Delighting in the Ridiculous

On the Subject of Mushrooms

2011-02-21T17:32:00.000-08:00

This post is an excerpt from my Real Life. Rumour is I have one!

Ah, the joys of the Internet.

Today I was blessed with an obscure email from an address I vaguely recognized but couldn't place on a particular face. It must have belonged to a fellow, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out which of my manly acquaintances would go by a moniker as limp as "ninety pound wuss". I had scratched and tapped my head a la Winnie-the-Pooh a full four times before I realized it was from my very first "sort-of-a-boyfriend-but-boys-have-cooties-so-we-mustn't-touch-yet-boyfriend-has-status-so-we'll-go-with-that"s. Unfortunately I am always slow to remember the identity of such creatures, so by the time I realize it I have usually read whatever greeting, insult, or creepy mouth-breatherish plea and am thoroughly tired of the contact, however brief.

This is wretched of me, I will happily admit, but I have no intention of being moved to more tender feelings than a maidenly shudder.

His message was far more creepy than expected, as the fellow in question tenderly recalled how close we were, (I only let him hold my hand once. He had sweaty palms.) how much I meant to him, (The only time I came to his house I sat in his sister's room the entire hour reading comic books.) that he had changed, (We had always referred to him by the Japanese word for mushroom in reference to his silence and dislike of any physical activity more demanding than hitting the Shift Key. By "change" I could only assume he had finally sent out spores.) and that my family and I were sure to be impressed by his new, shiny self. Oh, there was also a broken link to some sort of profile which I did not deign to investigate.

I'm wondering if he's recruiting for some kind of Pyramid Scheme or Cult, not that I care to find out. I look terrible in silly robes.

Your Bemused Correspondent,
Miss Impertinence

Tweet, Tweet, Time to Sleep

2011-02-13T20:08:00.000-08:00

If a single Doctor Who fan misses that reference, I hereby disown you.

Well, Readers, I made the mistake inbetween reading Eragon of trying to traverse the perilous wasteland known as "Twitter". This is confuses me nearly as much as Paolini's---hem---"poetry".

-Your Suffering Informant,
Miss Impertinence

Trekking Through Eragon

2011-02-12T10:19:00.001-08:00

Greetings, Patient Readers!

I am halfway through Eragon in between being a slacker and reading Foundling, Lamplighter, and Factotum by D.M. Cornish, which I highly recommend.

I am sorry to tell my readers that thus far Eragon is not winning me over, and that as things stand my next review will be as snarky as their predecessors. I am keeping an open mind, however, and if Paolini stops giving me obvious spoilers to a chapter's content in the title ("Doom of Innocence", "Dragon Tales", really?) I may forgive him. Until then, expect my poison'd pen to be up to its usual doings.

I remain,
Miss Impertinence

Future of Eragon Blogs

2011-01-21T19:30:00.001-08:00

'Ello, oh devoted Readers!
It has come to my attention that there is already a very good blog that reviews Eragon on a chapter-by-chapter basis.
This being the case, another chapter-by-chapter review would be unbearably redundant, so my Eragon blogs will be in my previous format. This means the gaps between the books will be a bit longer, since I'll be slogging through---::ahem::---reading through the series in order to give the most ::coughs:: unbiased review possible.

Until my next blog, I shall be reading more Eragon.

... Heaven help me.

Dog Debacles

2010-12-08T11:18:00.000-08:00

I’m still hiding from books I hate, so I thought that I’d stroll down Memory Lane and regale you with a tale from the annals of my youth. You know, back when I was young, carefree and ::coughs explosively:: innocent.

Dog Debacles (Or, “The Dog Channeled Linda Blair”)

First off, I should probably say that I love dogs. Adore them. As a matter of fact, I could live permanently single easier than I could live without a scruffy little misfit at my side.
I have a bit of a reputation among my friends as being rather vocal in my stance against animal cruelty, puppy mills, and carrying dogs around in handbags like accessories.

So why, God, why?!

For those of you who don't know, I grew up with three fuzzy dogs. At the time of this particular incident, Scooter (our female Golden Retriever) was 9, Belle and Angus (female and male Scotties) were 11 and 6, and I was somewhere between 10 and 200-years-old.
Belle had Cushing's Disease, which was treated with a medicine that suppressed the function of the adrenal gland to balance it out. The medicine was so powerful that if a healthy person touched it with bare skin it could damage their adrenal gland (keep this in mind when you read).

This particular morning my mum went to meet her best friend for coffee while I babysat the dogs. At the time, I was recovering from an illness that was the equivalent of having a stomach flu for several months. It was a big deal for her to go out, because for the last few weeks she had been home with me and the dogs in case I toppled over and cracked my pretty little skull. (This happened more often than you’d think.)
I insisted that I was quite well enough to be left alone and that there’d be no trouble at all. I promised I’d call her on her cell phone if anything happened that required assistance.

Mornings like this were fairly quiet, with the dogs snoozing in the sun while I worked on various easy chores or slept off the nausea from my meds. This time I thought I’d be all proactive and get a head-start on folding laundry. (This just smacks of impending doom, doesn’t it?)
In the middle of folding socks I heard a strange sound. At first I could have sworn it was a toilet plunger, but that made no sense. (My house was sadly lacking in brownies and house-elves.) I paused, cocked my head, and the sound continued.
I stuck my head out my bedroom door as Angus and Scooter came tearing down the hall as if they were being chased by a zombie trashcan. (Brave Readers, you probably see it coming, but at the time all I knew was that I only had 2 out of 3 dogs accounted for.)
Sensing disaster at hand I ran into the living room just in time to see Bell yakking up her breakfast.

Before I continue, where did she KEEP it all?! This dog barely ate anything; how is it that she had this endless supply of vomit? Great, this would be all kinds of fun. Nothing like cleaning up puke while recovering from stomach ailments. I had visions in my mind of losing my breakfast while cleaning up dog puke in a scene that would be too gruesome for tasteless comedy routines.

I ran all three of the dogs onto the back deck, with the intention of keeping them out of my hair while I cleaned up after Little Miss Upchuck. Good idea, right?

Operation 'This Will Not End Well' was a go.

While I was getting acquainted with my dog's stomach contents (Happy, happy, joy, joy!), I noticed little white pill fragments. Fantastic. The lysodren hadn‘t absorbed yet.
I thought it was a pain, but not the end of the world. At least it was nothing I'd have to interrupt my mum's morning for. (Poor noble me.)
Feeling extremely proud of my ability to suppress my gag reflex, I headed out on the deck and saw that not only did Belle barf again (::sobs::), but Angus had decided it was second breakfast and helped himself to it.

I repeat, the dog was gorging on lysodren-laced puke.

I blinked, mouth gaping. All that was left was a big damp spot and there was porky little Angus licking as fast as he could, knowing full well that all hell was about to break loose. Taking a deep breath, I called him in a happy, friendly voice.
Naturally, the little bugger ran for it.

Before you judge my actions, I must give you a disclaimer. I was all about calm assertive energy, and was an avid fan of the 'Dog Whisperer'. I had spent many months perfecting the Cesar Milan way, exuding strength, kindness, and balanced energy. Heck, I could even get a stranger's dog to behave better than their owners half the time.
Fat lot of a lot of good it did me in this instance.

"Dammit Angus! Get IN here!" (I think I had been watching McCoy in 'Star Trek' reruns too often. Stop judging, I‘m a blogger dammit, not a doctor!)

Of course it didn't work. Shouting at a dog never works. If I were Angus I would have run from me too. I probably looked quite deranged.

There was nothing for it, I’d have to call my mum for help. The last thing I wanted was for her to come home a scenario like this:

“Oh, hi Mum, welcome home! Slight issue, your dog is stone dead with his stubby legs in the air.”
...Yeah, that would go over brilliantly.

Thankfully she was leaving the café at the precise moment I called. When we got a hold of the vet he said we had to get Angus to vomit, and fast . (Happy day. Because obviously I hadn‘t enjoyed enough vomit-time that morning) She was still 20 minutes from home, so securing his survival was up to me. I was told to give the dog 1/4 cup hydrogen peroxide every 15 minutes until he threw up.
Goodie. I could hardly wait.

I wrangled the fuzzy little sinner and tried to pour it in his mouth, only getting maybe a swallow of the stuff in before his trap snapped shut. (Half of that bit went up the beggar's nose.) For those of you who don’t know, Scottish Terriers are small dogs with jaws that would better fit on a German Shepherd. They’re strong, and their teeth are HUGE. Many vets call them "land sharks".

So there I was, gentle Readers, sitting in a puddle of peroxide with a sulky dog, silently (and sometimes profanely) begging God to make him throw up fast even though I barely got anything in him.

I will be the first to say God answers prayer.

The next thing I knew, Angus was doing a bang-up job of reenacting 'The Exorcist', projectile vomiting across the kitchen while madly scuttling for the door.
Yelling, “thank yous”, and, "Good boy, Gus! Good Gusser!" I chased him across the kitchen and onto the back deck with paper towels and a bucket of water.
Poor Angus was entirely bewildered. There he was, enjoying a nice snack when his mum’s nut-job daughter decided to sit on him and semi-water board him with fizzy stuff. To make matters worse, the crazy broad was now chasing him with cleaning materials! He probably thought that I was a filthy hypocrite who wanted his puke for my own mid-morning treat.

In the end, the sticky, smelly mess was across the entire deck, on two rugs, the back door, the dog (more importantly, on ME), and even the trash can. A dozen buckets of water later (not to mention countless doggie wet-wipes) Angus was alive and snerfing around the floor in hopes of finding new and exciting treasures to inhale, and the kitchen and deck were spotlessly clean.

Needless to say he was intensely suspicious of anything I offered him as a consolation prize (Scotties are notorious among vets and owners for holding grudges) and was shooting me dirty looks from under his bushy little eyebrows.

What of the dog that started this whole mess? Belle seemed amused by the whole thing, to tell you the truth. Throughout the whole ordeal she was watching me slip, slide, and struggle with a distinctly smug look on her face.

Charming animals. Remind me again why I didn't get a goldfish?

Breaking Dawn Film Survival Guide

2010-11-18T09:59:00.000-08:00

As stories filter into the news about the filming of Breaking Dawn Part 1, I realized that this means there will already be fangirls scheming to coerce their friends, family, and significant others into seeing the dreaded film with them. I've never had the misfortune of seeing a Twilight film on the big screen, though I have watched the first two on tellie with Rifftrax in hope of surviving with my mind intact. (I'm not sure that it worked, I think I've developed a tic because of the experience.)
Since I'm a benevolent philanthropist of the Internet, (and Supreme Dictator of my very own couch) it occurred to me that I should do something to help my fellow Antis. Fear not, valued Readers, for I have the keys to making it through Breaking Dawn while protecting your not inconsiderable mental faculties!

Miss Impertinence's Breaking Dawn Survival Guide:

1. Tinfoil Hat

I cannot stress enough the importance of blocking the radiation emanating from prolonged Twiner exposure. Since lead vests are hard to come by, focus on protecting your minds from excessive sparkling.

2. Holy Water

I'm not even Catholic, but at this point we need all the help we can get. Thankfully, Lourdes seems to have it in the multi-gallon size. I recommend getting it into the theatre's sprinkler system and turning them on. Hopefully it will cleanse all of these poor fangirls... if not, at least you ruined their hairdos.

3. Air horn

I shouldn't even have to explain this. Just let 'er rip just as the long-awaited sex scene gets started. I would make sure I was in a theatre that I didn't want to return to, though.

One of the Antis I know suggested a kazoo if you're for subversive obnoxiousness. I must bow to her excessive brilliance.

4. Valium.

Of course, consult your doctor before taking anything. I'm pretty sure that once you tell them that you're being dragged to Breaking Dawn they'll give you the go-ahead. They might make you sign a disclaimer saying that they warned you of the health risks associated with seeing the films. Side effects may include nausea, vomiting, dizziness, paranoia, deafness, blindness, bowel disease, and sudden violent urges.

5. Ear Plugs

Usually fangirls scream on a pitch that only bats can hear, but occasionally you'll have the misfortune to be in a theatre with a fangirl who has already exhausted most of her voice screaming in several showings in the same day. In those cases you will be able to hear it, and you may be temporarily deafened. In those cases, a little preparation is key.

6. Angry Squirrel

You might wonder why I include irritable rodents on my list, but I assure you that my reasoning is sound. Not everyone can make it through one of these films, and in the case that you get the overwhelming urge to escape, you need a proper distraction. You cannot count on your fellow movie-goer being sympathetic to your needs, and so you must take drastic measures. Releasing an angry rodent into a theatre is your only hope.

a) Quietly release rodent from purse or jacket. Choose a moment that will have the audience's full attention, such as one of the men being shirtless.

b) Kick the squirrel. I repeat, kick the squirrel, unless it is full of rodent rage to begin with. Punting small furry animals seems extreme, I'll admit, but aim it at someone who is drooling excessively and enjoy the results.

c) Scream like a banshee. I don't care what your gender or persuasion is, SCREAM. It's your only hope---if your Twiner friend sees you laughing the whole charade is over, and no doubt you'll be dragged to another screening asap.

If you follow my instructions, the theatre will be evacuated, and you will be free of this silver-screen drivel! Believe me, fearless Readers, you will thank me later.

I remain,

Miss Impertinence

Eragon Chapter 1 (In Which I Am Bashed Over the Head by Foreshadowing)

2010-11-04T07:43:00.000-07:00

Noble Readers, I promise that I am giving Eragon a chance. I know that many of my Readers are fans of the books, and are reading this because they are rather fond of my cheerful snarking. (You saintly creatures!) If the book turns out to be original, exciting, and clever, I will happily bow down and eat my hat, so to speak.

