Wednesday, September 16, 2009
I have a confession to make. I’m both embarrassed and nervous about actually putting it on paper for anyone to see. Since it has been said that, “the truth shall set you free,” here goes. I have not read nor plan to read, any of the Twilight novels. I know, I know. I can hear the collective gasps from Twilight enthusiasts, a lot of which are my family members and close friends. Now that my secret is out I fear I will be defriended from more than half of my facebook friends, party invites will cease and I will be forced to hang my head in shame.
I have nothing against the teen vampire series. In fact, I’ve had many friends who are self labeled “literary snobs,” tell me how fantastically written they are.
Now I guess it’s time for my second confession (oh yeah, it gets worse). I hate, and will avoid at all costs, any scary movies. At the movies, if one of the coming attractions is scary, I’ll close my eyes and put my hands over my ears. In the event my husband and I are with other couples, I forego that exterior self soother in favor of singing, You’re My First, My Last, My Everything by Barry White, in my head.
Before anyone tries to interject and tell me how Twilight “isn’t scary” or “It’s about good vampires” or “It’s a love story,” don’t bother. Any vampire is scary to me. No matter if they feast on human or animal blood. They all totally freak me out!
It’s almost like when I was in college and a lady in one of my classes told me she had been studying an alternative religion where she is one with nature. She went on to tell me how she will now be considered a goddess of nature or witch. She must have noticed the shock on my face when she said, “It’s a good witch, not a bad witch.” Needless to say I moved seats right after that. Good witch, bad witch, it’s still a witch. You may call it close minded. I call it playing it safe. I have no desire to have my life become the topic for a horror movie, “based on actual events.”
My aversion to all things cinematically frightening began at a very young age when my big brother thought, The Wolfman was an appropriate movie for a 5 year old to watch. I don’t think I slept for close to a year. Not long after I could sleep all night again, I walked into the den while my parents were watching Psycho. After that, I couldn’t sleep or take showers. Don’t even ask me what watching Jaws I, II and III did to me. Not to mention my mother who spent the better part of the 80’s with me refusing to take showers and trying to convince me that a great white shark cannot survive in Old Hickory Lake.
That’s where it all started and I’m embarrassed to say, it’s stuck. While I say it’s the price you pay for having an active imagination, my husband calls it “another piece of the puzzle.”
For now, I guess I’ll just have to deal with the frenzy of New Moon mania and accept that some of my family and friends will remain Vampire Devotees. Perhaps I’ll just have to break down and read what everyone is raving about. Yeah and I really enjoy watching Nightmare on Elm Street.
You can reach Becky Andrews at becky@wilsonlivingmagazine.com
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