady Brett Ashley, who is the pants-wearing, sexually-emancipated object of affection in the novel, causes only trouble for the men she comes in contact with. Because any woman who acts and dresses "like a man" is a threat to real men and appropriate notions of masculinity.

Charles Bukowski: Attacking Bukowski for misogyny sort of seems like kicking someone when they're down, since Bukowski was such an alcoholic mess most of the time. Sort of! The women in all of Bukowski's stories are one-dimensional cyphers if not actual prostitutes, but one particular story comes to mind in terms of its dastardly portrayal of a woman. It's called "Six Inches." Henry Chinaski, who is Bukowski's alter-ego, marries a woman named Sarah, who boasts a voracious sexual appetite. As the months wear on, Henry starts shrinking, and doesn't stop shrinking until he's 6 inches tall. At that point, Sarah calls him her little pet and puts Henry into her vagina. He describes the experience:

Sarah picked me up and placed me down between her legs, which she spread open just a bit. Then I was facing a forest of hair. I hardened my back and neck muscles, sensing what was to come. I was jammed into darkness and stench. I heard Sarah moan. Then Sarah began to move me slowly back and forth. As I said, the stench was unbearable, and it was difficult to breathe...Suddenly, I was ripped out of that terrible tunnel..."O, my darling! o, my precious little cock! I love you!"

So there's a case to be made for Mailer, Roth, Hemingway, and Bukowski. Who else so you nominate for this literary hall of shame?

Norman Mailer, Towering Writer With Matching Ego, Dies at 84 [New York Times]

Molly Kagan (Debra Messing): Molly is positive that homeless, sexy Sam is innocent of murder and to prove how much she believes in his innocence, she asks him out on a second date. Nevertheless, Sam is arrested for Lou's murder, leaving Molly heartbroken until she comes across none other than Lou himself in a parking garage. Lou explains to Molly that he faked his own death because his job is depressing. Even more fortuitously, Molly realizes that she is Sam's alibi, thereby helping to spring him from jail, and the two get it on, at last.

Joan MacAllister (Judy Davis): Sure, Joan was able to finagle her way out of rehab, but just like Amy Winehouse, she refuses to give up her vices. In fact, her drinking only seems to be getting worse and worse, as does her passing judgment on Sam and Molly's relationship. Joan just can't understand why Molly would want to fuck a homeless man and convicted killer. (Crazy, we know!) The whole thing comes to a messy climax when, drunk and behind the wheel, Joan crashes her car, breaking her nose in the process.

Cricket Stewart (Miranda Otto): Cricket's still a pain in the ass, although she tries to be ultra-supportive of Molly and her relationship with Sam.

Lavender (Anika Noni Rose): Lavender still has no last name. [Because she is black! - Ed.] She and her grandmother are still living with Joan. Grandma says perhaps there is someone in Malibu who needs a little extra money who will permanently rent them a room.

Rodney (Chris Diamantopoulos): Rodney is still poor. He still is being pursued by the ugly gay guy. We are still unsure why he is still poor or where the ugly gay guy came from.

Sam (Stephen Moyer): Sam almost never wears a shirt. Even when being taken to jail. Even when being released from jail.

Philip Roth: Still a strange presence in the series. In the beginning of this particular episode, Sam gives Molly his copy of The Anatomy Lesson. The fact that this is the second time this book has been mentioned can only mean that Roth himself has a deal second only to Pond's when it comes to product placement in this god-awful series. Or that Starter Wife creator Gigi Levangie Grazer is already shopping for her second husband.

Related: 'The Starter Wife': Sadly, We're Still Hooked
The Unexpected Intrigue (And Totally Expected Banality) Of 'The Starter Wife'