Last night I thought it would be appropriate for a good old fashion book burning. My subject of choice? New Moon, the second book in the Twilight series. I bought the first two books when I was living in Portland, Or because the movie was being filmed there and I wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Twilight was bearable to read, but New Moon was just painful. The spelling errors alone would be enough to make my freshmen English teacher coil back in fear.
Needless to say, I didn’t purchase anymore of Stephanie Meyer’s books.
To my horror, however, just a few months later - as the movie prepared to hit theaters, something horrible happened. It became an epidemic! Everyone had caught the Twilight bug, and for the life of me I could not understand why. Were people not aware that there was better book series? Had they not picked up Douglas Adam’s series? Jo Rowling’s? Were they that clueless, were they that fooled by glittering sexy vampires and underlined themes of abstinence that they actually believed that they were obsessing over the end all be all in literature?
So, it goes without saying… last night as I sat in my cold empty driveway, warming myself to the flames of New Moon, I felt very satisfied.