Yeesh, maturity is more painful than I thought it was! See if I ever try that again!

On one thing I must be clear: I'm never going to say that plagiarism is justified, or acceptable. I happen to like Rowling's books (and have yet poked fun at them too, so she doesn't get off easier than any other author), but if she is found in court to have plagiarized another author's work I will turn my back on the franchise. Why? Because my enjoyment of the result of plagiarism doesn't make it okay. Theft is theft, even ideas can be stolen (Hence there being the term plagiarism and copyright laws to begin with.) and there's nothing "flattering" about it.

Now that I've explained myself, it's time to read some Eragon!

Eragon Chapter 1
Discovery

We first meet Aragorn--oops, sorry--Eragon (Paolini was ever-so-sneaky to change two letters in the name!) as he hunts a deer in the mountains. I don't get very far down the first page before I notice a wee contradiction. Let's see if you spot it too:

"The sky was clear and dark, and a slight breeze stirred the air. A silvery cloud drifted over the mountains that surrounded him, its edges glowing with the ruddy light cast from the harvest moon cradled between two peaks."

I'm going to give you another chance, take one more look above. I'm sure you see it too, but I'm going to point it out anyway. He just said that the sky was clear and dark, but in the next sentence he mentioned a cloud passing overhead. This might be nit-picking, but in my experience it seldom bodes well when an author can't keep track of the weather in his own story. Back to the book!
We learn that Eragon is fifteen, and that soon he'll be an adult in his culture. (I always find this idea frightening in fantasy stories. Teenagers with sharp, pointy objects...) He lives in Carvahall, near the Spine Mountains, which are major bad juju according to even the most experienced woodsmen. It will then come as no surprise that Eragon is in no way afraid of the mountains, and goes traipsing through them on a regular basis. (::coughs::GARY STU ALERT::coughs harder::) I guess he's just that manly, guys.
Eragon's hunting for some meat because Winter is on its way, and his family can't afford to buy meat in Carvahall.
I'll give Paolini some points for knowing that the poor in the medieval world couldn't afford meat, so this gives the story a little credibility. Let's see if he can keep it up.

"At the glen, he strung his bow with a sure touch, then drew three arrows and nocked one, holding the other two in his left hand."

Well, so much for credibility. Now we're expected to believe that this kid is Legolas. His ambush on the sleeping deer is ruined when a Big Mysterious Meteor comes down precisely where the deer were sleeping. Not that this BMM has anything to do with the Big Blue Stone that Isn't a Stone, of course. Sneaky-sneaky, Paolini!
Eragon then does what I would in that situation, which is poke it with a stick! Well, he pokes it with an arrow, and lookee here! Much to our amazement it's the BMM, and it is indeed the BBS.

"Nature had never polished a stone as smooth as this one. Its flawless surface was dark blue, except for thin veins of white that spider webbed across it. The stone was cool and frictionless under his fingers, like hardened silk. Oval and about a foot long, it weighed several pounds, though it felt lighter than it should have."

I might have a concussion from the heavy foreshadowing bashing me in the head. Could it be, I dunno, a DRAGON EGG? Noooo, too obvious, surely not.
Eragon then spends some time agonizing over whether or not the stone was meant to be there, was it formed by magic, and if it was meant for him. (Imma gonna guess that's a "yes", Eragon ol' pal.) He then decides to take it back to sell for some meat, (Big planner, this one.) and we end with our hero falling asleep.

Predictions:
1) We're going to be hearing an awful lot about Eragon's manly prowess in killing things. (Sort of like how Bella always moaned about being plain, and Edward called her preciousssss.)
2) I don't think that the foreshadowing will be very subtle in this book. It might be the lump on my head from the book hitting me, I dunno.
3) His descriptions will continue to be pretty, but will take up lots of unnecessary space.
4) I will go through my migraine medicine much faster than usual this month.

Eragon Prologue: Shade of Fear

2010-11-02T09:28:00.000-07:00

Before we begin, I should probably admit that I'm predisposed to like fantasy books. This means I'm starting from a strong bias, because I'm normally a sucker for quests, dragons, magic and whatnot. In fact, I'm kind of hoping that Eragon will prove me wrong and turn out to be an epic book series. (This is for entirely selfish reasons. I've only recently recovered from blogging Twilight, and am not sure how much more abuse my remaining braincells can take.)
Get it? I'm not evil incarnate, I'm just dastardly.

Now that I've given you enough foreshadowing that my hopes will be crushed into oblivion, let's start Eragon!

Eragon by Christopher Paolini
Prologue: Shade of Fear

"Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world. A tall Shade lifted his head and sniffed the air. He looked human except for his crimson hair and maroon eyes."

This is probably highly unfair of me, but this scent talk already reminds me uncomfortably of Shmeyer. That woman was obsessed with how people smell. (Please don't let this be a bad omen.)
The Shade thingie seems to be waiting in ambush for whatever smelly being is coming his way. His minions are called Urgals, and from the description they vaguely remind me of minotaurs:

"They resembled men with bowed legs and thick, brutish arms made for crushing. A pair of twisted horns grew above their small ears. The monsters hurried into the brush, grunting as they hid."

The Urgals snap a twig, and the Shade gets a little snippy with his minions. Personally, I would look for some sneaky, quiet minions. Already they're falling into the classic minion trap---strong, but dumb. This is just to let you know that our hero can out-smart 'em.

"The Shade hissed in anger, and the Urgals shrank back, motionless."

You can't shrink back while being motionless. Just saying.
The book then mentions them smelling like fetid meat, which leads me to ask again why he hired these goons. They're smelly, loud, clumsy, and none too bright. If you're going to start a book with some suspense, make the minions a little menacing, instead of vaguely sad. (SPEW for Urgals, anyone?)
Sorry, back to the narrative: They wait for a few more hours, then the scent makes it clear that whoever they're waiting for is close.

"Excited, he lifted his thin lip in a snarl."

Wait, he just demanded their silence a few hours ago, and now he allows a snarl? It never says that it's a silent snarl, which leaves the Reader to only assume that he made a noise. Fire this bloke too!
Finally, we see their quarry, which are three elves. Two are apparently identical males, and a female who seems like the usual Luthien ripoff. We hear quite a bit about her beauty, which gives my evil, suspicious mind reason to think that she's going to be in the book an awful lot. The men are just too generically nice-looking, which kind of screams "Red Shirt".
The elves aren't too bright since they can't smell the "fetid meat" the Urgals remind the Shade of. Maybe they all have head colds so their noses don't work?
The wind then changes, and the two male elves turn tail and run for it, while the lady elf's horse bolts forward, seperating them. Those bodyguards are a bit useless, I guess even the Good Guys can't find decent help these days.
The Red Shirts--::cough::--guards get felled with arrows and the lady elf runs for it. There's not much tension, since all we know is that she's pretty, and in books like this we know that because she's so pretty she won't die. There's some magic from the Shade who surrounds her with a ring of fire (Heheh, Johnny Cash moment...), but not before she magically sends a blue stone into lower orbit. The stone is what the Shade was after in the first place, so he throws a tantrum, knocks her unconscious, and kills all of the Urgals. So much for two week's notice.
The Shade then throws the elf lady across his saddle and rides away, asserting his Bad Guy status by letting some trees burn. Ooooh, what a baddie!

Predictions:
*Elf Lady will be Eragon's snuggle-buddy. (She's described as being way too perfect and hot to not be the hero's snogwaffle.)
*The stone will end up in his clutches.
*The stone isn't a stone, but since it's blue it probably has a dragon in it. Why? BECAUSE THERE'S A BLUE DRAGON ON THE FLIPPIN' BOOK COVER!
*I will be treated to hearing about how this elf lady smells several more times.

The Next Bad Book Blogs!

2010-11-01T15:22:00.001-07:00

Yes, I have found another target for my literary wrath, oh patient Readers. I will still be writing on Twilight from time to time, but if I don't have another series to vent on I might have to gouge my pretty green eyes out.

I didn't think it was possible, but I've found a book that seems to be as bad as Twilight, just aimed at boys. Didn't think it could happen? That's what I thought, until I found a book with all of the makings of another Twilight:

1) A Gary Stu, with a Mary Sue love interest

2) Pretentious purple prose (Say that five times fast, it sounds funny!)

3) Telling without showing

4) Horribly forced dialogue

5) Main Character who acts like a sociopath, not a hero

6) Plagiarism of better authors (This book rips off more fantasy authors than you can shake a stick at)

7) Characters who are supposed to be likable, but aren't, and villains who are supposed to be Evil, but don't act like it.

By now you must be tired of my teasing, so I'll tell you the series:

Eragon, by Christopher Paolini

Don't be fooled by book jackets boasting of quests, sweeping fantasy, and epic battles, this is a pretentious mess of a series written by a guy who is almost as arrogant as Shmeyer herself.
In fact, there's so much to hate in this book that I'm going to go chapter by chapter on it.
Well, every three or four chapters, for the sake of my sanity.

Wilt thou join me? Let's read some bad books!

Your Daring Informant,
Miss Impertinence

A Few of My Favourite Things:

2010-10-24T11:16:00.000-07:00

Today we take a break from our 'usual programming' to share something positive and uplifting! (Don't get used to it, my snark will be back on soon enough.)
A few of my readers have asked that I share some of my favourite fantasy novels with them, and since I adore any excuse to talk about books, I shall cheerfully indulge that whim. (See how loved you are? I'm using my bandaged arm to write for you! This is solid proof of what your mother told you for years---no, not that you're a naughty child for biting your brother and wait 'til your father comes home---I meant that you are a very valuable soul and worth writing for.)

Some of these books are childhood favourites, and others are new friends that I plan on keeping around for many, many years. I shall give small descriptions of why I liked the books without divulging spoilers so you may decide which, if any, you would like to read.

* The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander (and the rest of the Prydain Chronicles, for that matter!) - This series is one I've loved since I was a child, and is one that I rank up with Tolkien, Lewis, and Rowling for books every child should grow up with. It's all based on Welsh mythology, and if you read the books you will see where Rowling got some of her inspiration. (Such as with horcruxes) It will appeal equally to boys and girls, as Mr Alexander writes very admirable characters for both sexes.
The books follow a boy named Taran in the land of Prydain. He is an orphan taken in by the wizard Dallben, and is the "Assistant Pig-Keeper" to the oracular pig Hen Wen. Taran wishes for danger and excitement, and unfortunately gets his wish when Hen Wen escapes her pen in a panic and vanishes into the forest. Taran chases after her, and along the way finds that the dreaded Horned King is hunting her, which means only one thing... the Dark Lord Arawn of Annuvin is once again rising (this is a very, very bad and scary thing, in case you were wondering). Taran encounters heroes, witches, encounters the undead Cauldron-Born, meets a young enchantress, a comical bard, beastly little monsters, fairy folk, and in the end confronts his own fate.
The series is five books long, and has a little companion book that has other myths of Prydain that explain some of the backstories to characters you never knew were so heroic. This is one of the best book series you can ever hope to find, and if you don't read them, I pity you with all my heart!
Age Groups: From 2 to 2000. Yes, they are indeed that magical.

* Wildwood Dancing by Juliet Marillier - I discovered this book around four or five years ago, when I purchased some books to amuse me during my recovery from getting my wisdom teeth yanked. It was meant to last me several days, but instead I stayed up until 3am devouring it like a toddler with her brother's Halloween candy (By the way, sorry about that, Brother Mine!).
It follows five sisters in 15th Century Transylvania and their dealings with the Otherworld. In it you have a dark forest, an enchanted lake, faeries, dwarves, Witches, and vampires as the Transylvanians saw them. It has mystery, magic, and danger----and a genuinely romantic sub-story, though it's hardly the main point of the book. It's loosely based off "The 12 Dancing Princesses", and combines with a few other old fairy tales that you'll recognize by the end of the book. ::winks::
Age Group: Young Adult and up, though it's perfectly safe for a younger reader as well.

* Troll Fell by Katherine Langrish - This is another favourite of mine, and is equally engaging for both sexes. The main characters are sympathetic without being boring, and the trolls are simultaneously hilarious and dangerous!
The first in the series, Troll Fell takes place in Norway/Sweden in the days of Vikings, trolls, and magical realms. We follow young orphan Peer Ulfsson as he is taken to live with his abusive uncles shortly after the passing of his father. As the story progresses he learns that there is danger all around him, from Granny Greenteeth (who is truly menacing!) to the trolls that inhabit the hills surrounding Troll Fell. He and his new friend Hilde have to outwit both his uncles and the Troll King if they are to ever see the light of day again.
Age Group: All ages, this is one 'children's book' that like Harry Potter, is engaging for anyone who loves fantasy.

