This week I have not written like I usually do.  I have not watered my flowers as often as is normal.  I have not really exercised.  I have not willingly gotten up from the couch, even to go to bed. 

Why?  Because I am obsessed with Stephanie Meyer’s books.  I finished Twilight and tricked Joe into stopping by Target so I could pick up the other three books in the series.  I have been devouring them ever since.  It’s really crazy to me, because I’m not into fantasy literature.  I’ve avoided the books for a long time because the idea of vampires and humans having a relationship was ludicrous to me.  And I have to admit, the books have some of that element.  I’ve been entertaining Joe for the past couple of nights by summarizing whatever part I happen to be reading.  It sounds ridiculous when you say it aloud.  A vampire and a human?  A vampire, human, and a werewolf?  Imprinting on each other?  It’s hilarious.

But the books offer a really tender and passionate love story too, which is probably the main reason that I like them so much.  I’m embarrassed to admit it, because pretty much since I graduated from high school, I have shunned romance novels at all costs.  But these stories are different.  It’s hard to explain the attraction.  This series should be the opposite of everything I like to read.  Instead, I’m already having trouble imagining what on EARTH I’m going to read when I’m going to read when I’m done.