Repost: In Defense of Twilight even though I don't like it much.

I feel the urge to repost some of my favorite articles here from my blog. Here we go with my series on Twilight by Stephanie Meyers.
******



I have a lot of legitimate criticisms of Twilight. I read the first book, and never even tried any of the sequels. I have a strong disdain for passive heroines, and Bella is about as passive as it gets.

However, this is not about my baggage. It's about what makes this series resonate with so many people.

Let's talk about one aspect of Bella's passivity - namely, that you don't have to do anything to be considered worthy of love. You just have to be you.

We all seek to earn love - we get good grades (or bad grades), keep a clean house, save money, wear the right clothes and the right perfume, know all the outrageous sex tips, try to read someone's mind....

You get the picture.

But Bella is the object of Edward's obsession merely by sitting around, sleeping, and smelling really really good- all on her own. No special powers, no twisting herself into something she's not for approval, no Cinderella-type makeover to make someone notice her.

How powerful and hopeful of a message is that?!

You. Don't. Have. To. Earn. Love.

It's a radical thought in a society that tells women how they need to act to 'get a man'.

Twilight isn't my cup of tea, but it beats The Rules any day of the week.

I'm in the mood for a first kiss.

From Dracula's Secret - Valerie and Lance's first kiss:

Lance ambled forward, his gaze locked on her lips. He clasped her hand, caressing his thumb over the thin skin of her wrist. Her eyes stayed on him as he wrapped his other hand around her neck and, pulling her to him, touched his lips to hers. Her mouth surprised him. Such a starkly beautiful woman shouldn’t be so soft and plush.

For a few wild seconds, she stared into his eyes, seeming to assess his sincerity.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she closed her eyelids. Her hands wrapped around his back and held on as she opened her mouth and let him in.

He kissed her again and again, learning her mouth. Vampires didn’t taste of old blood or decay. Valerie, at least, tasted resinous and earthy, like rosemary. Like sex outdoors on a blanket under young redwood trees.

Their lips separated just far enough for him to look into her heavy-lidded hazel eyes. The hungry look on her face made his cock swell even harder until he ached to be inside of her.

She scratched at his nipples with her short nails. He hissed as he pressed into her touch. He clasped her chin with one hand. Clasping the other around her waist, he pushed her against a wall. Lance smiled as her eyes widened. He had his own gifts of supernatural-level strength.

Grabbing her ass, he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed against her hot crotch against his thumping erection. Their teeth clicked in a fierce kiss.

His hands kneaded the firm flesh of her bottom. Even through her pants he felt her muscles flex and quiver. She growled and slid her hands under his leather coat. His next powerful thrust had her raking her nails down his back. Lance offered no quarter. Neither did she. They fought for dominance with kisses.

She couldn’t overpower him. He met her, strength for strength, stroke for stroke, then matched her, and finally controlled her.

They broke apart. As they stared into each other’s eyes, he panted into her mouth. She took the unnecessary air into her lungs.

Vampires didn’t breathe, except to speak or scent. Oxygen, like alcohol in humans, made them euphoric, light-headed, and uninhibited. The undead hated being out of control. Her pupils dilated until the barest ring of hazel held. What would she do?

Valerie dug her hands into his hair. “More.”

Photo by Michael Baxter, the world's greatest photographer.