* The Faery Reel, Tales from the Twilight Realm edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, Illustrated by Charles Vess - This anthology has a fantastic cast of authors from around the world, and is illustrated by Charles Vess, who is one of my personal heroes. (He illustrated 'Stardust' for Neil Gaiman)
The Authors are: Steve Berman, Holly Black, Bill Congreve, Charles de Lint, A. M. Dellamonica, Jeffrey Ford, Gregory Frost, Nan Fry, Neil Gaiman, Bruce Glassco, Hiromi Goto, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Tanith Lee, Kelly Link, Gregory Maguire, Patricia A. McKillip, Delia Sherman, Ellen Steiber, and Katherine Vaz.
My absolute favourite is one that takes place in Japan and deals with Tengu. Another great one follows a boy who is trying to save his sister from being kidnapped by faeries.
Age Group: Young Adult

* The Green Man, Tales from the Mythic Forest edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, Illustrated by Charles Vess - Another fantastic anthology, though this one deals with variations of the Green Man legend. We still have a great international cast of authors, and their stories range from comedic to genuinely scary.
The Authors are: M. Shayne Bell, Emma Bull, Michael Cadnum, Charles de Lint, Carolyn Dunn, Carol Emshwiller, Jeffrey Ford, Neil Gaiman, Nina Kiriki, Hoffman, Kathe Koja, Tanith Lee, Bill Lewis, Gregory Maguire, Patricia A. McKillip, Delia Sherman, Midori Snyder, Katherine Vaz, and Jane Yolen.
My personal favourite was "Somewhere In My Mind, There Is a Painting Box" by Charles de Lint. I don't want to spoil it, but it has lovely prose, and is enough to make all of us go snooping in the woods.
Age Group: Young Adult and up

* Changeling by Delia Sherman - If you read this, you will immediately go out and buy the two anthologies I just listed, because her short stories in them relate to this book.
If you ever suspected that the cities are full of fey folk (as I have) then this book will be a delight. It follows a young changeling girl who lives with faeries in Central Park. When her curious nature gets the best of her, she becomes the prey of The Wild Hunt, and must outwit the UnSeelie court in order to survive. The book is equally scary, fun, and hilarious. The characters are funny and endearing, and the book brings New York to life in a way that is only possible with magic. (In it New York has faeries from all around the world, because it's such a melting pot. Think of it: humans from around the world came to America through Ellis Island and brought their faeries with them, making New York one of the most enchanting (and hazardous) places on earth.)
Age Group: It's in the Young Adult section, but I think kids would enjoy it too, so long as they're not timid souls. Adults who love myth will enjoy it too.

* East by Edith Pattou - (It's based on the Nordic tale East of the Sun, West of the Moon) This is a book that lies near and dear to my heart. The style is very poetic, and it is written from several different perspectives. This is hard to achieve, and most authors fail miserably at it. (I'm looking at you, Shmeyer!)
This story follows Rose, the daughter of a farmer turned mapmaker. When her family is struck by misfortune and the life of her sister is in the balance, a polar bear comes to her home and asks for her to go away with him in exchange for her sister's survival and a life of ease for her family. Despite her family's refusal, Rose accepts and goes away to live in a strange castle where everything is under an oath of silence, and every night a mysterious presence occupies the other half of her bed.
I don't dare tell you too much more, but this story has lots of references to Norse mythology, trolls (huldres, specifically), epic travels to a world of ice, and a girl who braves all to save someone she feels honour-bound to help. The protagonist is likable, honourable, and courageous---everything Bella Swan is not.
Age Group: It's aimed at Young Adults, but is great for adults who love fantasy. There's nothing in there that is unsafe for younger readers either.

* Fablehaven by Brandon Mull - I stumbled upon this series a couple of years ago when I was at a point where I desperately needed some fun in life. Needless to say, this series fulfilled that need. Imagine Jurassic Park... for magical creatures!
This series follows two kids named Kendra and Seth as they are dropped off to spend the summer with their 'stodgy' old grandpa while their parents go on a cruise. The rules are simple: Don't go into the woods!
....
Yeah right, would we have a story if they didn't? They discover that they're surrounded by fairies, satyrs, witches, centaurs, trolls, imps, and it looks like they'll have a blast---until Seth gets a little too curious, and all hell breaks loose.
This is only the first book in the series, but it's one of the best.
Age Group: Little kids might find it a bit scary, but 8 and up will love diving into this world.

* Howl's Moving Castle and the Chronicles of Chrestomanci by Diana Wynne Jones - I'm being lazy and lumping lots of books into one review, because just about anything this lady writes is gold. The stories are deceptively simple, but she manages to tie several different universes together in a way that you'd never suspect. There are wizards galore, witches, magic, science, and all kinds of fun quests that keep you laughing yet hooked for days. Diana Wynne Jones is also J. K. Rowling's favourite author, which ought to tell you something. (In fact, a lot of the ideas in Rowling's books are heavily influenced by Jones' writing. For instance, making a place unplottable? Yeah, Jones did it first.) This is the one case when I'll just skip the review, and tell you to get your bum to the library and read them!
Age Group: All ages, these are classics.

* Jane Slayre by Charlotte Bronte and Sherri Browning Erwin - If you ever read Jane Eyre and thought, "Alright, but I'd like it better if Jane had some spirit. What gives with her forgiving that freak Rochester?!" then you will adore this book.
The book stays in Bronte's style so seamlessly you hardly notice when she transitions to the new material.... well, except for the staking, beheading, and zombie-bashing. Yes, Jane is the descendant of vampire slayers, and between growing up with vampires, being mobbed by zombies (I shan't tell you where, the surprise is such fun!), and running into werewolves, you can't help but have a fantastic time reading the books. Jane's character is improved immensely, while still maintaining her dignity and sense. This book is simply hilarious, and mad fun!
Age Group: It wasn't in the Young Adult section, but a young adult with a love of parody and horror will get a kick out of this book.

I'm sure you already know that I love Tolkien and Rowling very much, fair Readers, but I thought I'd bring up the books that are lesser-known among the shelves. These books won't be favourites for everyone, but they're worth the read, and I believe that the majority of them will bring you a lot of reading pleasure. I hope you love them as I do!

Your Fond Correspondent,
Miss Impertinence

Shmeyer and I

2010-10-18T19:34:00.000-07:00

Hello, faithful Readers, on my facebook page I had someone suggest that I should have a show on tellie. This well-meaning individual probably didn't consider that no network in its right mind would hire me, but it did raise an interesting thought... If I had the chance to interview Shmeyer, what would it be like? Read on and find out!

We're airing LIVE on 'SmackTalk', with your host, Miss Impertinence! Today we're interviewing acclaimed author of the Twilight... 'thingie', Stephenie Meyer.

Miss Impertinence: So, Shmeyer ol' buddy ol' pal, after reading Twilight I feel like I've met you already.

Shmeyer: Gosh, I'm so glad to be here, it's such a magnanimous gesture of gracious----

MI: Spare me the adjectives, Lady, let's just cut to the chase. Tell me a little bit about your, ::coughs:: books.

Shmeyer: Well, I'm sure you've read them--

MI: ::looks pained at the memory::

Shmeyer: --so you understand that it's an epic saga of Bella and Edward and the bonds that---are, are you snoring?

MI: Naw, not me, no, I was just clearing my nasal passages.

Shmeyer: Right. Like I said, an eternally beautiful godlike vampire who falls in love with a mortal girl. It chronicles---Okay, I'm positive that was a snore.

MI: Actually I was failing to suppress my retching, but I can see how you'd confuse the two. Let's move along, shall we? How do you respond to the idea that Dead Eddie is a dirty old man?

Shmeyer: ::blinks rapidly::

MI: That was my reaction too, only with more violent twitching.

Shmeyer: Well, he's eternally youthful, so that's not really accurate..

MI: Ah, so he's an old dude in his third childhood. Gotcha. How does it feel to be the most undeserved success in Literary History? Oh egads, stop snivelling, Woman and ANSWER MY QUESTION!

Shmeyer: I, well, that's not exactly----

(A commotion off-set distracts Shmeyer and Miss Impertinence, as an enraged voice is heard shouting obscenities between zaps.)

Shmeyer: Who?

MI: I think it's your brother, Seth. He shouldn't have attacked Security, they all recharged their tasers this morning.

Shmeyer: Are they hurting him?

(Fighting gets louder)

MI: Meh, only when he moves. Anyhoo, I hear you pride yourself on your lack of research?

Shmeyer: ::looks smug:: I'm too creative to rely on that. My vampires are nothing like anything done before, and I don't want the influence of better--I mean--mediocre writers. Um, should you be turning that colour?

MI: No, no, I always look like this when I choke on an over-inflated ego. Would that also extend to your use of Quilleute legend?

Shmeyer: Well, all Indian legends are pretty much the same, so I just looked at the legends from those tribes Arizona and used those instead. I mean, I'm sure every part of the US has Skinwalkers, whatever they are.

MI: fglmbfmgpr;sngrinvdklnrlskn I mean, sure, righto. I'll see if I can set you up to meet a nice Navajo Skinwalker to discuss that with.

Shmeyer: Cool, I'll put together some pamphlets to share with him!

MI: I'm sure they'd just love that. ::swigs from hip flask:: ::coughs again:: Lovely, lovely pamphlets... Along a similar line, I've noticed something about your characters... it looks like when you become a vampire, you also become White.

Shmeyer: Well, yeah.

MI: But, they become White.

Shmeyer: That's because vampires are so much better than humans, Miss Impertinence. I'm not racist, I just think everyone needs to be White to be perfect.

MI: ::crunches script in hand:: Say that again?

Shmeyer: My vampires all have white skin. I mean, some are a little olive-toned, but they can't really help that, being what they were.

MI: ::mouth gapes::

Shmeyer: It's like in Eclipse, when Jasper discusses how he became a vampire. Maria had clearly Hispanic features, but her skin was a perfect porcelain white.*

MI: ::picks up a copy of Breaking Dawn:: Shmeyer, ol' pal. I suggest you run.

Shmeyer: What? I don't understand?

MI: This involves heavy things connecting with your skull unless you outrun me.

Shmeyer: You can't threaten me you----OW!

MI: ::looks for more heavy objects:: Can't I? I'm not real, I'm just a literary Voice for a cranky satirist, while YOU are like a literary voodoo doll of the real Shmeyer. I shall now unleash a horde of angry sock puppets possessed with the spirits of dead authors you ripped off unless you get your crazy, bigoted face out of my brain!

(Shmeyer squeals like a stuck pig and runs out of the studio as a mob of googly-eyed sock puppets chase her, mauling her ankles)

MI: ::turns to the screen and smiles brightly:: And that's all for today, folks! Join us next time for another enlightening episode of "SmackTalk"! I'm your host, signing off!

*A note on the racism card: Sadly, in Shmeyer's books, all vampires seem to get Caucasian skin after being turned. No explanation is given, and we are expected to just not notice this. This does bear striking similarity to the idea in Mormonism that those who are minorities will become "white and delightsome" once they go to Mormon heaven. Let it be said that MOST modern Mormons don't hold with that idea, but it bears close enough similarity to how Shmeyer's vampires are described that I can't help but call her out on it.
Shmeyer, if you can ever face criticism, your books are undermining to minorities and I am NOT okay with that. I'm so telling Joseph Smith on you.

Ahem, it should be very obvious that I have never spoken to Shmeyer, never will, and certainly wouldn't engage in walloping her with her own book. I'd like to picture it, from time to time, but I have a bum arm and would be incapable of inflicting any real damage.

This is my last blog before my surgery tomorrow, so I might not be online until my arm is well and truly healed. I hope my noble readers will get a few giggles out of the blog while I get naughty nerve bundles moved to a better location.

Until then, Dear Readers, I remain,
Miss Impertinence

Topics and Other Rubbish

2010-10-14T08:46:00.000-07:00

Hello, my Valiant Readers!

If any of you have wondered why my blogs have slowed down of late (I know that you probably haven't, but do flatter my ego and pretend you were waiting with bated breath!), I shall give an update:
Due to my remarkable villainy, my right ulnar nerve has been rather strained, so I shall soon be having a surgery to fix'er up so I can write more rude blogs. (This is all for the best; forced good behavior never lasts long with me.)

Since I'll be back to work in a few weeks, I should probably put up possible future topics. Forward, ho!

1) Sexism and Twilight (Covering everything from the gender roles in the books to the fandom and media.)

2) Random silly excerpts from my harrowing youth. (Think "The Exorcist" meets "It's a Dog's Life".)

3) Classism and Money in Twilight (Including Shmeyer's disdain of the Average Joe)

4) Vampires, and how ancient legends differ from the Post-Victorian Dandies we see in books and film nowadays.

5) A "Scientific" look at Twilight fans. (Obviously, it won't be remotely scientific, but it sure will be fun!)

6) My own parody of Twilight! (It will be an epic saga, no doubt.)

7) There is no seven yet, I just like the number.

Is there anything you'd like to see me snark at? If so, feel free to post your suggestions!

Your Intrepid Informant,
Miss Impertinence

Alien 5 (More Commonly Known As Breaking Dawn)

2010-09-09T16:45:00.000-07:00

I’m not disingenuous enough to claim that Breaking Dawn is the first book I’ve ever hated, but it’s certainly one of the only books I’ve hated this much.
Sure, I have enough neuroses to be a character on week night television, but hiding from a book and/or cowering whenever it comes into view hasn’t traditionally been among them. When I was dumb enough to take the challenge of reading the Twilight series and blogging my thoughts on them it didn’t occur to me that they could be so bad that I’d seriously regret my decision. (Dearest Readers, if you laugh any harder at my folly you might choke, and all my suffering would be in vain.)
Enough whinging about my fate. Let us go into the breach, Dear Friends!

Breaking Dawn begins much like any other Shmeyer text, with Bella contemplating death in halting phrases. It’s a day or so before her wedding to Ed (I assume this is why she was talking about dying. Lord knows I might be jumping off a cliff if I’d been silly enough to marry this twat.) and our blushing heroine is fussing ad nauseam about people looking at her, the price tag of her big fancy car, and the other horrors of marrying into the undead elite. She goes on about this for some time, then mentions to us that Jacob, upon hearing about the engagement, decided to go pansy off into the great blue yonder. Shmeyer--that, is---Bella then treats us to some heartfelt reminisces of “her” Jacob before returning to more pressing matters, like the sexiness of her frigid Romeo.

