twiloozer. twitlight. twihavenolife.*

I’m sitting on a plane that’s just left LAX, and is bound for Vancouver. My heart is thumping wildly in my chest, my cheeks are flushed, my breathing is uneven, and I feel a bit light-headed. Turbulence? Well, yes actually, and the pilot’s already apologised several times and explained they’re changing altitude regularly to try and ensure us a smoother flight. I barely hear these announcements though, and I’m hardly aware the flight feels more like we’re driving down a dirt track in rural NSW than cruising the skies above North America.

I’m far more absorbed in the pages of the thick black book on my lap. Ironically, my imagination has wandered to somewhere almost directly below the plane’s trajectory and is in a meadow in Forks, Washington. Yes, I’m reading Twilight. Now, before you sigh, shake your head and close your browser, let me assure you, this is not typical behaviour: I don’t do romance for goodness’ sake! I can’t stand “chick flicks”, and I don’t read soppy, romantic, girly novels, and I especially don’t care for vampire nonsense!! So why the heck am I literally about to swoon as Edward finally leans in to kiss Bella?

Honestly, I still have no idea. The Twilight books are scarcely literary masterpieces; the prose is rather unsophisticated, and in many instances I find the language construction clumsy and repetitive. I should not like these books. But I do. Oh, I really do. I finished Twilight in YVR waiting for the flight home. I finished New Moon in LAX, and had finished Eclipse before I’d landed in Nadi. It was agony to have to wait until I arrived home to get hold of Breaking Dawn. And the thing is, I’ve had several conversations with intelligent, mature, women who have had exactly the same experience!

To be truthful, I have some idea of the appeal. Edward.

Okay, well, now that I’ve completely embarrassed myself … we return to normal programming shortly …