Well, it's official: Twilight rocks.
Yes, it's sort of silly. Yes, the book is filled with a lot of hokey dialogue and characterization. Yes, it would be better if about 100 pages of this hokiness was cut out.
I loved it. I couldn't stop reading it. I bought it Saturday afternoon. I sat down on my bed at 8 p.m. to take of my socks. As I took off my first sock I opened to the prologue. And hour and half later I was still sitting there with one sock off, hunched over and hitting page 147. I was infatuated with total dreamboat Edward Cullen. So what if he's a vampire? Nobody's perfect.
Yes, I'm pathetic.
And no, I don't care.
I was still reading at 11:30 when Matt came upstairs.
"Moo! You're still up?" This is surprising because I'm usually sleeping by 9:30. Almost always.
"It's good..." I blurbled. I had a crick in my neck and my eyes hurt but I kept going. "I can't stop."
Then I forced myself to put it down. It was one of the rare stories where I consciously had to slow myself down because I didn't want it to end.
The next afternoon I went to go pick it up again, but it wasn't on my nightstand. I found my husband downstairs but not watching the football game. He was reading my book.
"Oooooh!" he told me. "I just got to the car accident!"
"Oh goodie, it really starts to take off now!"
We started giggling like preteen girls.
This is something I love about my husband. He's an unabashed romantic soul, and is not at all embarrassed by it. He's the type of man who'll light up his Marlboro Red, pour himself a whiskey on the rocks, and then sit and watch a movie like Beaches. And LIKE it. But he's not a girly guy. Far from it. I've never seen my husband cry. Never, ever. One time I asked him about it. "Are you a robot or something?" He's a walking contradiction. But then again, I guess I am, too.
So last night I finished the book. I even reread the last chapter over because I didn't want to be done. Then I read the chapter of the sequel, New Moon. I'm going to probably run out and buy the whole freakin' series this weekend. The book is a success, I think, not just because of its ability to keep you turning the page, which is the ultimate goal of any story, but the author's ability to articulate all the passion and tension and excitement and mystery of what it feels like to be a teenager. And teenage love. I remember that well....everything was so MOMENTOUS and DRAMATIC. NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME! I LOVE YOU! I HATE YOU!
It's quite exhilarating, but my God, it's also exhausting.
So last night Matt comes to bed and snatches up my book. I'm tired and I want to turn the light off.
"No!" screams Matt, a little too desperately. "Let me finish this chapter!"
And after watching this trailer, we're totally going to see the movie. The other funny thing about this book is that we've both been to Forks, Washington. We actually went there on our honeymoon. We spent time in Seattle, Port Townsend, went whale watching up in the San Juan Islands, and also drove to the Olympic National Forest, went up Mt. Olympus, went to the Hoh rain forest and Rialto Beach. That part of the country is sensationally beautiful. We stopped in the tiny town of Forks and had lunch at the local diner. I remembered it because it was a interesting little town with a peculiar name. The locals were very friendly though. Hmmm....