Twilight, part deux
I have mixed feelings about the sequels to Twilight. On the one hand, the writing has gotten better, there are less of the pages and pages of nothing but staring into each other’s eyes, and we’ve spent more time with characters I’m a lot more interested in than Edward and Bella; characters such as Carlisle and Alice. But each book is sort of formulaic with nothing much happening for the first 85% of the story and then a whirlwind of action for the last bit. This is both good and bad. I’ve learned that if I just endure the bulk of each book, there’s a reward coming. But then again, I do have to endure the bulk of the book.
On the down side, I’ve gotten to know three very annoying people, Edward, Jacob, and above all, Bella. I was practically screaming at her all through the third book. “Bella! You stupid idiot! Let the supernatural types go fight! Your constant whining and worrying about their safety is a real drag. You are very unpleasant to be around. Shut the hell up for God’s sake.” Honestly, the author has done a remarkably poor job of helping the reader to understand what anyone sees in her. And Jacob is a complete tool in the third book. Sheesh!
I’m about 40% of the way through the fourth book and the author may have changed things up a bit. Some of the interesting stuff has happened earlier than in the other books. It’s a departure but it has made me like this one a lot more. One section I really enjoyed is when Jacob broke from his pack to go do the right thing. I was so stunned and off balance that he was manning up, that when moments later, Seth joined him in running to warn the Cullens, I wanted to cry at the breakthrough these idiot characters were having. Way to pull your head out, Jacob!
I have hope for the conclusion of this series. The pacing could be much better but Breaking Dawn is so much better (so far) than the previous books, that it’s like a breath of fresh air. Ok, like breathing smoggy air after living near a factory, but it’s an improvement.
Full disclosure, I am overly harsh on the books. But after being told that I just HAVE to read them, I’m still trying to figure out why.
On motivation for posting
I’ve noticed that I don’t write much except to complain. That can’t be fun reading for you, but I’m guessing that it’s sort of therapeutic for me. When things are going well, I want to be fully engaged in the good times. But when something annoys me, I want to vent about it. Having no actual people who care to hear me rant about stuff, I channel that into writing. Even if I had friends that were willing to listen to me, I am reluctant to subject them to my tirades. I wish I had better friends, the sort that MADE me understand that I could spout off about stuff.
I’m doing something wrong.
