Team Edward or Team Jacob? How can anyone be on either team? Even Bella herself is incapable of being mutually exclusive - and her character lives it all firsthand. How can a fan, experiencing this phenomenon vicariously, ever be able to claim to be a member of Team Edward or Team Jacob? That's like asking people if they are Team Vanilla or Team Chocolate, or Team Hot Dog versus Team Hamburger, or Team Pepsi versus Team Coke.
I am the kind of person who orders a salad at Burger King and eats raw beef but gags at the thought of eating sushi. How can I possibly be expected to choose a side? Especially when I am fascinated with Gil Birmingham (Billy Black) and Billy Burke (Chief Swan), and get goosebumps watching Kellan Lutz (Emmett), Jackson Rathbone (Jasper), Charlie Bewley (Demitri), Michael Welch (Mike Newton), and Chaske Spencer (Sam).
The irony is that even in a fictional world, we seem incapable of deciding what (or whom) it is we want. So I guess it is time to go to sleep to let my dream-self decide for me.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Fascination with Celebrities
I love getting things for free. Well, except for advice. When it comes to people telling me how to live my life, my ears are closed. Even when I know they are right.
Case in point. I am fat. I know I am fat - there isn't any way to hide the flab taking over my body. I know I need to exercise. As I sit here using the lap top on the couch in front of the TV, I know I should be out walking. In my heart I know this. When I grabbed that extra piece of chicken, I knew I didn't need it. Yet, I ate it. And now I sit here with my disgusting lack of self control eclipsed only by the growing girth that is my body. (sigh)
About a week ago, I replied (in the Twitter-universe) to something an author posted. I mentioned that I am the type of person who can't go into a gym until I lose weight. Though I was trying to be funny, I meant every word. I don't want to be the fat chick everyone else looks at and says, "Well, at least I'm not that big."
So, my sarcastic quip earned a reply. A celebrity actually replies to me, and she tells me basically that I am an idiot and I need to get out there and work on the tonage that is my figure.
Here is the worst part. I listened.
She simply reaffirmed what I already knew. Yet, I listened. Why is that? Why is it that her words seem to make an impact? She is an author. I am a reader. What makes her opinion so noteworthy? What is it about that celebrity status that has people listen?
A few months ago I was in Charlotte at the official Twilight Convention and Charlie Bewley made a comment, "Age is just a number." (My first thought was, "Well, so is weight, but you don't hear me spouting that slogan.") - but then I got to thinking about age and how much emphasis we place on it. Why is it that it took an actor to say it for me to start thinking about it? For goodness sakes, he plays an immortal - someone for whom age is irrelevant, and here I am listening to what he says.
What is it about the celebrity status that makes people listen (and even act) on what they are saying? Why do celebrities have such an impact on us? I guess when I finally publish my books and then someday become a celebrity, I can start listening to my own advice.
Case in point. I am fat. I know I am fat - there isn't any way to hide the flab taking over my body. I know I need to exercise. As I sit here using the lap top on the couch in front of the TV, I know I should be out walking. In my heart I know this. When I grabbed that extra piece of chicken, I knew I didn't need it. Yet, I ate it. And now I sit here with my disgusting lack of self control eclipsed only by the growing girth that is my body. (sigh)
About a week ago, I replied (in the Twitter-universe) to something an author posted. I mentioned that I am the type of person who can't go into a gym until I lose weight. Though I was trying to be funny, I meant every word. I don't want to be the fat chick everyone else looks at and says, "Well, at least I'm not that big."
So, my sarcastic quip earned a reply. A celebrity actually replies to me, and she tells me basically that I am an idiot and I need to get out there and work on the tonage that is my figure.
Here is the worst part. I listened.
She simply reaffirmed what I already knew. Yet, I listened. Why is that? Why is it that her words seem to make an impact? She is an author. I am a reader. What makes her opinion so noteworthy? What is it about that celebrity status that has people listen?
