If you haven't read Twilight and you plan to you shouldn't read this. Or maybe it won't matter, I haven't finished the book and if you don't know that it's about a HS girl and a vampire you've been living in a cave.
I've started reading Twilight, which I borrowed from our neighbor. Every female, of every age, seems to be or have read it, so I thought I should too.Awesome neighbor Dawn read it in a two day frenzy, and forgot to pick up her children at school. Austin's girlfriend is reading it in a steam heat. There must be something wrong with me.
First, I don't think it's well written. This is not a sin, I didn't think the Harry Potter books were well written, but they engrossed me, they still do. A tale of forbidden love, which is what Twilight is, as far as I can tell (I'm not done with it yet) it should certainly be a good read. The setting isn't real for me, and seriously, if you can't make the Olympic Peninsula real, what the heck? For me, it's not enough to describe a Sitka Spruce (and what about the majority of the trees, those Western Red Cedars, or the Alders?) but the forest has a smell all its own, as does the beach. As far as I can tell, no one in her world has a nose.
It also requires everyone in the book to be an idiot. She's stupid, her vampire lover is dumb as a door nail for someone who must be very old (and really, he's going to fall in love with a 17 year old girl and why is he going to high school? Really? I hope she makes that clear) and everyone in the town, especially her father, is an idiot.
Perhaps I wouldn't know if vampires walked among us. Probably not. I suspect I would know if I went to school with one in a small town of a few hundred people where they'd been living for more than a century and the kids on the rez all know about it. Seriously, you think they don't talk to other kids? Really? My credulity is aching.
I'm about half way through, but it isn't gripping me. I can see rivets and bolts and things clank in the night. Maybe I'm too old for young love. But Jeez, she has a whole chapter where she wastes words on words and not only does nothing happen, we don't learn anything new about any of our characters. Have mercy and just rip it out.
It's interesting enough I'll finish it, but it's a chore.
FWIW, neighbor Dawn got the sequel. She can't read it. It has bored her already. I think that's a sign.
We went to see Streetcar Named Desire last night. It was superb. Well worth going to if you are in Seattle. Very excellent. And we over ate first at Roti. Also excellent, but shouldn't over eat. What I like about seeing something good, really good, is that a good movie, or a good performance leads to long discussions afterwards. I love that. I wish, on occasion, someone would give me beautiful dialog to say like Tennesee Williams gave his characters. My words are just ordinary, but not his. Oh no, on occasion, they speak poetry. Oh for a writer to craft my dialog.
Yesterday I got the most amusing rejection. Mostly I look and see if it's a yes or no and mark it off. Last night I chuckled. The London William Morriss Agency caught my attention with a very chatty rejection that started off with: Dear E, and then went on to describe how they'd all sat around a big round table and read the ms and discussed it, but only some of them loved and it and has to be 100% consensus to take it, and it was so chatty and tea and biscuits it made me laugh. It was a rejection, but seriously, I don't care about those. It was that informal, Dear E, as if we'd known each other for years. What a hoot.
And today I go to the zoo and fling pooh with
scarlettina, no wait, we watch monkeys fling pooh. I keep forgetting we don't do the flinging of pooh ourselves. I best put the paper bag back. Dang.