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perpetual_motionTonight's icon is being used because I imagine someone saying it, with great anger, towards Stephanie Meyer during the writing of this literary wasteland. I'd certainly have a few words for her if I were her computer.
Tonight's drink is, again, hot tea. Because it's fuckin' cold here, and flannel pajamas only do so much. Also, it's 11:22 PM here, so we may not get all the way through chapter 7. It all depends on the amount of ire I'm in the mood to spew.
Chapter Seven is titled, "Nightmares", and I'll let you make your own joke.
I told Charlie I had a lot of homework to do, and that I didn't want anything to eat. There was a basketball game on that he was excited about, though of course I had no idea what was special about it, so he wasn't aware of anything unusual in my face or tone.
Meyer really is just working hard to hit all the "feminine" stereotypes, isn't she? Bella's bad at sports, can cook well, doesn't know cars, and has no interested in basketball. She also seems to take some sort of pride in making sure we, the readers, are aware that the only positive personality trait Bella has is that SHE CAN COOK WELL.
And is it me, or is the emphasis on that 'I' wonky?
And then Bella spends two paragraphs listening to drum-heavy rock and roll because the noise makes it hard for her to think. I've said it before; I'll say it again: Bella has never proven that she thinks AT ALL.
I opened my eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of my consciousness that I was dreaming, I recognized the green light of the forest. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks somewhere nearby. And I knew that if I found the ocean, I'd be able to see the sun.
Because looking UP is just too much damned trouble. Especially when you know you're dreaming, and can, therefore, CONTROL EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS IN THE DREAM.
"This way, Bella!" I recognized Mike's voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but I couldn't see him.
Mike's not worth Bella's time in the waking hours, but he's IN HER DREAM? OF COURSE HE IS. Pardon me, I need to headdesk.
::headdesk::
"Jacob!" I screamed. But he was gone. In his place was a large red-brown wolf with black eyes. The wolf faced away from me, pointing toward the shore, the hair on the back of his shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between his exposed fangs.
And Jacob turns into a wolf. Because, of course, all Native Americans turn into SOME KIND OF ANIMAL IN DREAMS. Actually, the more I think about the fact that Meyer set up the NATIVE AMERICANS to be the SHAPE SHIFTERS, the more insulted I am by it. Yeah, Native Americans have stories of animals changing shape, and in the hands of someone competent, I'd play along. But this is MEYER. Who wanted to make it clear that all the non-pale kids CAME FROM THE RESERVATION.
And then Edward stepped out from the trees, his skin faintly glowing, his eyes black and dangerous. He held up one hand and beckoned me to come to him. The wolf growled at my feet.
I took a step forward, toward Edward. He smiled then, and his teeth were sharp, pointed.
"Trust me," he purred.
I took another step.
Words used to describe Edward:
dangerous
glowing
sharp
pointed
Oh, yeah, I'd TOTALLY TRUST HIM. But only if I thought he was GOING TO MURDER ME.
The wolf launched himself across the space between me and the vampire, fangs aiming for the jugular.
"No!" I screamed, wrenching upright out of my bed.
This is a general nightmare snark: Why is it, in books and movies and television, that the person having the nightmare always BOLTS UPRIGHT? Me? I tend to wake up, face half-smashed in my pillow, breathing like I've run a mile and unable to move for a moment or two. There are certain cliches that could really use a kick to the head.
And then we get a paragraph and change about how uncomfortable Bella is to wake up in her clothes. And she can't go back to sleep because now she's aware of her clothes. And yet, SHE HAD NO PROBLEM FALLING ASLEEP IN THEM BEFORE.
My subconscious had dredged up exactly the images I'd been trying so desperately to avoid. I was going to have to face them now.
Five bucks says she decides that Edward being a vampire in her dream means he's one in real life. Because this is the kind of logic Meyer's been handing us all book.
I sat up, and my head spun for a minute as the blood flowed downward.
Um, what? Folks, I don't know about you, but I can usually SIT UP IN BED without my head spinning. Of course, Bella's been THINKING, so maybe that's where the head rush comes in.
I grabbed my bathroom bag.
Who the fuck has a "bathroom bag" in their own home? Bathroom bag at a dorm? Yeah. AT HOME? No. [This is the cue for you all to inform me that bathroom bags are completely normal, and I'm out-of-date.]
The shower didn't last nearly as long as I hoped it would, though. Even taking the time to blow-dry my hair, I was soon out of things to do in the bathroom.
Did the shower MAGICALLY TURN OFF or something? Bella knows she can STAY IN THE SHOWER AS LONG AS SHE WANTS, right? She's aware she's in control of when the water stops running, right?
