*sigh*
I was bitten last Sunday by the worst kind of venomous creature: the Twilight phenomenon.
To the detriment of most other things, including housework, television, computer time, and even any kind of mothering beyond the absolute necessities, I read the entire Twilight series in one week. Four books. Sunday to Sunday. That's 2,379 pages, according to Wiki Answers. Sheesh.
As many of you know, I'm a bit of a manic-depressive kind of reader. I go for months without reading much of anything beyond Entertainment Weekly, then I find a couple of good novels and read fanatically for a couple of weeks, then go back to my "dormant" phase. I'm not one of those readers who can read a chapter, feel satisfied, and put it down for a day or two until I feel like reading again. Nope. I get obsessive and MUST know how it will end. I find myself pulling it out at stop lights, at lunch time at work, and while cooking dinner. It's kind of a problem.
Anyway, now I can't get my head out of the soapy, melodramatic world of Edward (swoon!) and Bella. Dude. I am officially immature. I couldn't feel more than mild annoyance over Bella's "frail", relatively helpless demeanor, or Edward being a bit of a control freak, or Jacob and Edward both having those "Bella is mine!" thoughts. I couldn't even get annoyed that the author uses the same stupid words over and over and over again to describe the characters and events. I don't get it - I don't usually go for sappy love stories. I've never even watched soap operas! I guess maybe it was the supernatural aspect that hooked me, because I've never met a supernatural thriller kind of thing that I didn't like.
And so, even though the movie is getting so-so (at best) reviews, and even though I heard it described as "a 1 hour and 45 minute Abercrombie and Fitch ad", I will go see the movie. I will go by myself if I cannot convince someone to put their dignity aside and come with me to a movie about teenage vampire love. Worse yet, I'm eagerly looking forward to it!
Ok, a small part of the reason I picked it up was because of an article in EW about the author, Stephenie Meyer. What appeals to me about her story is that she never set out to be a writer - she just had a vivid dream one night and then sat down and started doing it. Writing. After her three young sons were in bed, she wrote a novel. Then, she joined a small writer's group and got feedback, and then she Googled how to get published. And now she's a superstar with multiple book deals, a killer agent, a finished motion picture, and potentially another in the works....
Why can't I do that?? Where is the discipline I need to sit for hours, letting the imagination I've always prided myself on spill out into something people might actually want to read? Where is my drive to do something I enjoy rather than something that pays the bills?
Anyway, enough of me whining! Loved the books, despite their frothiness and "no mental heavy lifting" status. Loved 'em! Can't wait to see the film, no matter how mindless it may be. Oh, and Robert Pattinson is totally dreamy as Edward. Meow!
