Anoushka Warden’s debut novel bowls in from line one like a mixture of Adrian Mole, Victoria Wood, Kathy Lette and a vintage Just Seventeen article that encourages you to look at your undercarriage in a hand mirror: “By my mid-20s I thought I had my fanny and its workings all figured out… I just had this deep trust in it. That it was doing what it was supposed to be doing. Which, primarily, was finding orgasms from all the ways possible to it, ie fingerings, lickings and dry humping.” For the next 40 pages, it proceeds as an “autovagiography”, with the men this “fanny” encounters being ranked on an itemised “Top Humps” scoreboard: “Spanish Alan… always carried lube in a mini bumbag (for his bike).”