We go straight from discussing the guest list to a contrived conversation with Carlisle in which he mentions a vampire law against turning rug rats into Immortal Children. Since this is the Shmeyerverse, we shall pretend to be lobotomy patients and wonder why this is important at all. (Because surely Bella and Deadward aren’t going to be Sues and have a super-rare Demon Spawn. That would be far too clichéd and obvious for someone as deep and creative as Shmeyer!)
Apparently pretty babies make the most savage vampires ever (I could have told them that.) and are impossible to reason with (How is that different from human brats?) so the only thing to do is burn the ruffians and the idiot grownups who made them. (Many of us have had similar impulses in grocery stores on the weekend, so I can’t really fault the Volturi.)
Remember, this IS the Shmeyerverse, so let’s be good lambs and pretend that we can’t see where this is leading.

When we get to the wedding, it’s about as predictable as the other books have been, with lots of fussing and preening over Shmeyer--I mean--Bella while she treats us to the occasional “ugh” and “ew, don’t look at me!” to prove how grounded she is. Of course this is all described with as much gushing as a marathon of Platinum Weddings while Bella acts like she’s having a root canal, except for when she’s treating us to nauseating descriptions of her moldering Mister. We have the required mushy dance scene where they pause before a conveniently placed mirror so that Bella can see that she is indeed the belle of the ball (Barf bags not included!) before someone poked Shmeyer with a stick and told her to spice things up.
After looking up the word “conflict” in her handy-dandy thesaurus Shmeyer makes Jake show up at the wedding so he can dance with Bella. Bella’s thrilled, since she wanted him to be her Mutt of Honor, but somehow the waltz makes them feel the need to discuss if Ed plans on making sexy times with Bella while she’s still human. (I guess in the 21st Century nice Mormon girls discuss sex with the guys who lost out on getting in their knickers. Go figure.) In typical Shmeyer style, Jake comes unhinged and starts shaking Bella like a rattle in the middle of her own wedding reception, all as a convenient ploy for Eddie-boy to swoop down like a bat and be all menacing and protective. The other werewolves attending pop up and drag Jake out of the reception before he turns into an angry Yorkshire terrier, mysteriously managing to avoid attracting the notice of the hundreds of human guests attending the festivities. (I’m wondering if Shmeyer was chewing locoweed when she wrote this book.)

Next we get treated to Bella and Eddie skipping away to Isle Esme for some marital PDA. (Don’t worry, everything fades to black before we might have to hear about Ed’s sparkling moonlit cheeks.) When Mister and Mrs. McSparklepants wake to a dazzling morning we are treated to some unconvincing angst as Ed discovers his multi-bruised beloved. (Personally, I think he was just horrified to realize he was stuck with the broad for the rest of eternity.) For some deranged reason Shmeyer informs us that during their friendly-marital-frolicking (Remember Kids, we can’t say “sex”, because sex is dirty.) Deadward snarffled some pillows. Apparently fangirls adored that bit, but all I can think is that I need to inform PETA (Pillows Eaten in Twilight Attacks) of this savage cruelty.

Pages and pages are dedicated to obnoxious dialogue (“Ah lurves yoo!” “Ah lurve yoo more!” “Nay, mah fragrant skunk cabbage of bliss, for who could lurve yoo more than a guy who thparkles?” “Kiss me yoo fool!”) until we come to the part that we totally-could-not-have-foreseen-because-Shmeyer-is-a-creative-genius and learn that in the space of about three days Shmeyer--ahem--Bella is pregnant with Eddie’s lil’ nudger. (That’s not sarcasm, she describes the baby as a NUDGER.)
Obviously Shmeyer failed biology miserably, since a) vampires can’t reproduce (Technically they wouldn’t be able to make sexy times since they don’t have blood flow.), b) No sperm could survive 90 years inside of Eddie, c) Sperm can’t survive extreme temperatures, and a freezing dad would not be conducive to reproduction… get the idea? I could go on forever, but since nice girls are completely ignorant of biology and reproduction, I must feign ignorance and let that slide.
So, does Eddie break out the Cuban cigars and do happy-dances at the joy of fatherhood? Hell to the no! (Since when has Ed respected Bella’s choices?) Our pouting Hero calls Carlisle and they start planning an abortion without consulting Bella. Much to my surprise, Bella uses her brain for once. She goes around them and contacts the only strong female character, Rosalie (That would be the only Cullen family member who dislikes Bella. Smart woman.) to help her protect the spawn--ahem--bundle of joy.
(For those of you who care: Rosalie always resented being turned into a vampire, and tried to talk Bella into reconsidering becoming one of the undead. The background is tedious, but apparently Rosalie always wanted to be a mum, and thus her love for children overcame her dislike for Bella.)

Poor Readers, I’d take something for that migraine about now, if I were you.
The book only gets worse.
Shmeyer then switches gears and begins writing from Jacob’s perspective as he lurks around parks trying to imprint on some unsuspecting teenager.
Shoot, now I need to explain Imprinting.. (Saints and Ministers of Grace, what did I do to deserve this?) Imprinting is a creepy term for “Lurve at first sight”, when a werewolf sees his mate and becomes hopelessly devoted to her from that moment on. No, it’s not ‘cute’. The first time we see this concept is when one of the werewolves in Eclipse imprints on a TODDLER. We’re told that it’s all good because he’ll be like a caregiver, then a brother, then a best friend, then lover depending on what she needs. This bears disturbing similarity to the tactics Child Molesters use to gain the trust of their victims, and there is no way I can even pretend to find this remotely okay, or even funny. The child/woman has no choice in the matter, as Jacob says that the bloke is so perfect for her it’s not like she’d consider choosing someone else. (Probably because she’s raised being molded to the man’s expectations, he’s certainly not adapting to her needs.)
Now that you’ve heard me go off on Shmeyer’s deranged ideas of love, back to Jerry Springer Goes Supernatural!
Jacob spends more time whining about his inability to fall in love with a random passerby, and goes back to Forks.
When Jake returns to Bella-ville, he hears from the were-lapdogs that Bella is preggers, and that they’re going to kill the Cullens in a weak attempt to insert some conflict in the story. Much to our ‘chagrin’, instead of joining the pack in a perfectly reasonable venture Jacob buggers off and goes to warn the Shmeyerpires about the pending attack. When he arrives, we are treated to long, drippy dialogues between Bella, Eddie, and Jake, which I shall skip over for the sake of sanity.

In an ill-defined unit of time Bella is ready to pop like a tick. Can you handle the suspense?

This is where I must take a pause and ask my beloved Readers to get up, and go grab a barf bag or bucket, depending on how weak your stomach is.

Do you have your supplies at hand? Good. Here is where Shmeyer goes from being a prissy Victorian marm to Quentin Tarantino:

You might expect that Bella simply can’t go into labor like any other mammal (If she IS even a mammal… she still reminds me of animated asparagus for some reason.), for that would be too dull for the Shmeyerverse. Our wilting heroine bends to catch a glass she dropped, and tears her placenta loose.
(Fetch the smelling salts and get up off the floor, I’m not making this up!)
There’s an almighty hullabaloo around her as her sweet lil’ Alien breaks her pelvis, ribs, and spine, before starting to gnaw its way out of her. Since this is a family film, we shall spare you some of the details, but it must be known that the wee piranha gets stuck, and so it’s up to good ol’ Dads (Ed) to give his wifey a cesarean via vampire fang.

Such wholesome fun.

Blood and gore everywhere, Jake and Ed are near swooning, and Bella’s dying horribly, could it get any better?! Alas, fair Reader, I must remind you who wrote this novel.
Just when we have our hopes up good and proper, Eddie injects his blood-spewing sweetheart with Shmeyerpire juice to save her life thereby rendering her undead… yes, those were contradictory terms.
In the meantime, Jake has a romantic urge to slaughter Rosemary’s Baby for having killed Bella, but just as he lays eyes on the sweet lil’ chupacabra the whole book goes from just bizarre to downright offensive:
You guessed it, Jake McDateRape imprints on the Alien, now named Renesmee.

Before we continue, let’s discuss why Shmeyer took the book in this direction to begin with. My guess is that Shmeyer just didn’t know what to do with Jake since Bella married Eddie. She probably wasn’t too comfortable with realities, like, I dunno, sometimes nice guys don’t get the girl? This could have been a great opportunity to explore matters like loss and spiritual growth, but why do that when you can turn a bloke into a creepy baby-loving stalker? Making Jake deal with losing Bella was just too hard (It would require thought and everything.) so she threw in imprinting on Renesmee as a way to make her feel all warm’n’squishy inside again.

We now return to Bella's perspective in the narration of the book:
Bella’s first few weeks as a Shmeyerpire seem to mostly revolve around everyone telling her how perfect an’ speshul she is, so I won’t trifle with your intelligence by relating it all. Suffice to say that she and Ed have lots of marital-frolicking (Because saying “sex” is a no-no.) and she does faaaaabulous things like hunting deer in cocktail dresses. Naturally she’s the most prettiestest and most in-control vampire newborn, like, ever (This IS the Shmeyerverse, after all.) and dazzles everyone around her with her presence.
The werewolves know that Jake imprinted on the kiddo, so they no longer want to kill her. (Nice to know that a woman's only redeeming value is being sexy for a man.) Alien---ahem--Nessie (the nudger) is growing at a remarkable rate so that she’ll be snoggable for Jake McPlayMate by the time she’s six (Because sexual relations with children are just swell so long as they develop real quick, right?), and all is good in the Shmeyerverse. D'aw, I can almost hear the Smurfs theme song as I write.

Someone else poked Shmeyer with a sharp stick, and she creates more conflict by having a vampire spot Nessie in the woods whilst her parents are gnawing on Bambi, and the Shmeyerpire goes tattling to the Volturi because she assumed that Nessie was an Immortal Child. According to ol’ Shmeyer, the Nudger isn’t really a vampire, she’s just another super Sue who’s totally perfect an’ junk. (That sizzling sound you hear is coming from what is left of my brain.)
We learn that the Red Coats--::cough::--Volturi are coming, the Volturi are coming! This throws everyone into a tizzy as they decide how to talk them out of making a Cullen flambé. Alice and Jasper go skipping off without explanation (But they’re Shmeyerpires, so never fear, the reason will be noble.) and Carlisle sends words to other wimpy vampires to come and support them.

Noble Readers, don’t be silly and expect some kind of epic battle, this is Twilight we’re talking about, not The Return of the King.
Several vampires from around the world show up, and as anyone can guess, they prove much more interesting than the main characters. My personal favourites are two bloodthirsty Romanian vampires named Stefan and Vladimir. (This would be because they act like proper vampires, not nancy sissy boys with a glitter fetish.)

Continuity issue: In New Moon, Bella takes three days to go to Italy, save Eddie, and come back home. In Breaking Dawn, it takes nearly a month for the Volturi to come to Washington. This begs the question: Did they walk? Backwards? Hopping on one leg? With blindfolds over their eyes and clothespins on their noses so they have to rely on the changing accents to find Forks? Alas, we shall never know.

At length, the dreaded Volturi arrive, and instead of a stirring battle with courage, sacrifice, and Good prevailing over Evil, everyone stands around talking about their feelings. This is the first “vampire” novel I’ve encountered where the end confrontation is a Doctor Phil moment.
In the end, the Volturi leaders are enamored with lil’ Nudger Nessie (Because who could resist such a Sue?), realize she's only demon spawn instead of an Immortal Child, and they go skipping off into the sunset. Cue the collective YAWN.

(I take a break from the narrative for an unimportant announcement: The Twi-fans defend the final dialogues by pointing out that Bella’s vampire gift is a mental shield, and that in her casting it over everyone around her she saved them from Jane (A sadistic vampire girl) and her anemic rip-off of the Cruciatus Curse. I disagree, because in the book Bella’s power is only useful in defending against psychic attacks, so if the Volturi weren’t dumb as dirt and had just walked forward they would have realized that they could kill them all without much fuss.)

It goes without saying that our dim-witted heroes live sappily ever after, and at the words, “THE END” there was a great shout of rejoicing from Yours Truly.

There, now you can say that you are capable of debating even the most ferocious Twilight fangirl, because you know what is in the four books. I have nobly sacrificed many a brain cell to this cause, and hope that you at least had a few giggles in-between hurling into your bucket.
Dearest Readers, thank you for suffering alongside me in the task of staking Twilight.

Ever yours,
Miss Impertinence

Write Like A Shmeyer Day!

2010-08-14T18:14:00.001-07:00

Well Kids, I found out recently that in Forks, WA (You know, the bums that Shmeyer mocks constantly in the Twilight series) September 13th is 'Stephenie Meyer Day'.
Obviously Shmeyer's writing has brought a lot of tourism to this nice little hamlet, but I still find it baffling that they're support a woman who treats their town like it's a boil on the bottom of a particularly flatulent warthog.

I figure something needs to be done to counter such nonsense, and thus I present "Write Like A Shmeyer Day" .

On facebook I run a page shamelessly mocking Twilight (::cough cough:: Brazenselfpromotion ::cough:: ::hack::) at this tastefully inserted link:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/No-Twilight-is-Not-Literature-or-Quality-Entertainment/129919480376098

The event includes writing the craziest Meyerisms you can imagine, including on your status updates, comments, and messages.

