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.