Twilight Saga: I'll Take Jake

So Breaking Dawn, the fourth book in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series, hits stores Saturday, right? Although I know I’m in the minority here, I’ve got to add my vote to the fever-pitch riot of opinions popping up all over the internet about Edward and Jacob.

For those who haven’t read it, the series features a love triangle of sorts. We’ve got Bella, the main character, choosing between the stately, traditional, impeccably polite vampire, Edward, and this grease monkey kid from the rez, Jacob who, through no fault of his own, happens to be a werewolf. I know, it all sounds insipid to outsiders, but somehow Meyers makes it work.

The point to all of this is that I love Jacob, man. He’s funny, hot blooded, sweet and raw. He’s torn, faded Levi’s to Edward’s tuxedo. And let’s face it: I’m a sucker for a bad boy.

Although I’ve had mixed feelings about the series and about Bella as a protagonist, I’ve got to say I found it all compulsively readable. I never read a single word of the Harry Potter books, thus effectively missing out on a major cultural movement, so it’s been kind of cool to accidentally get swept up in this one.

My central theory about why the Twilight saga works so well is this: girls want to be worshipped. I know I do. Whenever I feel the slightest complacency from my boyfriend I’m like, “Listen, babe, I’m just not feeling the worship.” Bella’s insecure and clumsy, she’s totally human, yet she’s got two incredible, supernatural hotties worshipping her no matter what she does. Who can resist that fantasy?

I know I’m in the minority when it comes to loving Jake. Come on Cullen-heads, bring it on!

Dreaming of Blurbs from Stephenie Meyer

Last night I had a dream that I was at Stephenie Meyer’s house—yeah, that Stephenie Meyer, creator of the Twilight series, named one of the most influential people of 2008 by Time magazine. She was gracious and elegant, in spite of the obnoxious fans who came right up to her doorstep and harassed her. I was ridiculously giddy. Me, in the home of a superstar YA author! I kept trying to subtly suggest that she blurb my next book.

When I awoke, my boyfriend told me he had a dream that some shock jock made fun of my book on the air, and that I was having a nervous breakdown as a result. Conclusion? There’s just way too much anxiety about book publicity in my bed these days!

It’s a quandary: You’re a writer, so you want readers. You love what you do, and if you don’t make money at it, chances are you won’t be able to go on doing it—at least, not as much as you’d like to.

But at what point does self promotion cross the line into whoredom? I want people to read my books, but I don’t want to turn into someone so obsessed with publicity that I abandon the quiet, imaginative core that gave life to those books in the first place.