I'm hoping people will also use this opportunity to try their hands at parodying Twilight in general, and I will give you this as an example:
I gazed into the opalescent and scintillating orbs of my effusively wind-blown Adonis.
"Stephenie..." he crooned.
"Bella!" I whispered all-secretive like. Edward's marble-like visage was perfect in its manly lack of comprehension.
"Why must I... call you Bella, my plump little snausage?"
"Because no one will read this book if I admit it's about a dim, middle-aged heroine with delusions of nymphhood, mine only seraphically gastronomical emperor-- master--er--boyfriend." I sighed, swooning as I glimpsed his angelic toenails.

That should give my esteemed Readers an idea of what I'm hoping people will produce.

What, you say that it's too devious and dastardly to be done? Nay, fair Reader, I believe that it can be done, though I won't vouch for your sanity at the end of it.

Still, "For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?" - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 57

Merry Mayhem to All!
-Miss Impertinence

Total Eclipse... of the Mind.

2010-08-03T18:44:00.000-07:00

Well, fellow haters (and seething fangirls), it’s that time again. Time for another rude mockumentary of Shmeyer’s travesty of a teen romance. There ain’t enough Advil in the world to keep this from hurting, so there’s no more point in putting it off.

This time, dear Readers, we don our life jackets, plug our noses, and dive into the intellectual cesspool that is Eclipse. I find it ironic that what turned out to be the least mind-numbing film of the bunch was spawned from the book I probably hated the most. Don’t let me sway you, beloved Reader, for I’m a great believer in making up one’s own mind. What little will be left by the end of the novel, anyway.

As with the last two novels, I don’t get past the summary without being tempted past the fortitude of mere mortals:
‘Bella must choose between her friendship with Jacob and her relationship with Edward, but when Seattle is ravaged by a mysterious string of killings, the three of them need to decide whether their personal lives are more important than the well-being of an entire city.’ -Eclipse Summary
First off, there’s nothing mysterious about the killings. Everyone already knows they’re reading a vampire novel, so odds are the culprits are--gee--I dunno, vampires, maybe?
The real gut-buster is that it takes them so long to decide if three petulant teenagers’ collective hormones matter more than 3 million people (population estimated as of 2010). Granted, one of those teens is technically a geezer in his 5th childhood, but it doesn’t make his hormones of that much importance (sorry Gramps). This is just like the last two books. Seemingly endless chapters are devoted to tedious mumblings of ill-worded declarations and self-centered pseudo-ponderings. I warned you, Reader.

Our story begins with the usual vision, dream, and/or scene from the future of the novel. This time it’s typically painful in its wording, but basically some subterfuge or other failed (A Cullen/Bella plot failing? Surely you jest!) and the big bad bully vampire is about to cut ol’ Eddie to ribbons before snarfing Bella. Esteemed Reader, I can’t toy with your hopes in good conscience. I shall spoil it all and say that our dim heroine survives and we must suffer through another 700-something paged novel with her. I’m sorry, so very sorry..

We land back in Shmeyer--er--Bella’s contemplation of her righteous grounding for running away to Italy for three days to save her pasty lover (You know, the prince who left her for the duration of the second book with no explanation). Don’t think for a moment that Bellakins will admit that she has it coming, oh noes, because that might involve some self-awareness! She sniffs and moans about Charlie (Her long-suffering father) being oh-so-mean to her Dead Boy Wonder (Lucky that Charlie was her parent, because I would have just shot the bastard and fixed the police reports). In this we also learn that Jacob (Her oft abused puppy dog) is miffed with her for dumping him like so much manure to hang out with her cadaverous Romeo. Man, she’s on a roll!
In an attempt to give his daughter some grounding and expand her universe beyond Eddie, Charlie makes the outrageous request that Bella make some time for her other friends (You know, the mortals that work their collective arses off to be kind to Bella. This would also be the group that Bella delights in snubbing repeatedly. Shmeyer gave the teens of today quite a role model.). He also includes Jacob in this, not unreasonably since he’s friends with his dad and has known the kid since before he was paper-trained.

As you could have guessed, Bella’s poopsy takes exception to her spending time with Jacob since he isn’t positive he’s had all his shots. Instead of merely admitting he feels threatened by her hanging with someone who’s, y’know, alive, he throws a tantrum and proceeds to gut Bella’s car so she can’t visit Jacob. Don’t worry kids, he makes it all ok by promising to have her car running in time for her to go to school. He even tells her that he understands if she doesn’t want him watching her sleep that night (How saintly! Wow, I wish MY overbearing stalker would be so considerate!). Bella slams her window shut, and I almost respect her until she re-opens it because ohmagaw, she’d be so lonely’n’junk!
At this point you probably heard a primal scream, and that would be yours truly.

From here on we endure a lot of pointless mumblings of adoration between various characters, all centering on Shmeyer--I mean, Bella. As usual, the whole Shmeyerverse wants to snog her, and Bella claims to dislike it whilst constantly obsessing on the subject.
Early on we hear about some heinous murders going on in Seattle, which Eddie says are vampires. This is treated as icky but relatively insignificant when compared to the pressing matter of who gets to bag Bella Swan. Eventually Bella’s room is ransacked by another vampire, and lots of her laundry is stolen (This doesn’t seem to bother her too much, so I can only assume that she’s used to Eddie stealing her only ‘Big Girl Panties’).
Graduation happens with very little accolade, and somehow Bella and her groupies realize that the attacks and knicker theft are linked, and all center around her (Le gasp! Like everything ELSE in the Shmeyerverse? Say it ain’t so!).

United in their desire to protect our limp-wristed heroine, the ‘werewolves’ (Note to Reader: They don’t transform with the full moon, suffer from the transformations or eat people. I assume this is because they are the French Bulldogs of folklore and they traded their vicious characteristics for biscuits and sleeping on the settee) and Meyerpires suddenly unite. It’s almost a care-bear moment except for the constant grunting, flexing, and head-butting between Jake McDateRape and Undead Eddie.

Oh, I should probably mention that somewhere in all of this Jacob goes from being the safe, nice best buddy to borderline date rapist and (semi-brutally) forces a grown-up kiss on Bella. The one time Bella tries to be a big girl (She must have found at least one pair of her ‘Big Girl Knickers’ in the wash or something) and punches him in the mouth, it backfires and her hand breaks. Nice how Shmeyer tells girls everywhere that they shouldn’t try to defy men, because it’ll just fail anyway. I would have just told her to use a squirt bottle or the Cesar Milan technique of “shht!” and a tap to the neck.

Anyway, back to being bored out of our minds:
The only interesting characters, (that would be Jasper, and largely because he almost snarffled Bella in the beginning of book two) and the rest of the Cullen bunch train with the werewolves in defeating legions of the undead (Newborn vampires, which apparently haven’t had time to listen to Swan Lake and become pacifists). Alice’s ability to read the future conveniently becomes accurate again so they can learn that the bad guy from the first book’s hunny took exception to Edward dismembering and burning him, so she wants to take her vampire kiddos on a field trip and kill Bella with gusto. Sounds like a nice family outing to me, but then, I had to read the books and poor Victoria didn’t.

They formulate an ill-conceived plan about luring the Newborn Meyerpires to a handy clearing to have a pseudo-smack down (The ill-conceived part comes as no surprise to those of us who have suffered through Shmeyer’s idea of a plot before). Bella runs around smellifying the area, then is dumped in a tent to wait while the battle goes on.

Leading up to this Shmeyer--I mean Bella, has threatened Ed’s virtue a few times, and he refuses to make sexy times until they’re married. (Because this happens everyday ya know, the harlot woman wanting sex while the chaste hero virtuously refuses until marriage. Mmhm.) Bella’s grossed out by the idea of marriage to the guy she wants to spend eternity with (Again, I’m so sure this is realistic), and whines and mumbles about being given a huge rock for her dainty finger.

Back to the Love Shack!
Oh, did I say that? I meant tent, honestly I did.
Bella has since manipulated Ed, one of the strongest fighters (Would our fussy Romeo be anything less, oh retching Reader?) into sitting on his duff next to her while his family potentially sacrifice themselves to save her sorry rear. Jake’s present, of course, for extra man flesh, (Shmeyer can never resist adding a half-naked under-age piece of meat to the scene) and just in time to slip into Bella’s sleeping bag (For purely noble reasons, could it be anything else?). Bella snores and Eddie somehow bonds with the dude playing footsy with his sleeping fiancé. Go figure.

In the morning, as Bella sends Jake off to what would at least be a dangerous situation if this were not a Shmeyer novel, she suddenly decides he is snoggable after all and plays tonsil-hockey with him. Chaste, virginal blossom, this one. When Eddie shows up and she admits to having kissed Jacob he has a complete personality crisis and instantly forgives her, ‘cuz she’s so distraught an’ junk.

Anyway, while everyone else does all the dirty work keeping his useless twit of a fiancé alive Ed has to get up and thumb-wrestle a bit after all, because Victoria and a new shmuck--ahem--boyfriend come along and try to eat Bella. It’s all extremely tedious, and Eddie wins anyway, so I won’t put you through the details. Suffice to say, I have never been so utterly bored by an “action” sequence in my reading career.
Bella and her Undead Sweetie go to the ‘battlefield’ and see that one teen Shmeyerpire survived, and isn’t so evil. None of this matters, because the Volturi pop up and kill her anyway, just to remind us that there are meanie Shmeyerpires out there. The Cullens stand around and let gross miscarriage of justice go unchallenged to protect their own bums (This is a pattern with the Cullens and Volturi. I have a feeling that they’re pro-Appeasement).

In the end Eddiekins generously decides to let Bella be friends with Jacob (Note: He doesn’t want her around Jacob when she was completely platonic towards him, but now that she’s on snogging terms with him Ed’s cool with it? Somebody needs to get this guy some counseling), and we’re back to where we were at the end of New Moon, with his and Bella’s engagement and a marriage looming in the horizon.

There. I did it.
If you’re wondering why I went so in-depth with the plot from this book, it’s because I genuinely hate it, and I figure that this will help my long-suffering readers to understand why.

Now is the time when I reward you by whipping out some Meyerisms and inviting you to enjoy pointing and laughing. I know I did.

More Reasons To Hate Eclipse (Shmeyerisms!):

“All our attempts at subterfuge had been in vain.” -Page 1
I’m sure we’re all stunned that a plan conceived by Bella the Brain-dead failed.

“But words like destiny and fate seemed hokey when you used them in casual conversation.” -Page 6
Words like destiny and fate seem kinda hokey in a book too, Shmeyer.

“I glanced at the clock routinely--something I did every few minutes around this time.” -Page 7
Captain Redundancy strikes again! Indeed, I think it’s safe to assume that you’re checking a clock frequently if you tell us you do it routinely. Oh, my head…

“I don’t know why you read the news, Dad. It only ticks you off.” -Page 8
The youth of America, ladies and gentlemen. I weep for my country…

“I was still on several hit lists…” -Page 8
Hey, who ratted me out to the authorities?!

“I liked to think of those groups as good vs. evil. Us and them worked too.” -Page 11
On this page Bella is discussing cliques in school, not Shmeyerpires vs. Normal Vampires. A huge symptom of Mary Sues run rampant is that anyone who doesn’t like the precious snowflake (The Precious Protagonist) just happens to be evil. No one decent dislikes them, and everyone else either wants to snog them or wants to be them. I rest my case.

“The existence of monsters results in monstrous consequences.” -Page 22 (Edward quote)
::snrk:: Consequences like trash fiction, you mean?

“I can’t not try to help him…” -Page 32
Boy, I can’t not ignore a double negative. That’s like the Unforgivable Sin of writing, and Shmeyer just committed it in published fiction. The best bit is that this woman supposedly has a degree in Literature.

“I couldn’t remember the witty response I’d been about to make.” -Page 43
Somehow I’m not surprised, are you?

“Without Edward, the day was guaranteed to be unbearable.” -Page 169
Oh, now THIS is healthy. This guy rips out your car engine, has his family kidnap you when he’s out of town, but you’re PINING? This guy belongs on Crime Watch, not on a list of ‘People’s Sexiest Men Alive’.

“Sorry,” I muttered. I suddenly understood what Edward had been laughing about earlier, after breathing on me.” -Page 223
I find it ironic that we’re told again and again how uncouth the werewolves are, and how primitive, when it’s EDDIE who practically pees on the girl to mark his territory.

“I’m discovering that I can sympathize with Heathcliff in ways I didn’t think possible before.” -Page 265
Um, I’m scared. This tells you everything you need to know, Readers. He sympathizes with the ultimate abusive boyfriend.

“Benito had to keep making more as they fought amongst themselves, and as the covens he decimated took more than half his force down before they lost.” -Page 290
I was going to let this one go, but my conscience assaulted me. There was no way I’d be able to sleep tonight if I didn’t address this…
Decimate means to take one-tenth of a force down. It comes from the Roman Legion, because if a Legion displayed cowardice they would line them up and kill every tenth man. Needless to say, it was quite an incentive.
I believe she means annihilation, but as Shmeyer and I aren’t on chatting terms, I guess we’ll never know.

“I was sure this party was far cooler than anything else the town of Forks had experienced before.” -Page 369
Because it ain’t Bella if she isn’t mocking a small town! But she’s so nice and grounded, right?

“Huh? Oh--- Er, thanks again for the clothes,” I mumbled more out of courtesy than real gratitude.” -Page 582
Charming. The Cullens constantly go out of their way for her, and she treats them nearly as poorly as she does the hicks. No wonder she’s on so many hit lists.

Well, Readers, I also promised at some point I would count how many times people purse their lips in a Shmeyer novel.
In just Eclipse she managed to fit it in no less than ELEVEN times (in 629 pages). I’m not even dealing with the word ‘chagrin’. I don’t think I’m strong enough, to be honest. Then we have people laughing a this-or-that laugh… let’s face it, Shmeyer luuuuurrrves redundancy, and no amount of my snarking will save that book.

