Last night, I finished the last book in the Twilight series. Reading the books has consumed my life during the past two weeks. I shunned outside activities, stayed up late and woke up early almost everyday just so that I could read a few more pages. I put aside the disturbing but equally captivating book that I had been reading, The Picture of Dorian Gray. As soon as I am able to move forward from my lingering thoughts and unresolved questions about the Twilight story, I shall return to Dorian Gray. I just wonder when and if my brain will be able to move from Twilight.

It is funny that just as I shunned Harry Potter for years, I was reluctant to read Twilight. But as I was doubtful that a "kids book about wizards" would be able to truly capture me, I was doubtful that a silly teeny-bopper, fantasy book would even come close to having the beauty and complexity of my favorite Austen and Hardy classics. But something—a combination of being hooked on the CW’s rather tame Vampire Diaries and the encouragement of friends—convinced me to start reading the books. I am so happy that I did.

I am in love with the story of Twilight. Sure, it may never be as close to my heart as Persuasion. But, something about the idea of love, true love, being the purpose for and quest of your life has filled me with joy. I was engaged by the love story, by the conflict, and by the supernatural world Stephenie Meyer created. Of course, like many, I cringed at the incomplete editing and other flaws that appeared in the book (It was interesting to watch how her writing and voice became stronger over the series). But after the first few chapters, it no longer mattered. The story had a way of sucking me in and making me anxious to discover the resolution of Bella’s story and in an odd way, it charged me to find resolution in my own life.

This means that it made me think a lot about Floyd. Wondering if Floyd is my Edward, my true love. But I’ll save that for anther day. As I will also think later about how the book and Meyer’s somewhat unplanned ascent to authorhood has inspired me to write again. I’m not so deranged to think that a beloved story of my own will come in a dream, but I am excited about the possibility that I, too, could create characters and a story as vivid and satisfying.

For now, I give two thumbs up for the Twilight saga. It is intoxicating, frightening, and enjoyable. I look forward to reading the books again, less anxiously, so that I can have an even greater appreciation and understanding of how the author was able to weave such a beautiful story. So though, I’m not quite a Twi-hard, I am deeply reverent of how her story has moved me.

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