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Read any women's magazine and you'll see the same complaint over and over again: men - those little boys ten or twenty or thirty years on - are hopeless in bed. They are not interested in "foreplay"; they have no desire to stimulate the erogenous zones of the opposite sex; they are selfish, greedy, clumsy, unsophisticated. These complaints, you can't help feeling, are ironic. Back then, all we wanted was foreplay, and girls weren't interested. They didn't want to be touched, caressed, stimulated, aroused; in fact, they used to thump us if we tried. It's not really very suprising, then, that we're not much good at all that. We spent two or three long and extremely formative years being told very forcibly not even to think about it. Between the ages of fourteen and twenty-four, foreplay changes from being something that boys want to do and girls don't, to something that women want and men can't be bothered with. (Or so they say. Me, I like foreplay - mostly because the times when all I wanted to do was touch are alarmingly fresh in my mind.) The perfect match, if you ask me, is between the Cosmo woman and the fourteen-year-old boy.


Nick Hornby


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Several of Hornby's books have made the jump from page to screen. The novel about a neurotic record collector and his failed relationships was adapted into a 2000 film starring John Cusack and a Broadway musical in 2006. Their album Lonely Avenue was released in September 2010.

His books have sold more than 5 million copies worldwide as of 2009. His work frequently touches upon music sport and the aimless and obsessive natures of his protagonists. He is best known for the novels High Fidelity and About a Boy as well as for the football memoir Fever Pitch.

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