This may mention New Moon, but I'd say it better describes Eclipse:

I just hope that for those of you who haven’t read the book yet, or would rather not, you can now understand why I hated it more than any other in the series. I’ve done my duty, sacrificed my sanity in the name of the Greater Good… and am now considering raising a collection for the counseling I might need after writing the Breaking Dawn blog. Be brave, dear Readers.

Ever Yours,
Miss Impertinence

When Fangirls Attack, Part IV! (In 3D, no less)

2010-07-12T07:51:00.000-07:00

I really love fangirls/fanboys.

Put down that stake, I haven't been 'turned'. I have excellent reasons for loving rabid fans, and their anthem-like declarations of love and devotion to their idol/cause, however lame it may be. (Poor Rob Pattinson... the sap.)

The truth is that these fanatics make my job delightful.
It's absolutely no fun holding a franchise in contempt if the devotees are all rational, intelligent creatures who are capable of taking criticism without coming unhinged. (Really, then I'd have nothing but cool-headed debate instead of a massacre. It's nearly as bad as a vampire wringing his hands about his 'feelings' instead of just enjoying a good, old-fashioned exsanguination.)

This may come as a surprise, but I have very close friends who are rather devoted Twilight fans. (Yes, they are still friends with me. Believe me, I'm just as puzzled as you are.)
The reason I define them as Twilight fans instead of fangirls/fanboys is their ability to look at the books and films with a critical eye. (Well, that and the fact that they haven't run me over or poisoned my soup is evidence of their impressive self-control..)
One or two of them have admittedly changed alliances and become "Antis", but others are even more unusual in that they can enjoy the series yet openly admit to its flaws.

Now, if all the fans were this self-aware I'd obviously be writing on some other tired subject right now (Like "Eclipse", God forbid!). Fortunately for us (and my perverse sense of humour) nearly half of the Twilight fandom is 100% cuckoo, so here we are!

Before I start a list of why we should like the fanatics I do have to address one charge that is often leveled at Antis, and that is the idea that to mock the franchise says much more about the critic than Twilight. In some cases, I do have to agree. (I saw that crossbow, put it down and hear me out!)
When someone has a knee-jerk reaction and says that any romance must be idiotic, or that the word vampire immediately indicates the occult, I would say that the person needs to step back and take a look at their assumptions. I've seen some who clearly dislike Twilight because it's aimed at females, and that kind of sexism will never be tolerated on my page. (Twilight's failings are mainly rooted in that the series upholds borderline misogyny.)

I also have a problem with jumping on a fan site or page that doesn't welcome dissenting opinions just for the pleasure of trolling. (Yes, even I have standards. They may be low, but they're there.)

I'm for informed hatred, as my dear friend Imp puts it. You need to have reasons, and know how to clearly defend them if they are challenged.
In other words: You don't get to fight like an overwrought high school girl just because you're arguing with one!
The above paragraphs don't mean that everyone who actively criticizes Twilight is wrong, or that the critic has no life. Whether we like it or not (and that would be a 'not'), Twilight is indeed a world-wide phenomena. (I'm pretty sure that this is a sign of the Apocalypse, but we'll know for sure depending whether or not Meyer releases another book.)
To say that books and films ought not be discussed or even challenged is to throw out literary criticism going back as far as written language. (Phoenicians probably aren't as nice as I am, fangirls/boys, so count your lucky stars)

5 Reasons Haters Love Fangirls:

1) Cheap Entertainment Overall: Hey, sometimes we run out of books, and nothing is playing in the cinema. I'm not suggesting you go trolling. This is more like fishing. Just put out your bait, sit back, and wait, because in time, the fangirls will inevitably come to you. If you're looking for instant gratification you can also go to any number of anti-twilight pages or book reviews online and chances are you'll find a couple of giggle-inducing fanatical rants. The best bit is that they do it for free! (They're like a performing seal, but you don't have to give them a treat.) They make it so easy, poor lambs.

2) Language, Language: It's not hard to look virtuous next to a rabid fangirl/boy. They tend to spend a lot of time babbling incoherently and changing topics mid-sentence It's kind of like getting to laugh at the expense of a drunk friend, except that you don't have to clean up the puke or call them a cab. Disappointingly, even many of the Twi-Moms have exceptionally poor spelling and grammar... I think they might be speaking Martian. How can you not love someone who makes your best friend's drooling toddler look like Dostoevsky?

3) The Logic: Never stop a fanatic mid-rant, esteemed Reader, because you will be missing out! Here's one of my favourite examples from http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/culture/lindywest1/100044557/twilight-eclipse-–-so-bad-so-boring-that-itll-leave-you-borderline-comatose/ (A side note: I did not write that blog, but boy did I laugh!). The best comment is from a lass named Niaamh:

Are you living in the dark ages? or perhaps it's just your age, though you do not look that old. How I ask, How can you not like twilight at all, have you watched all the movies, have you read all the books? How can you review a epic saga like twilight without doing any of these? Obviously you have closed yourself off to the world of twilight hence you did not like the movie.
Twilight is an epic tale and for you to call it boring is an outrage of course everyone is entitled to their opinion but I am pretty sure that Twilight has a larger fanbase than what you have and it won't leave people comatose only those who cannot truly appreciate the movie for what it is!
Twilight is profound and it's quite igorant to think otherwise, you don't understand the intensity of the love between bella and edward and that length they go for one another, not only that but the whole area of the vampire world where the cullens fight a constant battle each day to not drink human blood, like an addiction but more importantly that would be like me telling you not to eat any of your favourite foods and live on something that dosen't satisfy you, honestly would you like that, enjoy it even? no you would probably suffer and like that the cullens suffer!
I know I am going on but I am totally infuriated at your view of twilight! Rob pattinson is anything but bland..... :@ Kirsten Stewart is the one who is bland, she's the one who is anti-social and quite literally detached from any from of social interaction, maybe you and her are on each other's level and that's why you think she's more interesting? I could list many more arguments on this subjects but I will decide not too.
Until you look at it in depth and understand the whole concept of twilight I think your arguments are weak and completely opinated.
Yours annoyed
Niamh

Gosh, the writer was SUCH an "opinated" cow, how DARE she not like Eclipse? (::snrk::)
I think dear Niamh (Niaamh? I don't know which is right, since she can't even spell her own NAME consistently.) said it all.

4) They Make It Personal: Once again, a Twihard never resists making an emotional appeal. Nia(a?)mh is a fantastic example. "like an addiction but more importantly that would be like me telling you not to eat any of your favourite foods and live on something that dosen't satisfy you, honestly would you like that, enjoy it even? no you would probably suffer and like that the cullens suffer!" (Dear Whatever-your-name-is: Try living with celiac disease or a life-threatening food allergy. I know people who do both, and whine a hell of a lot less. Best part? One of them is a whopping 14, and she is more of a functional adult than the characters in Meyer's fiasco of a novel.)
Other phrases from fans:
"UR just jelous becaus u dont have bela's life!" (Question, are we talking about Bella, or Bela Lugosi?)
"Fat bitch!" (Body shaming. Nice.)
"Read my sparkling lips. I. Hate. You. End of story. If you don't get the
picture. I LOVE TWILIGHT! RIGHT! THAT'S IT! *takes out bazooka* SAY GOODNIGHT TWILIGHT HATER! *firesbazooka at you* Oh Edward! That's one less person to be mean to you." (This one was written to a girl for writing two little pages of Twilight Parody. I guess poking fun at Ed the Undead now qualifies as a hate crime.)

5) Free Labor: In a sense, they do my job for me. I can't tell you how many converted Antis I've met who used to like Twilight, until they met the other fans. Generally sane people don't like extremes, and girls who wet themselves at the mention of Undead Ed and Jake McDateRape would probably terrify the Al Qaeda, much less some poor soul who was just looking for a summer read.

So, esteemed Readers, before you shy away from someone in a Team Such-and-such tee, pause, and give thought to the endless possibilities for entertainment. After all, this is a recession, and we ought to find our laughs where we can.

Your Snarky Informant,
Miss Impertinence

It May Be A Tragedy, But Shakespeare It Ain't

2010-07-03T09:25:00.000-07:00

Here is New Moon in a Nutshell:

New Moon Shmeyerisms:

‘So it didn’t matter to me that we were surrounded by our extraordinarily dangerous enemies.’ -Page 2
Well, that‘s a relief! I try to save my panic attacks for uber-dangerous or mega-dangerous enemies, myself.

‘Gran had been dead for six years now, so that was solid evidence toward the dream theory.’ -Page 3
Clever thing, did she figure that out all by herself?

‘All through the perfect summer----the happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer anyone anywhere had ever had, and the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic Peninsula---this bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring.’ -Page 6
I guess if she hadn’t written the word “summer” four times in a single run-on sentence I might have forgotten what season it was.

‘ “Happy Birthday, Bella!”
“Shh!” I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard her. The last thing I wanted was some kind of celebration of the black event.’ -Page 8
Here I might have pointed out how twisted it is that Bella’s turning 18 and is already freaking out over her age, but then, I don’t think her birth is anything the world needs to be celebrating either.

‘Hearing the stutter in my heartbeats, he smiled again.’ -Page 9
Wow, from spluttering to stuttering, I guess this is an improvement.

‘(College was Plan B. I was still hoping for Plan A, but Edward was just so stubborn about leaving me human.)’ -Page 13
Who can blame him? If I were Eddie I wouldn’t want this mumbling, mopey broad around for eternity either.

‘(He was ridiculously enthusiastic about Plan B.)’ -Page 13
Now, hasn’t Meyer been stressing all this time about how old-fashioned Eddie-boy is? Yet Bella’s the one who wants to be a sparkly cadaver to avoid schooling?

‘ “Your radio has horrible reception.”
I frowned. I didn’t like it when he picked on my truck. The truck was great---it had personality.’ -Page 15
It certainly has more personality than you and Dead Eddie.

‘Unlike Alice, Edward’s other “adopted” sister, the golden blonde and exquisite Rosalie, didn’t like me much.’ -Page 24
Le gasp!! Surely not!

‘Actually, the feeling was a little bit stronger than just dislike.’ -Page 24
This is why Rosalie is the brains of the operation. As a side note, Meyer has a habit of making every woman who dislikes Bella a blonde. It gets tiresome to see this kind of cliché, not to mention that while it isn’t racism, it’s a pretty disgusting practice to generalize someone by how much eumelanin or pheomelanin is in their hair. (This is the danger of letting a cosmetologist read your crap fiction, Meyer. I can call you out!) Victoria doesn’t count because her vendetta isn’t personally against Bella, it’s against ol’ Eddie.

‘Alice, I assumed, had covered every flat surface with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. There was a table with a white cloth draped over it next to Edward’s grand piano, holding a pink birthday cake, more roses, a stack of glass plates, and a small stack of silver-wrapped presents.
It was a hundred times worse than I’d imagined.’ -Page 25
Egads, how DOES she bear it? If I had been graced with such a terrible birthday I’m sure I could never have bourn such misery!
Sarcasm at Bella’s barnyard manners aside, there’s a huge continuity issue here. With the birthday cake there is a stack of glass plates, but no other humans were invited, and vampires don’t eat mortal grub. Maybe they’re fattening Bella up to eat her?

‘I put on my best martyr face.’ -Page 27
I wonder what her second-best martyr face looks like?

‘I pursed my lips unhappily.’ -Page 38
I promise that one of these days I’ll count how many times people purse their lips in her novel. I still say that Meyer’s first boyfriend must have been a deranged goldfish.

‘Her eyes were hard, like stones, like Emeralds.’ -Page 40
This was supposedly Carlisle relaying the story of Eddie becoming the Undead Boy Wonder to Bella. No one talks this way when they’re relaying a past event unless they’re Meyer or Dan Brown. (Oh yes, I did go there. I’d say ‘bite me’, but since I can’t anticipate the state of one’s oral hygiene I think I’d better not.)

‘He smiled my favorite crooked smile, and then disappeared into the darkness.’ -Page 46
Wait, this woman graduated Brigham Young University and still doesn’t know how to use an adverb? It never once occurred to her that she should write, ‘He smiled crookedly, then disappeared into the darkness.’? (Crookedly describes the verb “smiled”, so it is an adverb, for those of you who might ask.)
Steph honey, you need to get your money back. Same goes for whoever conned you into believing they actually EDITED your book.

‘When he stopped it was abrupt; he pushed me away with gentle, firm hands.’ -Page 51
Why doesn‘t he just say, “Ew, Bellaaaa, I haven’t had my cootie shot this week!” I mean, really Ed?

“I was a plague.” -Page 56
Well, Swan, for once we agree. Remember, she said it, herself!

‘It was almost uncanny that anyone could look so… so… beyond description. No thousand words could equal this picture.’ -Page 65
I find it uncanny that any writer can pen something so… so… beyond description. No, not beyond description, how about LUDICROUS.
I also like that it never occurred to her to say, ‘His picture was beyond description.’

‘He looked like a god.’ -Page 65
This might not be a compliment. Remember Hephaestus? His mummy threw him off Olympus for being homely.

‘I looked very average, even for a human, almost shamefully plain.’ -Page 65
Right, because you’re not Meyer’s precious snowflake or anything. Don’t mind the fact that she chews men up and spits them out as part of her morning routine.

‘He smiled my favorite crooked smile, but it was wrong.’ -Page 67
In the space of 21 pages she writes it TWICE. Her editor was either staggering drunk or laughing themselves silly at her expense.

