
Just finished Stephanie Meyer's second book in her Twilight series, called New Moon. I had read Twilight (the first book) sometime last year before seeing the first movie. Unlike many of Meyer's fans, I wasn't instantly addicted. I think she's a compelling writer and the way she weaves a story is certainly entertaining. I wouldn't say it drew me into obsession or that I couldn't put it down, but overall, I enjoyed the book.
I will make one comment I hope wouldn't offend Meyer, should she for whatever reason read this blog entry. And that is this, I find it disappointing that the most read romance of my generations literary era has been a book about vampires and werewolves. Literature is certainly not what it once was. While I support expanding the imagination as well as the mind, I find myself slightly saddened by romantic literature these days.
I'm sure some of you are wondering and yes, I will read the next one in the series. I'm not sure if I'll do it right away, but eventually.
That's four books so far this year, but leaves me trailing far behind my partner in reading crime. I need to get in gear!
Love,
B