If you read Cynthia Heimel’s one-of-a-kind masterpiece Sex Tips For Girls, you may have been thinking of picking up the sequel. I certainly was. But now that I have, please allow me to convince you not to make the same mistake. If by any chance, you haven’t read the original, don’t waste your time here – go out and buy it, post-haste. Just don’t grab this one in error.

The original Sex Tips For Girls was brilliant, funny, and touching, with witty observations, pointed anecdotes, and a defining theme. This far inferior sequel lacks all of the aforementioned qualities. It has observations, certainly, but they are meandering re-runs of ideas that were fresh and new in the 1983 original, but far less so 19 years later.

There’s one notable exception to the tedium; the concept of relationship complicity, addressed in the second chapter. It’s the best part of the book, and believe me, it’s all downhill from page 22 on. Instead we are treated to unamusing anecdotes here – almost all about her dogs (all six of them) and her recent failed marriage. Unlike her succinct and theme-appropriate memoirs of her evil ex Brian (see original STFG), her musings regarding this latest trainwreck are lacking in direction, and sound a lot more like whining for sympathy than pithy dissections for the education of the modern romance-minded girl.

Everything that made me recommend this author in the past has disappeared from this criminally misnamed – and miscategorized – volume. Other fans will certainly remember Cleo, Rita, Kate, Marta, and the unforgettable cast that made us see ourselves in a new light in the first book. But they’ve vanished by this one, taking with them the humor and the insight and the wisdom, leaving only a cranky menopausal woman and her six dogs, and not much left to say. Which is probably why this book is so short – 221 pages, but take out the blank pages, title pages, and wasted space (all included in the page count, I’m afraid), and you’re down to about 150 pages. Actually, take out all the “wasted” space, and you’re down to about 10 pages, tops. For $22.00? Not of my money.

Honestly, I wish there were something more I could say about this book – something nice, preferably, after the years I’ve spent re-reading this book’s extraordinary predecessor. But there’s so little there, and what is there is neither entertaining nor edifying in any way. I was disappointed, and you will be too, if you still choose to read it. And that’s about all I can say.

So do yourself a favor. Skip this one, and curl up with your copy of the original Sex Tips. You will be glad you did.