Twilight by Stephenie Meyer

[Usual review disclaimer, plus spoiler alert, plus I'm tired alert and may edit this for clarity tomorrow]

The same impulse that led to me to read The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown) led me to read Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. Commercially popular, the subject of interesting commentary, and the object of frightening levels of obsession in Middle Niece, I gave it a go.

In some ways it's much much better than The Da Vinci Code: it's far more readable prose, and the initial chunk of narrative is hardly annoying at all.

In many ways it's much much worse, and frankly dangerous for impressionable minds who seem to find it the height of romance. I'm going to have to have a Little Chat with my niece to check on the lessons I fear she might have learned from this thing.

( It's all about sex, isn't it? )

H1N1? Second door on the left

Just back from a visit to the GP. Should have been a quick visit, but there is no such thing. Didn't feel like reading--with the notable exception of the upside-down magazine headlines (morbidly fascinating but probably covered in pathogens)--so the best entertainment came from the group of Swine Flu patients.

( Run! RUN! )

That's it, no more Twilight

My Twilight days are over. Review (now with added stalking thanks to purrdence) over here.

I have GOT to read something decent soon. With spaceships. And guns. Lots of guns. And characters, please, characters *sob*.

Banter banter banter

"What's this?"
"Joan of Arc"
"'I hear voices'"
"That's pretty hard; it's a silent film."