Monday, April 1, 2013


I, too, love to read books about vampires who are gorgeous and good. “Come on,” I ask, “who could ignore the charms of a passionate and sexy love story that ends with life…love eternal?” But then, I end up thinking about the latest, and then all of those countless fantasies I’ve read, and inevitably start teasing at the story line to pick out the parts that are immature. I question why a one hundred year plus vampire would be interested in an eighteen year old girl. I’m no where near one hundred years old and the thought of spending all of my time with an eighteen year old boy—no matter how gorgeous—would be tedious at best. And really, isn’t there something that smacks of pedophilia,as much as predatory, in the thought of being with a person who hasn’t had much experience of life? By the time I work through that creepy thought, I ask myself if love “should” last forever. I conclude: Love, by all means. But as a married—glued together—couple forever? Well, now that seems like pure emotional stagnation. Still, I’ll continue to sink my teeth into and gobble down those vampire “candy” books. They are just too tasty for me not to enjoy them.

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