Yes, it's OK to hate on other authors. Venal, stupid. Sure. But it feels good. Stephanie Meyer is one I despise. I drool with vitriol. Twilight is made, manufactured, contrived, measured, alchemized, tailored for your average Ugg boot flip flop texting post-Hannah Montana tweener. Destroy every vampire convention and paradigm? Fine--that's cool. Just replace it with a new mythos, like my girl L.A. Banks has. Don't transform it into "The Hills" and "The O.C." and "Gossip Girl" meets a female verison of SE Hinton's/Francis Ford Coppola's "The Outsiders." It's not insipid as Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. But Sisterhood doesn't have any melodramatic pretense nor does it provide a crutch for a braindead generation. But hey, you know your audience. Such will spawn pretenders and editors who'll say "Hey, can you do a sort of Twilight?" Even in a recession, teenage girls will buy, buy, buy. And yet again, don't crow "At least they're reading." They won't graduate to other stuff. No. Please.
So here's the skinny on the film adaptation Twilight (click). Yeah, yeah. I'm hating. Jealous, even. But I'm not on this earth to indulge teenage girls. Be nice to challenge them. Insipire them. Teach them to think out of the box. Ummm...then again, we are talking about American teenage girls here...
