Twilight...really?

I love to read. That's actually an understatement. I have a passion for the written word. I read faster than most people run. It drives my husband a little nuts, I zoom through books at light speed. I don't really have a preference, I read all kinds of things. I do like classics though. And I like books that make you think. I like books that grab you from the first page and pull you into another universe, where the world could fall down around you and you wouldn't notice. If an author can draw my attention away from two very loud children, and all the myriad things around the house that I should be doing, that's good writing.

I'm not one to jump on a literary bandwagon. I prefer to choose my own interests, rather than have every single person on the planet tell me I need to read something. Harry Potter holds no sway over me. I could care less when the new one comes out, and you'll never find me outside Barnes and Noble just before midnight, counting down the seconds until I can purchase the next fix.

When Twilight came out, I watched as America plunged over the edge like a herd of lemmings. I scoffed, said to myself, here we go again, and steadfastly refused to be drawn in. A lot of my friends considered this odd, taking into account my strange fascination with vampire lore. They figured I'd be the first one to jump head first into the Twilight World. And maybe I would have, if it hadn't been so...BIG. The hype just turned me off.

A couple of months ago I gave in and watched the movie. I was pleasantly surprised, I actually thought it was good. Not fantastic, but much better than I was expecting. I gave some thought to reading the book, but eventually forgot about it. Then, I came into possession of the first novel in the series through Swaptree.com. I figured it was free, so what the heck, if it's terrible I'll just stop reading it. So I stuck it on the shelf and said, I'll get to it later, when I'm desperate for something to read.

This past Friday evening, I was desperate for something to read. I'd read through everything else on the shelf, and my book club hasn't chosen a new book yet. I saw Twilight sitting there patiently and, rolling my eyes, I picked it up. I settled on the couch with my favorite blanket, tuned out the annoying sounds of Friday Night Smackdown that were coming from the TV, and opened to the first page.

At that point, I fell into the world of Stephenie Meyer. To say that I read Twilight is not entirely accurate. I inhaled it. I was literally mesmerized. I felt what Bella felt, I saw Edward's golden eyes, I was really and truly fascinated. I finished Twilight the next day. It's 500 pages. Today is Sunday and I'm almost done with book two. I feel like I can't read it fast enough, yet at the same time I want to slow down, draw it out so it doesn't end too quickly.

At first I was kind of embarrassed that I was actually reading Twilight, after all of my denial and scorn. Now I don't even care. I love a good book, and I'll be searching for book three tomorrow, I have no doubt. While I don't plan on taking the Facebook quiz to find out which Twilight character I am, I will admit that I am snared - hook, line and sinker.

But...I'm still not going to read Harry Potter.