While most of my peers wrote about Harper Lee or Sylvia Plath and their various works, I decided to write about sparkly vampires. It was a legimiate college research paper with citations and shit for English 493: American Women Writers. Fifteen pages, people.
Yeah.
I bashed Stephenie Meyer for ruining the American vampire archetype that so many better writers worked hard to create before her. I don't even know what that means anymore, but it was a good paper that saved my grade from all the damage I did for skipping class every week. (Sorry, Dr. Roberts. It wasn't you - it wasme my alarm clock.)
But I love the Twilight series. Like, no-joke-don't-hate-you-best-step-off-right-now variety of love.
I started reading Twilight in 2008 when my husband was just my new boyfriend. I'm not sure how or why I picked the book up, but I did not put it down until Edward and Bella went to the prom because, you know, that's the end of the first book.
It was like I got slapped in the face because there I was, an English literature major, having just read a glorified romance novel about virginal vampires complete with cheesy dialogue, and totally loving it. If my professors and peers could have seen me then, I'm pretty sure they would have disenrolled me from the English program right away.
Vampires? Werewolves? Long, drawn out descriptions about clothes and hair? I'm in!
As soon as I finished the first book, I actually insisted that my then-boyfriend-now-husband take me to the nearest Barnes & Noble (in Billings, Montana...let me tell you what, that was quite a scavenger hunt) so that I could buy New Moon and Eclipse because I needed to read them, like, yesterday.
I'm not sure what he was thinking, but I must have looked crazed and dangerous enough to convince him to take me to the bookstore right then and there. It's the same look I have when I am bringing Double Stuf Oreos home from the grocery store.
It means I'm fucking serious.
OK, yeah, the books are little on the fluffy side, and there are some smutty moments here and there, but what's the crime in that? I know that I hated on Stephenie Meyer for being the Worst Writer Ever in a 15-page-long research paper, but I'm really not one to judge considering how frequently I throw unnecessary adjectives and adverbs around this place.
I honestly wrote a paper about Twilight because it gave me an excuse to re-read the series, and I didn't read any of the books on the reading list for that course. Woops.
Team Jacob.
Yeah.
I bashed Stephenie Meyer for ruining the American vampire archetype that so many better writers worked hard to create before her. I don't even know what that means anymore, but it was a good paper that saved my grade from all the damage I did for skipping class every week. (Sorry, Dr. Roberts. It wasn't you - it was
But I love the Twilight series. Like, no-joke-don't-hate-you-best-step-off-right-now variety of love.
I started reading Twilight in 2008 when my husband was just my new boyfriend. I'm not sure how or why I picked the book up, but I did not put it down until Edward and Bella went to the prom because, you know, that's the end of the first book.
It was like I got slapped in the face because there I was, an English literature major, having just read a glorified romance novel about virginal vampires complete with cheesy dialogue, and totally loving it. If my professors and peers could have seen me then, I'm pretty sure they would have disenrolled me from the English program right away.
Vampires? Werewolves? Long, drawn out descriptions about clothes and hair? I'm in!
As soon as I finished the first book, I actually insisted that my then-boyfriend-now-husband take me to the nearest Barnes & Noble (in Billings, Montana...let me tell you what, that was quite a scavenger hunt) so that I could buy New Moon and Eclipse because I needed to read them, like, yesterday.
I'm not sure what he was thinking, but I must have looked crazed and dangerous enough to convince him to take me to the bookstore right then and there. It's the same look I have when I am bringing Double Stuf Oreos home from the grocery store.
It means I'm fucking serious.
OK, yeah, the books are little on the fluffy side, and there are some smutty moments here and there, but what's the crime in that? I know that I hated on Stephenie Meyer for being the Worst Writer Ever in a 15-page-long research paper, but I'm really not one to judge considering how frequently I throw unnecessary adjectives and adverbs around this place.
I honestly wrote a paper about Twilight because it gave me an excuse to re-read the series, and I didn't read any of the books on the reading list for that course. Woops.
Team Jacob.
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