I dressed slowly in my most comfy sweats and then made my bed — something I never did. I couldn't put it off any longer.
"most comfy"? REALLY? And I love that menial tasks like SHOWERING and BED MAKING give Bella enough intellectual stimulation that she doesn't think about THE THING THAT'S NAGGING HER. Because that's totally how a woman's mind works, right?
I hated using the Internet here. My modem was sadly outdated, my free service substandard; just dialing up took so long that I decided to go get myself a bowl of cereal while I waited.
This book was first published in 2005. My parents--who live in a town the size of Forks--HAD DSL BY 2005. But, of course, in Meyer's "stupid country folks" head, SMALL TOWNS DON'T HAVE GOOD INTERNET. BECAUSE SMALL TOWNS ARE SILLY. AND SMELL.
I ate slowly, chewing each bite with care.
And reminding herself to breathe through her nose while she chewed.
When I was done, I washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away.
YOU ARE SUCH A GOOD WOMAN BELLA.
With another sigh, I turned to my computer. Naturally, the screen was covered in pop-up ads.
THERE WERE POP-UP BLOCKERS IN 2005. And who the fuck has an ISP that, when connected, IMMEDIATELY SENDS YOU POP-UP ADS?
Eventually I made it to my favorite search engine. I shot down a few more pop-ups and then typed in one word.
Vampire.
WHAT SEARCH ENGINE HAS POP-UPS? HAS MEYER NOT BEEN ON THE INTERNET SINCE 1998?
It took an infuriatingly long time, of course.
OF COURSE IT DID. Because stupid small town folks don't have good internet. It's a law or something.
Then I found a promising site — Vampires A—Z.
I want it noted that the use of that first em dash makes it look as if it is connected to the second em dash, and that means the title of the site, if you follow basic grammar rules, is "Vampires A". You know what could have worked here? You know what SHOULD HAVE BEEN USED HERE? A COLON. ONE OF THESE:
:
And it's less keystrokes as well. That's also the first drink of the night. Took it long enough.
I waited impatiently for it to load, quickly clicking closed each ad that flashed across the screen.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THE POP-UPS?
Finally the screen was finished — simple white background with black text, academic-looking.
Things which have been described with more detail than Edward:
the beach
a tide pool
A WEBSITE
The website has two quotes at the top. One from a minister who believed in vampires and one from Rosseau. Bella believes that these quotes and the "academic-looking" set-up of the site, makes the idea of VAMPIRES a viable option.
Edward's told Bella he's bad, and rather than think he's a drug dealer, car thief, or VIOLENT OFFENDER, she's decided the most believable option is that HE'S A VAMPIRE. And she's basing this off of A DREAM AND THE STORY FROM A 15-YEAR-OLD KID.
THINK ABOUT THAT.
I read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible.
Bella, the fact that you're researching vampires means YOU ALREADY THINK IT'S PLAUSIBLE.
It seemed that most vampire myths centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children, and to give men an excuse for infidelity.
So, Bella can't LOOK AT A TIDE POOL WITHOUT FALLING IN, but she can read information on vampires and immediately understand the symbolic background of the stories? Yeah. Sure. That's ENTIRELY plausible.
And I want it noted that Meyer keeps throwing out terms for "vampire" from other languages. Just to make sure that we know she's done her homework. Good job, Meyer. Because it really fucking matters, right?
Only three entries really caught my attention: the Romanian Varacolaci, a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful, pale-skinned human, the Slovak Nelapsi, acreature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in the single hour after midnight, and one other, the Stregoni benefici.
About this last there was only one brief sentence.
Stregoni benefici: An Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.
Oooh, I get it! Meyer's telling us EXACTLY WHAT KIND OF VAMPIRE EDWARD IS WITHOUT HAVING TO EXPLAIN IT WITHIN THE CONTEXT OF A CONVERSATION. How brilliant, yeah? Rather than use Edward's vampiric nature as CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, she's making it RESEARCH.
And she's making him ONE OF THOSE GOOD VAMPIRES. You know, the ones who FIGHT EVIL VAMPIRES. That way, it won't be nearly as creepy when Edward's age gets revealed, and people realize that his wanting to bang Bella is equal to an adult wanting to bang a child. BECAUSE IT'S TOTALLY NOT LIKE THAT. BECAUSE EDWARD'S A GOOD VAMPIRE.
It was a relief, that one small entry, the one myth among hundreds that claimed the existence of good vampires.
I'm sorry; I can't hear you over the sound of the PLOT DEVICE ANVIL falling in the room. You'll have to speak up.
Overall, though, there was little that coincided with Jacob's stories or my own observations. I'd made a little catalogue in my mind as I'd read and carefully compared it with each myth. Speed, strength, beauty, pale skin, eyes that shift color; and then Jacob's criteria: blood drinkers, enemies of the werewolf, cold-skinned, and immortal. There were very few myths that matched even one factor.
