I haven’t read Twilight. I know, I know, I’m behind in the culture. I should have something to praise or to snark. Or both. I read Harry Potter as the phenom developed—before the first movie, even. I plan to read Twilight. I do. Honest.
Okay, maybe I hoped the phenom would die down. Maybe I hoped everyone would forget it before I got to it. But it’s only revving up, and I know it. And I know I need to read it. And I know I’ll probably enjoy it.
Because, you see, I believe way down in my heart of hearts that bestsellers, beloved by millions, have something good in them. Something I will like muchly. So I know I’ll like Twilight. But I’m afraid to. I’m afraid I’ll get bitten—pun intended—by the Twilight phenom.
And articles like Monica Hesse’s in The Washington Post don’t help. How quickly can a sane adult fall from feminist literary critic to fangirl accessing her inner 17 year old? (Lemme tell you, as a die-hard romance reader, pretty damn quick.) But don’t take my word. Check this out because it could happen to the rest of us, those of us who haven’t opened Twilight yet. Yet, being the operative word.
Kristine Kathryn Rusch