Twilight: One Of The Many Reasons I Loathe it

Okay, if you don't know me (or even if you do), you should be made aware of this fact: I hate the Twilight books so very, very much. However, I also have to make it clear that I am addicted to them. How is this possible, you ask? Oh god, it's not a pretty story, I tell you what.

This is the thing: the Twilight series is badly written, includes numerous tropes and cliches that drive me nuts, carries messages that both disturb me and irritate me, seems to value itself far more highly than many others do, and is just all around a bad-quality piece of literature. That said, I have a wonderful streak of masochism, and I'm a little obsessed with them. Maybe it makes me feel better about myself and my writing when I read them, because I may not be a published author, but you sure as hell don't need real talent these days to become one! Also, Cleolinda says it best: Twilight is a like a Twinkie. Twinkies are bad for you and very cheap, but when you want a Twinkie, you want a Twinkie. No fancy desserts or pretty cakes or anything: just pure, unadulterated processed SUGAR. So yes, I read Twilight because it is so so so so so so SO fun to mock and shriek about.

One particular thing was bugging me earlier. In Breaking Dawn, the fourth and easily one of the most unintentionally hilarious books in the series, Bella, our Mary Sue protagonist, has a baby with Edward, also known as Gary Stu. This baby, Renesmee (formed from Esme and Renee, the two respective names of the mothers of the parents, and no, I don't know what the hell seriously WTF just keep reading) is sooper-speshul and beautiful and wonderful and all that. Of COURSE she is. And even beyond all that, there is one thing that just makes me want to find Stephenie Meyer and slap her.

Renesmee has "accelerated growth."

Because this baby is a vampire/human hybrid, Meyer thinks she can use whatever cheap tricks she wants to make the story sparklier. However, it's really obvious why Renesmee grows so fast, and why Bella's pregnancy was accelerated as well, taking about two or three weeks instead of the requisite nine months. Because, for Meyer, it's much more convenient to speed up the action so that everything fits into her world of romantic garbage. You want your main character to get pregnant? Fine, great. But nine months will convolute the ROMANCE OH NOES, so let's just speed that up because it's a VAMPIRE BABY. Yes, a vaaaaaaaaampire baby. Of course, I thought the thing about vampires was that they never age, not that they age in triple-speed...but oh well. Guess I was wrong. And then when you want the adorable tyke to interact with everyone--but you know, as Mrs. Meyer with her three kids does--that eleven-day-old babies don't do many charming things other than cry, sleep, and poop, you have to find a way around it. And that way is...Vampire Baby AcceleraGrowth. Just zoom her up to about age 3, and then she'll be coherent enough to be charming and adorable and useful, instead of a lump of baby. Good idea, Meyer.

Ick. This whole series just wireds me out. I have to go and organize a book burning or something now (as a lifelong bookworm, I cannot believe I just typed those words; see what you do to me, Stephenie Meyer? SEE?).