Yet she still thought that the whole vampire thing WAS THE BEST EXPLANATION OF EVENTS.
Someone get the girl a tinfoil hat, yeah?
Through my irritation, I felt overwhelming embarrassment. It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me?
Oh, so many things. The biggest one probably being, YOU THINK VAMPIRES ARE A LOGICAL ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTIONS.
I decided that most of the blame belonged on the doorstep of the town of Forks — and the entire sodden Olympic Peninsula, for that matter.
Wow, from small-town bashing to REGION bashing. Bella's got quite the jumping off point, doesn't she? And a drink for that fucking em dash. THERE IS NO REASON FOR THAT EM DASH TO BE THERE. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, MEYER, USE A FUCKING COMMA.
It was overcast, but not raining yet.
Again with the YET. IT JUST WASN'T FUCKING RAINING.
There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest here, or I wouldn't risk wandering on my own like this.
Verb tense fuckery. DRINK.
My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings.
So, let me see if I get this: Bella can't serve a volleyball, hit a volleyball, catch a basketball, look into a tide pool without falling, think about Edward while trying to play basketball, and now she DOESN'T HAVE A SENSE OF DIRECTION? Would someone stamp a "DAMSAL IN DISTRESS" tag on her and shove her off a cliff? PLEASE?
The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, mostly east as far as I could tell.
WAIT. She says she has a "hopeless" sense of direction, but she THINKS she's headed east? Look, either you've got it or you don't. It can't be both. And how the fuck did she know she as going east in the first place?
[The trail] snaked around the Sitka spruces and the hemlocks, the yews and the maples. I only vaguely knew the names of the trees around me, and all I knew was due to Charlie pointing them out to me from the cruiser window in earlier days. There were many I didn't know, and others I couldn't be sure about because they were so covered in green parasites.
Things that have been described more fully than Edward:
The beach
A tide pool
A Website
The Native American kids
THIS FUCKING PIECE OF WOODS
I followed the trail as long as my anger at myself pushed me forward. As that started to ebb, I slowed.
She has to walk very carefully through a patch of woods she's traveled once before or she falls, but she can power along a trail SHE DOESN'T KNOW without a problem? Sure.
I stepped over the ferns and sat carefully, making sure my jacket was between the damp seat [of the fallen tree] and my clothes wherever they touched, and leaned my hooded head back against the living tree.
God forbid she get DAMP. She'd probably catch the croup and die dramatically.
This was the wrong place to have come. I should have known, but where else was there to go?
Oh, I dunno. INTO TOWN MAYBE.
The birds were quiet, too, the drops increasing in frequency, so it must be raining above.
This reads like the birds are dropping something from above, not that it's raining. Oh, if only it were the birds. The laughs we'd have, yeah? And drink for the bad sentence.
Here in the trees it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed me indoors. Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clear-cut bedroom.
Nothing had changed in the forest? Bella's sitting on a RECENTLY FALLEN TREE. I think that counts as CHANGE.
I had to decide if it was possible that what Jacob had said about the Cullens could be true.
Because in Bella's head, vampires are entirely logical because a 15-year-old boy told her a story 1000 years old. So, in short, Jacob--for whom the story is akin to a religious tale--doesn't buy it. BUT BELLA DOES. I'm not sure what that says about Meyer, other than the fact that she's an idiot.
Immediately my mind responded with a resounding negative. It was silly and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions. But what, then? I asked myself. There was no rational explanation for how I was alive at this moment.
There's no rational explanation why anyone's bought into this shit, but I'm not immediately jumping to the MOST RIDICULOUS CONCLUSION.
I listed again in my head the things I'd observed myself: the impossible speed and strength, the eye color shifting from black to gold and back again, the inhuman beauty, the pale, frigid skin. And more — small things
that registered slowly — how they never seemed to eat, the disturbing grace with which they moved. And the way he sometimes spoke, with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the style of a turn-of-the-century novel than that of a twenty-first-century classroom.
First, Bella's never actually WITNESSED Edward's speed. She THINKS he was standing far away from her when the van came at her. That's not actual proof that Edward actually WAS far away. Second, "inhuman beauty"? REALLY? Just...god. Take a drink for that. Because it's FUCKING AWFUL. Third, Edward DOES NOT talk like a turn-of-the-century novel. Edward talks like every EGOTISTICAL DOUCHE that I knew in high school.
He had told me he was the villain, dangerous…
BUT SHE WANTS TO HUMP HIM ANYWAY. And a drink for that ellipses. What the fuck does Meyer have against periods? If she can turn them into em dashes or ellipses she thinks it means the same thing. IT DOESN'T.