A few months ago I was in Charlotte at the official Twilight Convention and Charlie Bewley made a comment, "Age is just a number." (My first thought was, "Well, so is weight, but you don't hear me spouting that slogan.") - but then I got to thinking about age and how much emphasis we place on it. Why is it that it took an actor to say it for me to start thinking about it? For goodness sakes, he plays an immortal - someone for whom age is irrelevant, and here I am listening to what he says.
What is it about the celebrity status that makes people listen (and even act) on what they are saying? Why do celebrities have such an impact on us? I guess when I finally publish my books and then someday become a celebrity, I can start listening to my own advice.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
First Blog (I know, what an original title, right?)
My first blog should be memorable; I mean first impressions count. A lot. For example, I admit to judging books by their covers. Often, I've been in line at Books-a-Million or Barnes and Noble with books in tow and not a clue about their plots. Cover art is such an underrated and often underestimated factor in a book's success.
Take Shiver (by Maggie Stiefvater) for instance. LOVE the cover. It grabbed my attention and went in my over-filled basket before I even glanced at the plot summary. After all, if the publisher puts this kind of attention to the cover, it HAS to be a good novel, right? My niece noticed it in my precariously balanced stack of books and began reading the book before I could even make it to the register. She continued to read it on the hour ride home and begrudgingly got out of the car to finish it at home.
A few years ago one of my students (who knows how much I appreciate effective design) asked me about the meaning and possible symbolism for the cover of a book she was reading. It was Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. That simple cover art question made a huge impact on me. I started a Twilight club in school which includes a book club for other must-reads. My 8th grade language arts classroom library is missing half its books (literally-I only have about 500 books on my shelves now) because students have grabbed them for summer reading. The cover art for The House of Night novels by P.C. and Kristin Cast drew (pun intended) so many of my student readers.
If I like a plot (or someone recommends a book) and I don't like the cover, reading it feels like doing homework. If it is a hardback, I simply remove the paper sleeve. Paperbacks are more challenging. For example, I despise the covers for the Sookie Stackhouse novels (my niece has been telling me to read them, but the cartoonish drawings on the covers kept me from the series). I ended up buying the first one (new cover, thanks to an HBO series based on the books) and got hooked with the plot. Then I had to break down and buy the ugly books. All of them.
So now, my dirty little secret is out. I am a biased bibliophile. If I ever get the guts to submit my novels (and get lucky enough to be published) I hope the covers are appealing. I'd hate to have to display my own books so that only the spine shows.
Take Shiver (by Maggie Stiefvater) for instance. LOVE the cover. It grabbed my attention and went in my over-filled basket before I even glanced at the plot summary. After all, if the publisher puts this kind of attention to the cover, it HAS to be a good novel, right? My niece noticed it in my precariously balanced stack of books and began reading the book before I could even make it to the register. She continued to read it on the hour ride home and begrudgingly got out of the car to finish it at home.
A few years ago one of my students (who knows how much I appreciate effective design) asked me about the meaning and possible symbolism for the cover of a book she was reading. It was Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. That simple cover art question made a huge impact on me. I started a Twilight club in school which includes a book club for other must-reads. My 8th grade language arts classroom library is missing half its books (literally-I only have about 500 books on my shelves now) because students have grabbed them for summer reading. The cover art for The House of Night novels by P.C. and Kristin Cast drew (pun intended) so many of my student readers.
If I like a plot (or someone recommends a book) and I don't like the cover, reading it feels like doing homework. If it is a hardback, I simply remove the paper sleeve. Paperbacks are more challenging. For example, I despise the covers for the Sookie Stackhouse novels (my niece has been telling me to read them, but the cartoonish drawings on the covers kept me from the series). I ended up buying the first one (new cover, thanks to an HBO series based on the books) and got hooked with the plot. Then I had to break down and buy the ugly books. All of them.
So now, my dirty little secret is out. I am a biased bibliophile. If I ever get the guts to submit my novels (and get lucky enough to be published) I hope the covers are appealing. I'd hate to have to display my own books so that only the spine shows.
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