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I had started on the marriage and motherhood beat by accident with a post on my personal, read only by friends, blog called __ifty Shades of Men_. I had written it after buying Fifty Shades of Grey to spice up what Dave and I half-jokingly called our grown up time, and had written a meditation on how the sex wasn__ the sexiest part of the book. __ear publishers, I will tell you why every woman with a ring on her finger and a car seat in her SUV is devouring this book like the candy she won__ let herself eat._ I had written. __t__ not the fantasy of an impossibly handsome guy who can give you an orgasm just by stroking your nipples. It is instead the fantasy of a guy who can give you everything. Hapless, clueless, barely able to remain upright without assistance, Ana Steele is that unlikeliest of creatures, a college student who doesn__ have an email address, a computer, or a clue. Turns out she doesn__ need any of those things. Here is the dominant Christian Grey and he__l give her that computer plus an iPad, a beamer, a job, and an identity, sexual and otherwise. No more worrying about what to wear. Christian buys her clothes. No more stress about how to be in the bedroom. Christian makes those decisions. For women who do too much__hich includes, dear publishers, pretty much all the women who have enough disposable income to buy your books__his is the ultimate fantasy: not a man who will make you come, but a man who will make agency unnecessary, a man who will choose your adventure for you.