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Now we’re not going to be all disingenuous and pretend we didn’t know that Eloisa James was a pseudonym. We knew she (the real person) was a highly regarded scholar, etc, etc. In fact, the only surprise we felt upon reading this article was…hmm, no surprise at all. How peculiar.

Actually, it’s refreshing when a romance author addresses the realities of writing in the genre — especially when those realities butt up against academia and, shall we say, fear of the unknown. James makes an interesting point: denying what she writes shames her readers. And, of course, we wouldn’t be us if we didn’t take special delight at this:

“Bodice-ripper” is a term still used frequently by the New York Times, for example, although it’s hopelessly out of date. But it inculcates a distaste toward women’s sexuality that lies at the root of the disapprobation of romance.

Which is (almost) exactly what we’ve been saying all along.

• Love’s Labors – A Shakespeare professor confesses a terrible secret: She writes romance fiction, pseudonymously.