Archive for Twilight

50 Shades? I wouldn’t read it.

Posted in Books, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 11, 2013 by urbannight

Years ago, I used to do improve writing every day.  I would get home from work, turn on the computer and write.  I had a book, from which I got the idea, that gave a list of things to write about.  I did those sometime.  Other times, I developed a fun game where I walked into a room and glanced around.  The first thing I saw would become my subject.  I would have to write at least a page about the item. 

I’m thinking about it as I looks at my Pessimist’s, tear-away calendar.  Today’t entry is 50 Shades of Meh.  It calls the book unreadable and gives examples of the repreative nature of the book. One such example is that the author mentions that the protagonist ‘blushes or flushes’ a total of 125 times. 

I particularily like how the calendar writer tells us that the 50 shades book started as Twilight fan fic and when you compare 50 Shades to Twilight, Twilight ‘reads like Dostoevsky’ in comparison.

They give a sample sentence and I found that it made my head hurt.  Well, it was two sentences.  Let me share it with you.

“Anticipation hangs heavy over my head lika a dark, tropical storm cloud.  Butterflies flood my belly – as well as a darker, carnal, captivation ache as I try to imagine what he will do to me.”

I’m having trouble with the alliteration.  To much alliteration ruined a mystery series for me a few years back.  At first it was amusing and enjoyable.  But then it started to feel if the author was attempting to put it in just to see how many times she could do it in one novel. 

It isn’t too different from how the puns in Piers Anthony books were originally amusing, but latter books began to have so many puns sent in by readers that the stories themselves were getting lost.  And all the characters started to sound alike.  Not a good thing to have happen.

I also didn’t like going from tropical storm clouds to butterflies that fast.  My brain seizes up and I want to know which image I’m supposed to carry for what will follow.  The feeling of dark energy and movement and building tension inplied by the storm coulds or the sense of sunlight flashing off the wings of a flock of brightly colored butterflies. 

And what is with ‘darker, carnal, captivating ache’?  ‘A darker ache’ is all she needed to get the point across.  Without actually reading the books I am still able to know exactly what she means. 

If I had bought it, just from those two sentences, assuming they are typical of the rest of the book, it would have joined the handful of unfinished books I have.

Island of the Blue Dolphins.  Technically, I did finish it one time.  It took me four years.  It was the first one or two chapters that were so awful that I could never get past them.  I started it in grade school and finished in high school.  In college, I thought I would give it another try.  The rest of the book was really interesting.  Again, the beginning was so bad I actually got rid of the book.

Steamed.  A steampunk novel by a romance writer that utterly failed.  It was also a ‘travel to an alternate reality’ novel.  The male lead in his own world would have been a great story.  The female lead’s story in her world would have been a great story.  But the story she tried to tell with them together was horrible.

Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series.  I stopped after book Seven.  I got totally disgusted.  The series was already dragging on too long, taking off on too many tangents.  He told us it would be seven books long.  At book seven, not only was it nowhere near done, he created a HUGE new tangent.  I never picked up another book in that series again.

So, no 50 Shades of anything for me.  I think I’ll resume my reading of early Andre Norton science fiction.  There are a few awkward elements to her early books.  But I really want to find out where Ross and the others end up.

The Scary Nature of Twilight Anesthesia and Dental Surgery

Posted in Life with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 24, 2012 by urbannight

When I was 21 I had to have my wisdom teeth pulled.  The entire process was a nightmare when it really should not have been. 

Since I was going under anesthesia and would not be able to drive after, my mother took the day off and took me to the oral surgeon.  It was a house renovated into a dental surgery.  It was a cute house.  It was a cute office.  The receptionist/assistant was not so cute.  It was her personality and not her appearance.   She was a nice enough looking, 30-something, mother-like person. 

I went up to the counter to check in.  She didn’t talk to me, she spoke to my mother.  “She can’t be coming in to get her wisdom teeth removed, she is too young.”

“I am 21.”  Note that I replied.  Not my mother.  It was a long time ago, I may have been 20.  Either way, that exact number doesn’t matter too much in the face of what she said next.

“Oh, I’m sorry.  You look about 13 to me.”  She spoke to me this time.  It might have ended there is she didn’t continue to talk to me and treat me like I was a 13 year old.

I sit down in the dental chair and they explain the Twilight Anesthesia to me.  They need to use it because it won’t put me completely under.  I’ll be able to listen and follow instructions.  But it blocks the memory and the brain doesn’t record properly so I won’t remember what happens.  The last memory I had was the Dental Surgeon coming in, pulling up a stool and introducing himself.

The next thing I remember is waking up on a small cot in a tiny, dark room with a sink.  I think it was a bathroom converted into a recovery room.  But it was CREEPY!  Tiny. Dark. I was on a cot.  I had no memory.  Tell me this isn’t a creepy thing to happen. 

Apparently, I freaked out a bit.  Next thing I know my mom is in there with me but I have no memory of what happened between asking where I was, why I was on a cot and what happened to me and my mom being suddenly in the room.  I had sporadic memory gaps for about another half hour. 

I have a memory of either the doctor or the assistant telling my mom I was a model patient until after the operation.  They apparently didn’t appreciate my being upset about how I found myself during my first actual memory afterwards.

Tell me, if you were a young woman who just had surgery w/ a male doctor and you woke up in the dark what looked like a closet with a bed and no memory of what happened and how you got there, wouldn’t you be upset and freak out as well?

I then am given a prescription for pain killers.  They have to be taken on a full stomach.  But I had to go there on an empty stomach for the anesthesia.  And they give a one dose of the pain killer on the empty stomach.  I also can’t eat anything solid for a day or two.  So I’m left with shakes and broths and liquids.  The end result is I start off with the pain killers making me throw up all the time.  Because of the empty stomach. 

I lost something like 10 pounds in one week.  Unfortunately, when you lose weight that way, it piles back on the first time you eat a proper meal.