‘So why was the panic choking me?’ -Page 67
Because I and my esteemed Readers unfortunately can’t reach your neck, Bella.

‘Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.’ -Page 93
Fragment sentences grate. Even when the character is being melodramatic. Even when each period that should be a comma stabs into my brain like a scalpel. It breaks things up unevenly, in strange lurches and jarring halts, but end it does. When I close this book.
Actually, you’d think she was describing how I feel reading Meyer’s prose.

‘I sat down on the bench outside the theater door and tried very hard not to think of the irony. But it was ironic, all things considered, that, in the end, I would wind up as a zombie. I hadn’t seen that one coming.’ -Page 106
Funny, because she’s making it sound as if Bella being a zombie is a new development…
Note that she uses a form of the word “irony” twice in only two sentences, and seems to be using a plethora of commas to make up for omitting them on page 93.

‘That particular part of that particular evening was just a blur.’ -Page 109
That particular part of that particular page was particularly excruciating.

‘The voice in my head answered with an exquisite snarl.’ -Page 114
I’m sure that she says Eddie’s burps are angelic, too.

‘That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice.’ -Page 116
First off, you don’t start a sentence with the word “that”. I did have an unladylike guffaw when Bella mentioned her mind being a sieve. I could have told her that. The ‘texture of his VOICE’? Lady, I’ve got news for you, but voices have a sound, but not a texture. Even when someone describes a voice as, say, “rough”, it is still a sound, and not truly a texture. This is poor word choice, milady.

‘It was a crippling thing, this sensation that a huge hole had been punched through my chest, excising my most vital organs and leaving ragged, unhealed gashes around the edges that continued to throb and bleed despite the passage of time.’ -Page 116
Hem, hem. Miss Meyer, the word “gashes” indicate the use of a knife, and the way you describe the wound makes it sound more like these delicacies had been ripped out of her. I must also ask, how would you or your character know what said injuries would feel like? Unless you were an Aztec sacrifice in an earlier life, in which case I’ll gladly retract my criticism of this particular idiocy.

‘Like I’d told Jessica after the movie, there was never any doubt that I would have nightmares.
I always had nightmares now, every night. Not nightmares really, not in the plural, because it was always the same nightmare.’ -Page 122
The same nightmare? More like the same bloody word in every sentence!

‘When I realized there was nothing to search for, and nothing to find. That there never had been anything more than this empty, dreary wood, and there never would be anything more for me… nothing but nothing…
That was usually when the screaming started.’ -Page 123
Sounds more like she’s describing a dream that I have… except I dream that I’ll never get out of this book.
Number of times she used the word…
Nothing: 4
Never: 2
Anything: 2
This is when my screaming begins.

‘Those were Charlie’s two very favorite words when it came to motorcycles.’ -Page 127
I hate to break it to you, but favourite (Yes I like my British spelling, so there) is as high up it gets on likes. You don’t stick very onto it, because if you say something’s your favourite, we get that it must be the top of the “likes” pile.

‘She was beautiful in an exotic way---perfect copper skin, glistening black hair, eyelashes like feather dusters--- and preoccupied.’ -Page 149‘Eyelashes like feather DUSTERS’? No, dearie, I think you meant that her eyelashes were feathery. If they looked like feather dusters everyone would run for the hills.

‘ “No, Bella!” the angry honey-sweet voice ordered in my ear. “Watch what you’re doing!” ’ -Page 187
Wait, I thought this voice was in her head, so how can it be in her ear? You only hear something with your ears if they’re outside of your skull, Nitwit. Nice to know that even her Eddie hallucinations order her around.

‘And I wasn’t giving it up---I’d had the most amazing hallucination today. My velvet voiced delusion had yelled at me for almost five minutes before I’d hit the brake too abruptly and launched myself into a tree. I’d take whatever pain that would cause me tonight without complaint.’ -Page 193
Bella Swan, Boys and Girls. Gee, don’t you wish YOUR daughter would act like her?

‘It was so wrong to use Jacob this way. Pure selfishness.’ -Page 216
‘Yet I knew I wouldn’t send him away, regardless. I needed him too much, and I was selfish.’ -Page 217
People spend a lot of time talking about how Bella gets walked on by the men in her life, but I’d like to point out that she’s a manipulative, passive aggressive wench. She knows what she’s doing, and uses the people around her ruthlessly. This cow’s behavior is reprehensible.

‘The smile broke across his face the way the sunrise set the clouds on fire, and I wanted to cut my tongue out.’ -Page 218
Why, Bella! I’d be thrilled to oblige!

‘ “Beg,” my hallucination begged.’ -Page 241
Oh, dear Reader, I wish I could say I was lying to you. I beg you to beg it to stop!

At some point I had to put down the book and give up in disgust. When I took up this project I had forgotten how much worse Meyer’s writing gets in New Moon. You know it’s really bad when you can only bear to go to page 241 of bad quotes when the book has 563 in total.
The rest of the book proceeds down the same, tired path, and I don’t know if I have enough of my sanity left to accurately relay it all. There are just as many reasons to hate this book as the last, only now we have a few new characters to hold in contempt. Here’s a synopsis of the book:

New Moon, Same Old Tired Song

We begin with Bella having a poorly written nightmare about aging. Apparently the greatest evil to befall womankind is a few wrinkles and gray hairs. She whines about her lot in life, then goes to school to pout and whine some more.
The Cullens try to celebrate Bella’s 18th birthday, and the little ingrate goes stomping through the party like a dour little Neanderthal (with my sincere apologies to Neanderthals everywhere). She finally has the grace to open their gifts and gets a paper cut (poor wee bairn!) and Jasper tries to eat her. What looks like it promises to be the best page of my life is spoiled because Eddie is a party pooper and saves her. Naturally he gets melodramatic and decides the best way to keep her safe is for the Cullens to leave Forks, and thus they vamoose.

Oh, Meyer also has this dreadful habit of comparing her works to literature that actually has value, and in this book she attacks none other than Willie Shakespeare. That’s right, because if you were too dim to miss the Romeo and Juliet quote she uses to open her book, she thoughtfully mentions the damn thing about five times in the first two chapters. This isn’t foreshadowing, this is just brainless. Then again, we’re talking about the woman who tells you on the back of her first book that Eddie’s big secret is that he’s a vampire.

Bella mopes about for a few months, finally admits to the world that she’s a zombie, then decides to abuse Jacob Black for a bit. She leads him on, he adores her etc. and she figures out that she feels great around him. I must point out that when she’s with Sir Cadaver she either feels lustful or insignificant, and I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a pretty pathetic relationship. Jacob may not have the brains to see that he’s being used, but he treats her well and actually makes her feel good. In fact, when she’s with him it’s the closest she ever comes to being semi-disgusting instead of uber-disgusting. Go figure.

You already know what’s coming. Jacob goes werewolf, Bella sulks and whines, big bad vampires want to eat her, and again we’re supposed to pity the wretch. (After all, she is Meyer’s precious little snowflake.) Bella goes cliff diving and Jacob has to haul her sorry bum out of the sea, which Edward somehow hears about and construes to mean that Bella’s dead. Any sensible bloke would have a pint with his mates to celebrate, but oh noes, this IS a Meyer novel, so Eddie decides to go to Italy to ask some vampires snobs to do him in. (Again, as if we should care.)
Alice shows up and grabs Bella so they can go save him (le yawn), and naturally everything ends happy and sparkly, until Bella gets rejected by Jacob for snogging a corpse. Sounds to me like a perfectly rational reaction.

This entire book was incredibly dull and unimaginative. I came up with trash like this when I was fourteen, and it was embarrassing then. There is no redeeming quality to this story, and I won’t pretend otherwise. Run, run far away if you see it on a shelf.

Drooling fangirls will no doubt say that I gave my dear Readers a bad spark notes version (or sparkle notes, perhaps?) and that I’m just a bitter, snarky broad with too much time on my hands. I welcome those comments, because I really need an excuse to point and laugh. It is beyond comprehension how anyone could find these books remotely compelling.

The way I see it, I should be the Patron Saint of Aggravated Readers.

Yours in Suffering,

Miss Impertinence

2010-06-30T07:53:00.000-07:00

Call it a "Saga" Once More and I Shall Poke Thee in Thine Wee Warped Brain.

2010-06-23T06:49:00.000-07:00

I shall vent mine spleen...

Yes, I'm still on that Twilight kick (it's a common theme, get used to it), and this is my big chance to vent on a subject that has irked me since I first noticed these books in 2005.

I'm a self-proclaimed folklore nerd (See? I just proclaimed it.), and have spent the last year or so specifically researching Norse and Germanic folktales for a story I'm writing. (This is purely for my own amusement, and no, it won't have sparkling or 'piercing silences')
The first thing every book I've cracked open on the subject does is talk about the term 'saga'.

Meyer: "Oh noes, not a REAL book!!!"
Oh yes, Miss Meyer.

A saga is defined as: 'The sagas (from Icelandic saga, plural sǫgur), are stories about ancient Scandinavian and Germanic history, about early Viking voyages, about migration to Iceland, and of feuds between Icelandic families. They were written in the Old Norse language, mainly in Iceland.

The texts are epic tales in prose, often with stanzas or whole poems in alliterative verse embedded in the text, of heroic deeds of days long gone, tales of worthy men, who were often Vikings, sometimes Pagan, sometimes Christian. The tales are usually realistic, except legendary sagas, sagas of saints, sagas of bishops and translated or recomposed romances. They are sometimes romanticised and fantastic, but always dealing with human beings one can understand.' But Bella's so relatable, riiight?

And I don't care if you don't like my punctuation, because it is MY page and I am supreme dictator here, muahaha and stuff.

In Sweden and Norway a saga is almost always a folktale, and it has a healthy dose of ancestral history mixed in with fantasy.

You know what this means, don't you, esteemed Reader? That's right, TWILIGHT IS NOT A SAGA BY ANY STRETCH OF THE WORD!
(Meyer: *shrivels up from contact with textbook*)

If Meyer's deranged publishers had asked me what the series should be called, here are some options I would have been kind enough to offer:

The Twilight Drama

The Twilight Debacle (Spiffy, eh?)

Dimbulb

Twilight: The Sulky Soap Opera

Twilight: A Deranged Fable for the Desperate

Of course I could go on, but I really don't think it would benefit my already questionable character. I would love to believe that someone will take this to heart and stop calling this feeble narrative a saga, I really would. Alas, fangirls are not rational creatures. (No, really, make the Vulcan sign with your hand, they'll burst into flames!)
And after all... what can we expect from a woman who writes about marble granitish skin that doth sparkle like diamonds encasing a godly physique of chastely smuttiness?

Lo there do I see the fangirls, so run I shall.

'Resist the madness, dear Readers. I stand for Literacy and Sanity!' -Miss Impertinence

Reasons I Despise Twilight (and so should you!)

2010-06-22T14:29:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows me will have anticipated this post for many moons. I've made no secret of my dislike for the Twilight franchise, in fact I've had several harrowing encounters with rabid fans because of it. I even have my own facebook group heaping scorn on the series (Lookit me, Kids, I'm a bonafide h8ter!).

I suppose I could blame my mother.. after all, she's the one who deposited the first two books in my lap. (and I thought she loved me!) I was sputtering incoherently for a good while (I excel at sputtering, apparently) and that gave her enough time to tell me that she was tired of my rants, and that I needed to read the darn things and use that as fuel for my writing. I think she just wanted to see me squirm, but that's a whole 'nother blog.

The funny thing is, after I could make myself touch them, I secretly hoped there would be some redeeming quality to the books, even if it was just a single, enjoyable chapter. This is the point where we point and laugh, Boys and Girls. Yes, I knew better, and yes, I was heavily medicated at the time. So what’s YOUR excuse?

Before I start, don’t tell me that I can’t criticize these books because I’m not an author. That’s like saying that you can’t tell your hairdresser she screwed up a cut or color because you’re not a licensed cosmetologist (suck on that, fan girls).

I could write a long, detailed review, but the truth is whenever I try to make myself open those books again I get physically nauseated. Yes, nauseated, not nauseous. I stand by that.
::hem:: Instead of a typical essay I'll give you a nice list of reasons why I spend so much energy heaping scorn on this debacle of a novel.

Reasons I Despise Twilight (and so should you!):

1. The Dreaded Sue:
I'm sure as little kids we've all been guilty of this. We've all wished for grand adventures, imagined flying to Neverland, or maybe dreamed of marrying the Disney prince we admired the most... aw, sweet.
THEN WE TURNED SEVEN!
It wasn't enough for Meyer to secretly have blushing fantasies about teenage boys wearing excessive body glitter, oh noes, she had to go and write a bloody NOVEL about it. It's painfully obvious that she is meant to be Bella, and that it's little more than a vessel to allow her to mentally snog her Dead Boy Wonder. She even admits to making Bella an empty void in hopes that some desperate female will picture themselves in her shoes. (I jest thee not, dear Reader)
I can only expend so many brain cells listening to Bella say, "OMG im so plain'n'ugly n ths town sux so bad n i totally dnt fit in plz dnt mind the 5 hotties who all wnt me lolz jk!"
It's ok, I want to shoot her too.

2. The Summary:
That’s right, I didn’t even make it to the first chapter before I was provided ample reason to point and laugh.
‘When seventeen-year-old Bella leaves Phoenix to live with her father in Forks, Washington, she meets an exquisitely handsome boy at school for whom she feels an overwhelming attraction and who she comes to realize is not wholly human.’
I’m exquisitely overwhelmingly and wholly nauseated by your abuse of the thesaurus. (translation for Meyer: I think I threw up a little in my mouth.)

