Interesting blog post today on the sustaining power of a genre with which I have absolutely no familiarity; The Girl's Pony Novel.
Because it's lifestyle porn, of which most genre fiction happens to be. Here's where I once again make a statement and lay out no supporting facts and clip the entry short because I have a headache.
Among the welter of sweetshop colours, glittery titles and garish graphics that indicate you've strayed into the children's section of a mainstream British bookshop, you'll find, for boys, bad smells, farting facts, juvenile spies and predatory bottoms, and for girls, ballerinas, fairies, princesses and … ponies. Series upon series of pony books – Sandy Lane Stables, Pony Pals, Pony Club Secrets – even, God preserve us, Katie Price's Perfect Ponies. And the question I want to ask is: why?
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