Could the Cullens be vampires?
YES. BECAUSE THAT'S COMPLETELY LOGICAL.
Well, they were something.
Yes. Good looking. Personality voids. VIOLENT.
Something outside the possibility of rational justification was taking place in front of my incredulous eyes.
NO IT'S NOT. NOTHING OUTSIDE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF RATIONALITY IS TAKING PLACE.
Edward Cullen was not… human. He was something more.
WHY THE ELLIPSES? [Drink]
And, more importantly, let me give you Bella's lists of reasons why she thinks Edward's a vampire:
She THOUGHT he was far away when the van came at her.
He skipped the blood typing day in Biology class.
HE'S PRETTY.
His skin is COLD.
I regularly run 97.6 as my body temperature. This means my hands and feet get cold easily. Does this make me a vampire? NO. It makes me someone with LOW BODY TEMPERATURE. WHICH IS A LOGICAL IDEA THAT DOES NOT LEAD TO VAMPIRES.
So then — maybe. That would have to be my answer for now.
And then the most important question of all. What was I going to do if it was true?
Oh, I dunno. Personally, I'd RUN IN THE OTHER FUCKING DIRECTION BECAUSE HE'S A VAMPIRE. But Bella will probably salivate, hump his leg, and think it's TWUE WUV when he breaks her arm with his inhuman strength.
Okay, I'm done for the night. The sheer amount of idiocy Bella is spewing in this chapter makes my head hurt. Her definition of "logic" and mine are very, very different. Probably because I know how a dictionary works.
Tonight's drink is, again, hot tea. Because it's fuckin' cold here, and flannel pajamas only do so much. Also, it's 11:22 PM here, so we may not get all the way through chapter 7. It all depends on the amount of ire I'm in the mood to spew.
Chapter Seven is titled, "Nightmares", and I'll let you make your own joke.
I told Charlie I had a lot of homework to do, and that I didn't want anything to eat. There was a basketball game on that he was excited about, though of course I had no idea what was special about it, so he wasn't aware of anything unusual in my face or tone.
Meyer really is just working hard to hit all the "feminine" stereotypes, isn't she? Bella's bad at sports, can cook well, doesn't know cars, and has no interested in basketball. She also seems to take some sort of pride in making sure we, the readers, are aware that the only positive personality trait Bella has is that SHE CAN COOK WELL.
And is it me, or is the emphasis on that 'I' wonky?
And then Bella spends two paragraphs listening to drum-heavy rock and roll because the noise makes it hard for her to think. I've said it before; I'll say it again: Bella has never proven that she thinks AT ALL.
I opened my eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of my consciousness that I was dreaming, I recognized the green light of the forest. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks somewhere nearby. And I knew that if I found the ocean, I'd be able to see the sun.
Because looking UP is just too much damned trouble. Especially when you know you're dreaming, and can, therefore, CONTROL EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS IN THE DREAM.
"This way, Bella!" I recognized Mike's voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but I couldn't see him.
Mike's not worth Bella's time in the waking hours, but he's IN HER DREAM? OF COURSE HE IS. Pardon me, I need to headdesk.
::headdesk::
"Jacob!" I screamed. But he was gone. In his place was a large red-brown wolf with black eyes. The wolf faced away from me, pointing toward the shore, the hair on the back of his shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between his exposed fangs.
And Jacob turns into a wolf. Because, of course, all Native Americans turn into SOME KIND OF ANIMAL IN DREAMS. Actually, the more I think about the fact that Meyer set up the NATIVE AMERICANS to be the SHAPE SHIFTERS, the more insulted I am by it. Yeah, Native Americans have stories of animals changing shape, and in the hands of someone competent, I'd play along. But this is MEYER. Who wanted to make it clear that all the non-pale kids CAME FROM THE RESERVATION.
And then Edward stepped out from the trees, his skin faintly glowing, his eyes black and dangerous. He held up one hand and beckoned me to come to him. The wolf growled at my feet.
I took a step forward, toward Edward. He smiled then, and his teeth were sharp, pointed.
"Trust me," he purred.
I took another step.
Words used to describe Edward:
dangerous
glowing
sharp
pointed
Oh, yeah, I'd TOTALLY TRUST HIM. But only if I thought he was GOING TO MURDER ME.
The wolf launched himself across the space between me and the vampire, fangs aiming for the jugular.
"No!" I screamed, wrenching upright out of my bed.
This is a general nightmare snark: Why is it, in books and movies and television, that the person having the nightmare always BOLTS UPRIGHT? Me? I tend to wake up, face half-smashed in my pillow, breathing like I've run a mile and unable to move for a moment or two. There are certain cliches that could really use a kick to the head.