3. The Plot:
Har har, just kidding, there WAS none!
Well, we had a little bit of one in the last hundred pages or so. For a book that is just a hair under 500 pages this is not a win. Let me give you the whole book:
“New girl in town falls in love with hottest boy in school (Wowee, I never saw THAT coming!). Said hunk has dark secret that leads her into a dangerous forbidden love. Big bad meanies show up who don’t want them in love (the tension is killing me!). Bimbo puts herself in mortal peril and hot guy saves her. The end.”
So, in five sentences, including my Austen-esque “the end”, I gave you what Meyer attempted to convey in nearly 500 pages.

4. Our Charming Heroine:
Isabella Swan. Yeah, because that name gives nothing away. *rolls eyes* Oh, by all means, tell me I should love a character who spends the first few pages telling you what she's WEARING (Really deep, Meyer) and moaning about how bitterly unfair her life is. She then proceeds to ramble on about how quiet she is (*snrk*) and trash talk her mother, father, hometown, situation (which she, by the way, imposed on herself), peers, weather, house, hick schools with only *gasp* about 350 students (How endearing!), internet connection, bathroom, and anything else that occurs to her. A woman of few words, eh?
Again, tell me I should care. Never in all my years of reading have I seen such a SNIVELING wretch of a girl.
Oh, then she spends more time talking about what she looks like. (insert lobotomy here)

5. Fair Verona:
Meaning Forks, the poor town that gets stuck with this cow. I should have counted how many times Bella makes cutting remarks about a nice little town full of people working their bums off to make her feel comfortable and accepted. Gee, poor wee blossom. I can't go on enough about how cruel, unfair, and rude this brat is to them (Tell me, Princess, were you raised in a barn?!). She even complains about HOW GREEN Washington state is.
‘It was too green--- an alien planet.’ pg 8
Wow, green vegetation... even plants don't escape her insults.

6. Sir Sizzle McSparkleSnog von DeadBum:
Obviously I could devote entire books to the futile task of describing, adequately, how poorly written these books are. Problem is, I'm pretty sure that would violate the Geneva Convention. Just talking about Fairy boy should get the point across..
If I ever hear "scintillating arms", "liquid topaz", "velvet voice", or--brace yourself---"agonized Adonis" again I may end up in prison (use your imagination regarding the conviction).
So, Edward is meant to be the end-all and be-all of female sexual fantasy. Funny, for a woman who boasts the lack of premarital sex in her books, she sure talks about Edward's body a lot. His chest, eyes, lips, hair, ears, breath, voice, and left manky toenail are all gushed about in painful detail. I say painful because I broke ribs laughing.
Someone so "dazzling" that his touch makes Bella FAINT? Or his kiss makes her heart pound madly then STOP? Don't get me started on Bella's descriptions of what her heart does... apparently it bumps, grinds, does the mambo, then ends up lodged somewhere in her ankle region.
‘My heart spluttered hyperactively.’ page 201
When I could get off the floor, breathe normally, and stop kicking my feet I couldn’t help but wonder what possessed Meyer to use this word. It makes me think that her heart is blowing a raspberry, or making a loud, drawn-out farting sound. Admit it, you thought so too.
Before I read this book I expected to hate Edward far more than Bella. He’s domineering, intimidating, controlling, insulting, vain, selfish, possibly bipolar (the unmedicated kind), immature, elitist… but the more I read of Bella, I realized that this was a pretty sane reaction to her personality. I think that if I were in that girl’s presence I would have murdered her in the first chapter. It’s like the Darwin Awards. This girl is too stupid to live.

7. The Writing:
Believe it or not, Shakespeare she ain't. The thing that slays me is how many sentences repeat the same noun or verb. Now, we all know that even good authors have a few clumsy sentences in their work, but Meyer does it routinely. Here are two examples:
‘He smiled my favorite crooked smile’
Not, ‘he smiled crookedly‘, or, ‘his lips curved into a crooked smile’. She uses that trite phrase so many times throughout her books that I won’t even bother to give you page numbers… because believe me, if you’re masochistic enough to crack open this garbage, you WILL come across it.
Then there's another goodie: ‘He sighed a heavy sigh’, rather than, ‘he sighed heavily’. (insert primal scream here) That little gem was in New Moon, and I’d rather be sandblasted and kicked in a pool of salty lemon juice than return to that novel and dig it up.
Meyer also uses the word “shock” for every moment that isn’t dull-as-dirt (and sometimes for moments that are). She also loves chagrin, anguish, and saying that Bella purses her lips every time she thinks. (both times) It brings to mind a mentally deficient goldfish. Poor Stephenie also doesn’t know how to use “he said”, “she said”, “asked”, or “spoke”.
I have reached the conclusion that the only thing this bimbo is qualified to write is a potty-training book. (Look Ma, I got it all in the pot!)

*A Shmeyerism is a word or phrase that is either used improperly or is so packed full of misused adjectives that it is rendered incomprehensible

The Shmeyerisms We Love to Hate:
(note: Esteemed Reader: I won’t give the book title unless it’s a later book. I’m pretty sure Twilight will deliver as much pain as you can tolerate in one sitting.)

‘….and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely.’ page 54
Not ‘reveling in the solitude’?

‘I was in danger of being distracted by his livid, glorious face. It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel.’ page 65… Um, the punk’s just cranky about not getting his way, and all you can do is drool? Well, Ladies, Susan B. Anthony just did flips in her grave.

‘Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful.’ page 8
Too bad the editor didn’t put down the crack in order to make this horrific book ‘just that much less dreadful’.

‘Forks high school had a frightening total of only 357---now 358 ---students; there were more than 700 people in my junior class alone back home.’ page 9
Way to alienate everyone who didn’t go to a mammoth school, Bella. I half expected her to write that everyone’s last name was Buchannon or Buchannon-Buchannon and they all drink moonshine and pick each other’s lice in the halls. Such a sweet child, she is.

‘I didn’t relate well to people, period.’ page 10
Nawwwwwwwww! Ya THINK?

‘They weren’t talking, and they weren’t eating, although they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them.’ page 18
If you say they weren’t eating, I think we can all figure out that the trays of food would be untouched. That’s like me saying, ‘I threw the book down and vomited into the bucket, and I wasn’t holding my food down, nor was I able to stop the regurgitation.’ If there’s one thing Meyer seems to love, it’s redundancy.

‘Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes, despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes--- purplish, bruise like shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose.’ page 21
In two sentences, she needed to use the word “pale” three times? The word “shadows” twice in only one sentence? Oh, and we know the shadows had to be under “those eyes”, because how could THEY have shadows under anyone else’s? She's trying to convey how ‘devastatingly beautiful’ these people are, and she basically says they look like they were in a bar fight. I’ve got news for you, Meyer, but I’ve been as pale as they come with dark circles under my eyes my entire life, and I have YET to have anyone say, “Excuse me, but you’re ever so devastatingly beautiful, with your chalky paleness, purple shadows, and straight nose, are you by any chance a vampire?” Lady, you’ve got some weird ideas about what makes a hottie.

‘It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike of me.’ page 27
Oh, I wouldn’t bet on that, Bella. After all, I did.

‘Edward scooped me up in his arms, as easily as if I had weighed ten pounds instead of one-hundred and ten.’ page 97
*Pfffffffffffffft!* Here, dear Reader, there is no way for me to comment without sounding catty, but I really must point something out. The author is no pixie, and with her bone structure I can promise you that she never was. Therefore I must question what drove her to make 5’4” Bella about a size two? How is that relatable to the average teenage girl, or relevant to her story? This is shameless Mary-Sue-ism (of course that’s the proper term) at its lowest, and only serves to make her ridiculous fantasy even more pathetic.

‘Now that there was no longer the sound of my soggy footsteps, the silence was piercing.’ page 137
*all nine Muses die horribly*
‘the SILENCE was PIERCING?!’ In the name of the sainted Jane Austen, WHAT THE HELL?! I hate to break it to you, but that is a shameless misuse of the English Language. I suppose she also thinks that the water was fiery, or that the numbness tickled?

‘His faint smile was mocking; his eyes were still tight.’ page 171
Oh, Henry Higgins, how I would love to unleash you on this beastly woman… she uses that absurd phrase repeatedly in the series. Tight eyes? She probably means that the muscles around his eyes were tense, or that there was tension in his expression, but her phrasing is as clumsy as a two-legged colt.

‘ “You remember?” he asked, his angel’s face grave.’ page 175
This makes it sound like he’s got a pet angel with a grave face. She should have said, ‘he asked. His angelic face was grave.’ or better yet, ‘he asked gravely.’
I hope she didn’t pay her editor much.

‘I quickly rubbed my hand across my cheek, and sure enough, traitor tears were there, betraying me.’ page 190
I’m not making this up. It IS that bad. Traitor tears betray? My I.Q. probably dropped 30 points just reading that.

‘I waited for my opportunity, impatient, unable to stop my toe from tapping.’ page 436
I don’t suppose it occurred to her to try, ‘I waited for my opportunity, impatiently tapping my toe.’

‘Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn’t find my lips.’ page 453
Where did they go, Canada?

‘I could feel the panic bubbling up in my chest.’ page 488
Bella Swan, Human Percolator! This makes me think of those old coffee adverts, I think from Maxwell House, that had that jingle then a burping/pop sound to prove that the coffee was as fresh as the first cup.

8. Twu Wuv:
We never really learn what made Edward dig Bella, or vice versa. The closest we come is when we find out Bella smells like bacon and Edward can’t read her mind. Um, Eddiekins, this is what we call a CLUE. If you could hear her mind, you’d just hear a heart monitor flat lining.
Anyway, he assumes that a lot is going on in there (*cracks another rib laughing*), and decides to devote his undead existence to her.
Our deep, intelligent, emotionally mature heroine Bella just likes that he’s hot.

9. But It Promotes Chastity!:
I hear this from every apologist for this series, and to that I say, “BOLLOCKS.”
As I said earlier: if Meyer was so big on being a modest, Mormon girl she wouldn’t be writing about Edward’s body morning, noon, and night like a sub-standard Victorian porno.
‘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.’ page 197
Now, reverse this and imagine a man saying this. Admit it, you’d call him a pervert and say he needs to get his hormones in check. The whole book continues on this way, and for the sake of your sanity I’m not going to put down every single, pseudo-smutty word. A very talented blogger actually gives a list of adjectives relating to Edward’s corpse, but I’m just not strong enough (or medicated enough) to put myself through that.
Let’s look at how Bella behaves with this bloke: she lies to her father constantly, sneaks Edward into her bedroom, sleeps “chastely” with him in her bed (because that makes it all virtuous’n’junk), is constantly man-handled by him (he never seems to let her walk anywhere… she’s pulled, tugged, yanked, carried, dragged, or pushed nearly everywhere since she meets him), and their “chastity” is imposed by HIM (Bella, you’re such a pillar of virtue!). This eliminates the tired chastity argument because it’s not from Bella’s morals that this decision is made, rather, the one with all the physical strength and dominating personality. I’d be far more impressed if Bella had similar values.
Then we get to the creepy bit… like the fact that Edward won’t let her return a kiss (his way or no way) or simple embrace. Bella has no opinion that he can’t change, and even when they’re married she has to practically beg to consummate the marriage. But, heyyyyy, it’s all good, because they wait to be married!
This ‘sex and affection is only dictated by the man’ kind of relationship is typical of the worst fundamentalist religions and is entirely twisted. What I find both funny and disgusting is that I hear women using it to justify the deranged ideas in the books and to make it jive with their faiths.
So, Jesus is cool with Edward wanting Bella to abort their baby? (see Breaking Dawn, aka Alien 5) Somehow I missed that bit in Sunday school.

10. Vampire Legend:
Now, I hear fans pitch fits and claim that we can’t criticize Meyer’s interpretation of vampires because they never existed. Cool, then can I make a hot pink killer warthog and call it a pixie?
When they get into Carlisle’s background (Edward’s vampire foster dad) he talks about how his own father was a big, bad Protestant pastor in the 1600s, who was a meanie-head and persecuted vampires. (Never trust a Protestant!) We then find out that London vampires at the time were eating humans like popcorn, and that Evil was a strong reality. Sounds to me like Carlisle’s papa had a pretty normal reaction. (trying to take out monsters who eat us, what a BIGOT!) The only issue was that Carlisle’s dad was also mistaking innocents for vampires (again, his fault was in execution of his decisions, but the decision itself to protect people from vampires was not unreasonable), but when Carlisle chases down a real one and gets bit he runs off to hide so his body won’t be burned. Again, burning the body of someone infected by vampire venom is not unreasonable. “Sucks to be you, but I don’t want ya sucking on me, Mate!”
Later, when we meet the naughty vampires (you know, the ones that are supposed to be TYPICAL), Edward has no qualms saying that he’s going to need to tear the bad guy into tiny pieces then burn them. You know, like those evil, bigoted humans in 1650. Double standards, much?

This list could go on indefinitely, but if you didn’t understand my revulsion before, you certainly do now. I have darned good reasons to hold Miss Meyer’s writing in contempt, and I do believe that anyone who holds this up as a standard for literature, relationships, or even entertainment is cracked in the head. This is just an opinion piece, and I don’t claim to be an English Major. Perhaps that’s the scariest part… if I, one of the ‘unwashed’ can tear this twaddle apart, then that’s just sad. To use a Shmeyerism*…

‘About three things I am absolutely positive.
First, these books are literary vampires.
Second, there is a part of them---
and I’m pretty sure I know how dominant that part might be---
that thirsts for your money.
And third, I am unconditionally and irrevocably disgusted by them.’