Love, Love, Love -- Jennie

Two and a half weeks after surgery, I am now on page 85 of Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight. I am reading as a literary-ologist, trying to answer the 1.3 million-copies-sold-the-first-day question: What makes it so good?

Not that I’m any published author (yet), but Meyer does everything we writers are forbidden. The first sin is that the book’s too long: 500 pages crippled with minute and distracting plot “details” that read more like a list of uneventful daily activities than a novel.

In addition, the only variation in sentence beginnings is between “I” and “When.” The sentences are also the same length; there is no rhythm or flow. Verbs are overused: “flashed,” “flickered,” “looked;” the book is plagued with adverbs; and—believe it—there’s tons of “I felt…”

“I felt!!!”

Here’s a passage from page 33, an example of some of the above:

“When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn’t mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge.”

Is this a culinary diary, or a book about vampires?

I know. I’m snarky. Meyer is probably sending her bodyguards after me right now.

But, Stephanie, wait.

First, I’m claiming the Vicodin-exclusionary clause. Next, let me say congratulations. You somehow (marketing?) tapped into a commercial, crossover market, and totally deserve your ga-zillions.

And I know how you did it.

With love.

Julie’s newest blog chronicles her obsession with The X Files not because of its quirky sci-fi plot, but because of the compelling love story between Scully and Mulder. The love story!

Love is big! It’s huge! Even my sixteen year-old brother, who read my YA manuscript, claimed that his favorite part was not the sports, or the boy’s conflict, or the guy stuff, but the love story!

Ah hah!

The secret to YA book success is revealed. And, my friends, I am sharing it with you. It’s love: pure and simple, forbidden or unrequited, lost or found. Love.

Now about the vampires standing in my doorway…