And then we get a paragraph and change about how uncomfortable Bella is to wake up in her clothes. And she can't go back to sleep because now she's aware of her clothes. And yet, SHE HAD NO PROBLEM FALLING ASLEEP IN THEM BEFORE.
My subconscious had dredged up exactly the images I'd been trying so desperately to avoid. I was going to have to face them now.
Five bucks says she decides that Edward being a vampire in her dream means he's one in real life. Because this is the kind of logic Meyer's been handing us all book.
I sat up, and my head spun for a minute as the blood flowed downward.
Um, what? Folks, I don't know about you, but I can usually SIT UP IN BED without my head spinning. Of course, Bella's been THINKING, so maybe that's where the head rush comes in.
I grabbed my bathroom bag.
Who the fuck has a "bathroom bag" in their own home? Bathroom bag at a dorm? Yeah. AT HOME? No. [This is the cue for you all to inform me that bathroom bags are completely normal, and I'm out-of-date.]
The shower didn't last nearly as long as I hoped it would, though. Even taking the time to blow-dry my hair, I was soon out of things to do in the bathroom.
Did the shower MAGICALLY TURN OFF or something? Bella knows she can STAY IN THE SHOWER AS LONG AS SHE WANTS, right? She's aware she's in control of when the water stops running, right?
I dressed slowly in my most comfy sweats and then made my bed — something I never did. I couldn't put it off any longer.
"most comfy"? REALLY? And I love that menial tasks like SHOWERING and BED MAKING give Bella enough intellectual stimulation that she doesn't think about THE THING THAT'S NAGGING HER. Because that's totally how a woman's mind works, right?
I hated using the Internet here. My modem was sadly outdated, my free service substandard; just dialing up took so long that I decided to go get myself a bowl of cereal while I waited.
This book was first published in 2005. My parents--who live in a town the size of Forks--HAD DSL BY 2005. But, of course, in Meyer's "stupid country folks" head, SMALL TOWNS DON'T HAVE GOOD INTERNET. BECAUSE SMALL TOWNS ARE SILLY. AND SMELL.
I ate slowly, chewing each bite with care.
And reminding herself to breathe through her nose while she chewed.
When I was done, I washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away.
YOU ARE SUCH A GOOD WOMAN BELLA.
With another sigh, I turned to my computer. Naturally, the screen was covered in pop-up ads.
THERE WERE POP-UP BLOCKERS IN 2005. And who the fuck has an ISP that, when connected, IMMEDIATELY SENDS YOU POP-UP ADS?
Eventually I made it to my favorite search engine. I shot down a few more pop-ups and then typed in one word.
Vampire.
WHAT SEARCH ENGINE HAS POP-UPS? HAS MEYER NOT BEEN ON THE INTERNET SINCE 1998?
It took an infuriatingly long time, of course.
OF COURSE IT DID. Because stupid small town folks don't have good internet. It's a law or something.
Then I found a promising site — Vampires A—Z.
I want it noted that the use of that first em dash makes it look as if it is connected to the second em dash, and that means the title of the site, if you follow basic grammar rules, is "Vampires A". You know what could have worked here? You know what SHOULD HAVE BEEN USED HERE? A COLON. ONE OF THESE:
:
And it's less keystrokes as well. That's also the first drink of the night. Took it long enough.
I waited impatiently for it to load, quickly clicking closed each ad that flashed across the screen.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THE POP-UPS?
Finally the screen was finished — simple white background with black text, academic-looking.
Things which have been described with more detail than Edward:
the beach
a tide pool
A WEBSITE
The website has two quotes at the top. One from a minister who believed in vampires and one from Rosseau. Bella believes that these quotes and the "academic-looking" set-up of the site, makes the idea of VAMPIRES a viable option.
Edward's told Bella he's bad, and rather than think he's a drug dealer, car thief, or VIOLENT OFFENDER, she's decided the most believable option is that HE'S A VAMPIRE. And she's basing this off of A DREAM AND THE STORY FROM A 15-YEAR-OLD KID.
THINK ABOUT THAT.
I read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible.
Bella, the fact that you're researching vampires means YOU ALREADY THINK IT'S PLAUSIBLE.
It seemed that most vampire myths centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children, and to give men an excuse for infidelity.
So, Bella can't LOOK AT A TIDE POOL WITHOUT FALLING IN, but she can read information on vampires and immediately understand the symbolic background of the stories? Yeah. Sure. That's ENTIRELY plausible.
And I want it noted that Meyer keeps throwing out terms for "vampire" from other languages. Just to make sure that we know she's done her homework. Good job, Meyer. Because it really fucking matters, right?
