Unrelated to this photo, I want to note that I finally gave in to my curiosity and got a copy of Twilight. How bad could it really be, I kept thinking, and why do so many otherwise smart people I know insist on reading it? I'm about 200 pages into it so far and now I know how bad it could be--it is laughably bad--but I still don't understand how it has become the phenomenon that it is.
Here are some samples from the text to illustrate how hilariously bad the writing can be. During one of Bella's adoring glances at Edward, she describes him by saying,
I noticed that he wore no jacket himself, just a light gray knit V-neck shirt with long sleeves. Again, the fabric clung to his perfectly muscled chest. It was a colossal tribute to his face that it kept my eyes away from his body.Later, when he touches her hair, she says, "My heart spluttered hyperactively." I laughed aloud at both of these.
It's not quite bad enough to stop reading, though, so I'll at least finish this first book. I kind of feel obligated to finish it, not just because I very rarely choose not to finish books and movies once I've started them but also because of the effort it took me to get my copy of it. I had to go to five separate stores before I could find a copy. It was like the universe was trying to prevent me from reading it.