Twilight Revised

Photo by The Barefoot Believer.

This may be old news to some, although Johnny come lately as I am, I just read the newest “installment” of the Twilight series: Midnight Sun. No, it wasn’t released in stores, however, Stephenie Meyer, posted a huge portion of her Twilight’s last gleaming in answer to the “malicious” leaking of her unfinished masterpiece in rough form. It is convenient that the leaking of such work could possibly give her a huge boost in sales: new and renewed interest in her series. Akin to another Dumbledore fiasco where a writer sees wanning interest in their work and says something shocking to refurbish that reader vigor. On a side note, I could care less if Dumbledore is gay or not, it doesn’t read in the story and for a virtuoso of foreshadowing not to insert a hint of her private musings into the character and then later claim that it’s there. Well, there is a more than a bit of sensationalism either way, if it’s true, why now; if it’s not, the why is obvious.

The truth comes out and it’s hard to tell if it really is the truth or just a publicity stunt: Mackenzie claiming to have had “relations” with her father (now deceased and unable to comment) and has a new book to sell; “Danish Karen” on YouTube claiming to have a one night stand in Copenhagen and is online searching for the father of her baby, August: only it was a hoax by the country’s tourism board of all things. It is definitely difficult to sift the wheat from the chaff and know when the truth is really being put forth and when it is a outright lie to improve commerce.

I’ll take the high road with Stephenie Meyer and say she is “allegedly” telling the truth (everything is “allegedly” these days, even when you have 100 witnesses and video) that her book was leaked without her knowledge, but don’t be hurt for too long Steph. Maybe the monetary compensation will ease the pain of this vastly heinous crime. Seriously, no craftsman wants their artistry to be viewed by the masses before it’s finished. You may not empathize with this, but first impressions isn’t just a cliche, once a view is distorted a certain way, an opinion formed, it can be hard to judge that exploit without a certain amount of bias.

All that being said, I thought the rough draft you released in response to having your work stolen was extremely good. It is a fascinating concept to say the least, it has been done in movies, television, though I cannot remember reading a book twice along the same timeline from different points-of-view. Within the same book, numerous times. It was intriguing to see the entire story (up to the trip to Seattle) from another perspective. I honestly didn’t expect to be that captivated, having read her (I don’t truly think Mrs. Meyer will read this, hence the my own switch in POV) other take on the series several times, I figured the subject matter would be a little worn out, and yet, I kept reading until the last page and wished there was a little more “heroin” to sate my addiction to Twilight world she’s so adeptly created. It has a bit of genius to it, unlike a movie you can easily recreate your world, events, performances and then with the key a variegated mind brings unlock different nuances in the twin telling. Stalking Edward as he stalks Bella without apologies gave much insight and some understanding into his stalkerish ways. Although, I’ve never truly classified Edward as a stalker since the chase was mutual. Regardless the new information opens new avenues of thought concerning his actual motives and allows the audience to empathized even more with his plight.

Regarding the Twilight Series in general.. I’ve always enjoyed a good vampire story, although I am not usually on board with the hybrid versions of classic horror creatures: Zombies who can think strategically and move seemingly as fast as the speed of light (mostly known as the Rage Zombies), Aliens who practically have no weaknesses, demons without God as an adversary, Werewolves that have complete control of their facilities, Vampires who can walk in the daylight and have skin so hard a stake would never kill them. It seems in a world with varmint such as these humans would not last very long, food supplies would run out even for the ones of horror and then what.. game over (which is usually how these hybrid adaptations end). However, Stephenie Meyer deals with her mighty hodgepodge of horror in an interesting way. She adds limits to these limitless creatures and therefore makes her story more accessible to “reality”.

The only other opposition that initially curtailed my interest in these books, at first, was the emo-angstiness of the main character, even though I admittedly watched Dawson’s Creek when the whole Joey-Pacey dynamic was going on, the usual Felicity type whining of those teenage type shows wears thin very quickly, and yet, sometimes as in both shows there are characters that overcome their parameters of constant emoting and draw in the reader and or watcher with their true to life drama llamas. So Stephenie Meyer, a master of the love triangle (and is decidedly the only writer I know of to make a love triangle with only two characters, see The Host), is definitely an author I will definitely be looking for on the bookshelves, even if she declines to ever finish Midnight Sun.

Digg it.

Why Idaho Falls?

Why not. Aly and I live in the hustle and bustle of SoCal and what better place to get away than the little (OK, not so little) town of Idaho Falls. Honestly, I never considered a vacation of such ease until Aly’s good friend, Katie, alerted us to an airline’s deal of the century, tickets from Vegas to a Northwestern Utopia for thirty dollars. And on spur of moment everything clicked: the high life and the slow life all rolled into one pretty package. Dontcha ‘love it when a plan comes together.’ Looking back, it was truly worth every cent, even if we spent those cents saved on Holiday Inn Express’s (you Grammar Nazis may think that was a faux pas, but really it’s just preference) complimentary A-1 breakfast buffet.

I’ve never seen Aly so relaxed. Not to mention, she got to see her beloved cows and visit her good friend (both unique occurrences). Whilst I, master of the wilderness, fed six baby bears. That’s right, no comment necessary. I cannot hear you over the sound of my awesomeness anyways. Now, I know what you’re going to say: “POINH” (pics or it never happen, the rest of you, try to keep up), though I’ll do you one better..

Overall, the trip went without a hitch, all save the mysteriously dead battery when we got to McCarran Airport’s long term parking lot. Really, dead, sigh. Twenty-two hundred hours, a four to five hour drive home and a dead battery holding us hostage. I was about to call Verizon’s roadside assistance for reinforcements, much more useful than AAA and yet still a pain in the butt, when my wife, goddess extraordinaire and exceptionally observant woman that she is, told me she noticed a sign on the way up saying the airport provides battery jumps. Sweet. I went over where I saw an emergency box and pressed the button, hoping this official looking contraption didn’t connect me to Reno 911, and got airport dispatch. Whew. They told me I was third in line, apparently, this happens A LOT.

Consequently, we were forced to postpone our trek home and killed twenty minutes with our three irascible young cubs in the Las Vegas cold. The cold seems to be Davin’s main form of kryptonite in his superman-like zen armor. How is this kid mine? He hates the cold, though I suppose if I was that small and had zero body fat, I would too. I do recall wearing my snow jacket when it was 90 degrees out and feeling no pain when I was a young pup, maybe it’s a kid thing. Woot, I guess he’s my kid after all. And just as I got my cranky bimbo (that’s baby boy in Italian) all snuggled in with a pacifier, airport personnel came to give our car some love. Quite the service, they do flat tires as well. In a jiff, our dark angel of mercy finished her work and we were on our way home. Home sweet home.

And yet, ‘I’m [still] on vacation.’ I took one more day off, @home, with the fam to sleep off our Norman Rockwell hangover. So here I am, slumbering to midday in never never land, trying to stave off the harsh light of early mornings, driving to work in the endless traffic of the 55 fwy and all the rest of the hustle and bustle of SoCal.

All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. -Thomas E. Lawrence

That is all.