Only three entries really caught my attention: the Romanian Varacolaci, a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful, pale-skinned human, the Slovak Nelapsi, acreature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in the single hour after midnight, and one other, the Stregoni benefici.
About this last there was only one brief sentence.
Stregoni benefici: An Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.
Oooh, I get it! Meyer's telling us EXACTLY WHAT KIND OF VAMPIRE EDWARD IS WITHOUT HAVING TO EXPLAIN IT WITHIN THE CONTEXT OF A CONVERSATION. How brilliant, yeah? Rather than use Edward's vampiric nature as CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, she's making it RESEARCH.
And she's making him ONE OF THOSE GOOD VAMPIRES. You know, the ones who FIGHT EVIL VAMPIRES. That way, it won't be nearly as creepy when Edward's age gets revealed, and people realize that his wanting to bang Bella is equal to an adult wanting to bang a child. BECAUSE IT'S TOTALLY NOT LIKE THAT. BECAUSE EDWARD'S A GOOD VAMPIRE.
It was a relief, that one small entry, the one myth among hundreds that claimed the existence of good vampires.
I'm sorry; I can't hear you over the sound of the PLOT DEVICE ANVIL falling in the room. You'll have to speak up.
Overall, though, there was little that coincided with Jacob's stories or my own observations. I'd made a little catalogue in my mind as I'd read and carefully compared it with each myth. Speed, strength, beauty, pale skin, eyes that shift color; and then Jacob's criteria: blood drinkers, enemies of the werewolf, cold-skinned, and immortal. There were very few myths that matched even one factor.
Yet she still thought that the whole vampire thing WAS THE BEST EXPLANATION OF EVENTS.
Someone get the girl a tinfoil hat, yeah?
Through my irritation, I felt overwhelming embarrassment. It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me?
Oh, so many things. The biggest one probably being, YOU THINK VAMPIRES ARE A LOGICAL ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTIONS.
I decided that most of the blame belonged on the doorstep of the town of Forks — and the entire sodden Olympic Peninsula, for that matter.
Wow, from small-town bashing to REGION bashing. Bella's got quite the jumping off point, doesn't she? And a drink for that fucking em dash. THERE IS NO REASON FOR THAT EM DASH TO BE THERE. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, MEYER, USE A FUCKING COMMA.
It was overcast, but not raining yet.
Again with the YET. IT JUST WASN'T FUCKING RAINING.
There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest here, or I wouldn't risk wandering on my own like this.
Verb tense fuckery. DRINK.
My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings.
So, let me see if I get this: Bella can't serve a volleyball, hit a volleyball, catch a basketball, look into a tide pool without falling, think about Edward while trying to play basketball, and now she DOESN'T HAVE A SENSE OF DIRECTION? Would someone stamp a "DAMSAL IN DISTRESS" tag on her and shove her off a cliff? PLEASE?
The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, mostly east as far as I could tell.
WAIT. She says she has a "hopeless" sense of direction, but she THINKS she's headed east? Look, either you've got it or you don't. It can't be both. And how the fuck did she know she as going east in the first place?
[The trail] snaked around the Sitka spruces and the hemlocks, the yews and the maples. I only vaguely knew the names of the trees around me, and all I knew was due to Charlie pointing them out to me from the cruiser window in earlier days. There were many I didn't know, and others I couldn't be sure about because they were so covered in green parasites.
Things that have been described more fully than Edward:
The beach
A tide pool
A Website
The Native American kids
THIS FUCKING PIECE OF WOODS
I followed the trail as long as my anger at myself pushed me forward. As that started to ebb, I slowed.
She has to walk very carefully through a patch of woods she's traveled once before or she falls, but she can power along a trail SHE DOESN'T KNOW without a problem? Sure.
I stepped over the ferns and sat carefully, making sure my jacket was between the damp seat [of the fallen tree] and my clothes wherever they touched, and leaned my hooded head back against the living tree.
God forbid she get DAMP. She'd probably catch the croup and die dramatically.
This was the wrong place to have come. I should have known, but where else was there to go?
Oh, I dunno. INTO TOWN MAYBE.
The birds were quiet, too, the drops increasing in frequency, so it must be raining above.
This reads like the birds are dropping something from above, not that it's raining. Oh, if only it were the birds. The laughs we'd have, yeah? And drink for the bad sentence.
Here in the trees it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed me indoors. Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clear-cut bedroom.
Nothing had changed in the forest? Bella's sitting on a RECENTLY FALLEN TREE. I think that counts as CHANGE.
I had to decide if it was possible that what Jacob had said about the Cullens could be true.
