A couple weeks ago, I was having coffee with Dad and bemoaning the fact that my book pile was continuously growing without so much as a dent being made in it. While I really wanted to spend more time reading this summer, I had no motivation to sit down and read anything. Just a dry spell, I figured. And I needed something to snap me out of it.

A few days later I bought the first book in the Twilight series for Hannah. I had never read the books myself, but they came highly recommended, and I knew she would love something new to do during the long summer days. Hannah was hooked, finishing the 500+ page book in less than a week, a personal record for her I think. Then she was on to the second book, New Moon, and she said I had to read Twilight, I just had to.

Well…why not?

(fyi: in literary terms, that first paragraph would be considered ‘foreshadowing’)

I finished the book in a DAY, and suddenly Hannah and I were competing for time with book number two. She would stay up to read it at night, and I would read it while she slept in the next morning. After four marathon days, we had finished it (608 pages this time), and Hannah wanted to give her eyes a break. Naturally, that was fine with me. It gave me a chance to finish the third book, Eclipse (under penalty of death should I reveal any key plot points), so she could have it to herself when I was done.

Now I’m biding my time (see ticker at right), waiting for the fourth book and final book, Breaking Dawn, to be released on August 2nd, and we’re counting down the days to the premiere of the movie Twilight on December 12th. To our family’s chagrin, I’m sure, it’s been the topic of most of our conversations lately. What can I say? The books have managed to get myself, a person who is generally reluctant of fiction, and my fourteen-year old sister, a person who is generally reluctant of very long books, completely and totally invested in these characters. So it may not *great* literature, but I’d say it’s good enough.