We're feeling pretty pleased with ourselves on the books desk this morning - and it isn't often we can say that the morning after a literary award. Bucking a trend stretching back, ooh years, we managed to finger Iain Hollingshead as the winner of the Literary Review's Bad Sex prize.
Those of you who were brave enough to read extracts from the shortlisted entries (and can I just apologise right here and right now for any distress caused) may feel that this was an easy pick, even a shoo-in perhaps, but after the long years of hurt, we're celebrating an unequivocal success. Not that we know anything about bad sex, of course ...