Because in Bella's head, vampires are entirely logical because a 15-year-old boy told her a story 1000 years old. So, in short, Jacob--for whom the story is akin to a religious tale--doesn't buy it. BUT BELLA DOES. I'm not sure what that says about Meyer, other than the fact that she's an idiot.
Immediately my mind responded with a resounding negative. It was silly and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions. But what, then? I asked myself. There was no rational explanation for how I was alive at this moment.
There's no rational explanation why anyone's bought into this shit, but I'm not immediately jumping to the MOST RIDICULOUS CONCLUSION.
I listed again in my head the things I'd observed myself: the impossible speed and strength, the eye color shifting from black to gold and back again, the inhuman beauty, the pale, frigid skin. And more — small things
that registered slowly — how they never seemed to eat, the disturbing grace with which they moved. And the way he sometimes spoke, with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the style of a turn-of-the-century novel than that of a twenty-first-century classroom.
First, Bella's never actually WITNESSED Edward's speed. She THINKS he was standing far away from her when the van came at her. That's not actual proof that Edward actually WAS far away. Second, "inhuman beauty"? REALLY? Just...god. Take a drink for that. Because it's FUCKING AWFUL. Third, Edward DOES NOT talk like a turn-of-the-century novel. Edward talks like every EGOTISTICAL DOUCHE that I knew in high school.
He had told me he was the villain, dangerous…
BUT SHE WANTS TO HUMP HIM ANYWAY. And a drink for that ellipses. What the fuck does Meyer have against periods? If she can turn them into em dashes or ellipses she thinks it means the same thing. IT DOESN'T.
Could the Cullens be vampires?
YES. BECAUSE THAT'S COMPLETELY LOGICAL.
Well, they were something.
Yes. Good looking. Personality voids. VIOLENT.
Something outside the possibility of rational justification was taking place in front of my incredulous eyes.
NO IT'S NOT. NOTHING OUTSIDE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF RATIONALITY IS TAKING PLACE.
Edward Cullen was not… human. He was something more.
WHY THE ELLIPSES? [Drink]
And, more importantly, let me give you Bella's lists of reasons why she thinks Edward's a vampire:
She THOUGHT he was far away when the van came at her.
He skipped the blood typing day in Biology class.
HE'S PRETTY.
His skin is COLD.
I regularly run 97.6 as my body temperature. This means my hands and feet get cold easily. Does this make me a vampire? NO. It makes me someone with LOW BODY TEMPERATURE. WHICH IS A LOGICAL IDEA THAT DOES NOT LEAD TO VAMPIRES.
So then — maybe. That would have to be my answer for now.
And then the most important question of all. What was I going to do if it was true?
Oh, I dunno. Personally, I'd RUN IN THE OTHER FUCKING DIRECTION BECAUSE HE'S A VAMPIRE. But Bella will probably salivate, hump his leg, and think it's TWUE WUV when he breaks her arm with his inhuman strength.
Okay, I'm done for the night. The sheer amount of idiocy Bella is spewing in this chapter makes my head hurt. Her definition of "logic" and mine are very, very different. Probably because I know how a dictionary works.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2009-02-17 07:09 am (UTC)XD XD XD
"Things that have been described more fully than Edward:"
Um ... everything, because Meyer never got around to describing Edward?
::snicker::
This thing sounds like a draft, not a finished product. I mean, I get these sorts of continuity errors (like Bella's sense of balance, or lack thereof) when I first write something out. BUT THEN I FIX THEM. (Personally, I liked your suggestion that the editor just got raging drunk and tossed darts to figure out what to fix.)
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on 2009-02-17 07:13 am (UTC)There's a part of me--the editor-in-training part--that wants to really dig into the lack of editing on this book and make a nasty call to the publishing company. But there's another part of me--the part whose head hurts from reading this crap--that understands that only so much can be done when it's the equivalent to vomit on the page. It's somewhat readable. I'd hate to see what the first draft was like.
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on 2009-02-17 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-02-17 07:44 am (UTC)Yes, I totally made that word up. No, I'm not going to apologize. :D
But! Bella didn't. She power-walked into the woods, sat on a wet tree, and thought.
Needless to say, this scene was definitely different in the movie.
I will, however, admit that I'm totally guilty of the bolt-upright cliche. Mostly because that's how I want to react to a nightmare? Most of the time, I end up waking laying down, and wanting to move.
As for the Internet/DSL thing, I can understand the crap modem, because there's parts of Savannah that don't have it? Granted, the slew of pop-ads ("ATTAAAAAAACK OF THE KILLER POP-UP AAAAAAAAAADS!") is really strange, but maybe that's Meyer making a point about something?
The bathroom bag thing actually threw me, as I've never had one? Then again, I've never left home, so that's probably why. Maybe the fact that Bella hasn't put her stuff in the bathroom is supposed to be a Symbolic of Bella Not Feeling at Home in Forks? Probably not intentional, but it's a nice detail? Sort of?
***
"Okay," Charlie said out loud, looking at the trees surrounding them. "I give up. What're we doing here?"
Carlisle smiled, his dark green flannel shirt causing his pale skin to stand out against the browns and greens of the surrounding woods. "I want to show you something."
Charlie frowned, but when Carlisle motioned for him to follow, he did so. He hadn't thought they were going to go hiking -- the last couple of times they'd met, the only physical exertion that had happened had involved a bed. But, Charlie had to admit, it was a nice change of pace.
They continued on through the woods, veering off the beaten path fairly early on, trudging onto trails that the forest had begun reclaiming. Charlie could feel his legs start to burn with exertion, and while Carlisle had kept the pace brisk, Charlie wasn't panting from the exercise. He kept in shape, but this kind of trek wasn't something he did on a regular basis.
Charlie glanced at his watch, and noticed that wherever they'd been going in the woods, they'd been at it for two hours straight, and Carlisle wasn't showing any signs of slowing down.
"Hey, Carlisle," Charlie called. "This thing going to be much further?"
Carlisle paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Only a little bit. Do you need to rest?"
"Yeah," Charlie admitted, narrowing his eyes at Carlisle as he stopped and leaned against one of the tall trees close by. "Don't you?"
Carlisle stopped as well, frowning for a moment, but finally, he shook his head. "No." He looked like he was going to say something, but shook his head again. "I... will explain why when we reach it."
Charlie frowned. "You haven't found the Fountain of Youth, have you?"
Carlisle blinked, and then laughed out loud. "No, or else there would be much younger people in the world."
"You're too nice for your own good sometimes, Cullen," Charlie grunted, smiling a little. For as long as he'd known Carlisle, the man had been kind and helpful, almost to a fault.
"Am I?" Carlisle asked, looking genuinely curious. "I thought I wasn't being nice enough."
Charlie snorted. "There's a lot of people who can take advantage of your kindness."
"Is it taking advantage of my kindness if I'm fully aware of what they're going to do?" Carlisle asked. When Charlie frowned at him, Carlisle smiled. "I've witnessed much in my time, Sheriff. I guess you could say it's given me a different perspective on things."
no subject
on 2009-02-17 08:03 am (UTC)I feel like, in terms of how Meyer is writing Forks, she's trying to make it as awful-sounding as possible to her audience . In doing so, she's also taking quite a bit of time to beat up small towns in general, and I just don't get it.
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on 2009-02-17 08:38 am (UTC)... WHY AM I READING MIDNIGHT SUN. WHY.
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on 2009-02-17 05:58 pm (UTC)STOP THAT RIGHT NOW.
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on 2009-02-17 06:12 pm (UTC)And! Considering the kerfuffle of someone leaking Midnight Sun during the writing process, Meyer posted it to her website so that she could allow people to read what she'd written, but at the same time, allow them to remain honest?
http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/pdf/midnightsun_partial_draft4.pdf
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on 2009-02-17 06:25 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-02-17 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-02-17 06:41 pm (UTC)Look, I don't care if you're a "vampire" or not. There is no way that WANTING TO MURDER A CLASSROOM FULL OF PEOPLE is healthy. EVER.
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on 2009-02-17 07:02 pm (UTC)... Okay, how bad is it that I feel worried about quoting a large block of text from her book? *facepalm*
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on 2009-02-17 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-02-17 07:14 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-02-17 08:20 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-02-17 06:09 pm (UTC)I am loving your comments. Glad someone has the ability to be rational. Because, really? I'm just up to my eyes in literary rage.
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on 2009-02-17 06:13 pm (UTC)(I'd rather have a pair of pedal-pushers that didn't make me feel like a torso on toothpicks, though.)
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on 2009-02-17 06:28 pm (UTC)(You may have to go with a very snug pair of capris. My calves look very disproportional if my capris aren't very snug.)
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on 2009-02-17 09:22 am (UTC)http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/twilight_faq.html#pretty
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on 2009-02-17 06:15 pm (UTC)I'm all for writers using personal experience to help along a story, but there's "helping" and there's "Mary Sue-ing".
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on 2009-02-17 06:32 pm (UTC)Um, not if it stretches the bounds of believability. Yes, there's such a thing as suspension of disbelief, but when you build a bridge out of that suspension, and the bridge is over the river known as Denial, you're having a bit of a problem.
...
That sounded funnier in my head? And more coherent? *sigh*
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on 2009-02-17 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-02-17 06:52 pm (UTC)The video clips of you! *waves hi at person-you*