Twilight series

An article in today's local paper (and I'm sure in every other paper in the country, too) focuses on the love for the Twilight series. However, this article takes the twist of why adult women, not teenagers, love these books. If you want to know why I fell in love with them, too, read this article. I can totally relate. Some highlights:

Julie Price is 35 and single and loves them "because they remind you of being young again, of how intense your feelings are when you're a teenager. It makes your heart race."

Price also voiced a common refrain among Twilight's older readers: She had never before read a vampire story, only to find herself hooked. "There's something very appealing about the culture of the vampire," she said. "They're so beautiful and untouchable. And how Edward is overcoming his vices, his natural tendencies, makes him even more exciting. He could kill her, but he loves her."

And:

Stacey Erickson, an Eagan mother of three and Twilight Mom, at age 35, has found herself head-over-heels in love with -- well, love. Meyers, she said, "just captures that feeling of having such a crush on some boy, that if he ever even brushed against you, you would shiver."

I was talking with my friend Em about these books yesterday and I mentioned that another reason I love them is because in the first three books, despite their utter infatuation with each other, Bella and Edward have abstained. I think this is a very important message to send the teenage audience (and probably makes moms very happy). Author Meyer is religious (she's Mormon, doesn't work on Sundays, etc) and has said in interviews that she was a very good girl when she was growing up. I definitely appreciate her drive to keep these two apart physically. While I also love the Traveling Pants series, I couldn't quite get onboard with a few of those girls having sex in high school. These books prove that teenage girls (and even women) don't need to read about sex to enjoy a book. Romance comes is all shapes and forms, and oftentimes it's about much more than the bedroom.

Green Reading

I just read this article on MinnPost about green publishing, and how the book business uses up a lot of our natural resources. Some of the stats from the article:

According to the Green Press Initiative, 30 million trees are used to make books to be sold in the United States every year, and sources include endangered, ecologically sensitive and old-growth forests. The carbon footprint of a single book is 8.85 pounds, and the book publishing industry as a whole emits a net 12.4 million pounds of carbon dioxide every year, taking into account all steps of the production cycle, from tree harvesting to incinerating that paperback you left out in the rain.

And this one:

Ironically, the book that has consumed more trees in recent history than any other has helped push changes in the publishing industry. On the urging of author J.K. Rowling, Scholastic printed 65 percent of the U.S. first edition of the final Harry Potter book on Forest Stewardship Council (FSC)-certified paper, meaning it was harvested from responsibly managed forests, and included at least 30 percent post-consumer recycled paper.

The impact was significant: These moves saved 200,000 trees and had the same carbon impact as taking 1,577 cars off the road. Furthermore, printers across the country began stocking more recycled and FSC-certified paper to meet the demand.

It's really an interesting article and it also touches on the newspaper and magazine industries, which hits close to home for me. I'm encouraged that publishers are taking these issues to heart, because as I've posted before, I love to hold books in my hand. I'm not one who wants to read off a computer screen for too long. I don't think books will ever go out of "style," so it's important to keep ahead of the curve and be good to Mother Earth while still publishing important, fun, educational or classic writing, wherever it may appear on the printed page.

Songs Without Words

This story, by Ann Packer, was mostly focused around Liz and Sarabeth, two friends from high school. The book starts with the girls in high school, when Sarabeth lived with Liz and her family after her mother committed suicide. Flash forward to present-day, when Liz is a mother of two and Sarabeth lives alone. They get together often.

When Liz’s 16-year-old daughter Lauren falls into a depression, Liz and Sarabeth’s relationship hits a rough patch. The rest of the book follows the Liz’s family and Sarabeth separately and together as they deal with Lauren’s depression. The book speaks from the perspectives of Liz, Sarabeth, Lauren and Liz’s husband Brody.

I liked the book, but it wasn’t those ones that I couldn’t put down. I wasn’t extremely attached to the characters, so I wasn’t absorbed in how I wanted it to end, or how I didn’t want it to end. However, the issues the book raised did make me think. It focused a lot on depression, particularly teenage depression, but also adult depression. I’ve always felt this is a real illness and it’s so important to treat if possible. So, it was informational to read about these situations, even if it was in a fictional book.

The book also studied Liz and Sarabeth’s relationship deeply. This was interesting to read about because, as a woman, I’ve always been fascinated by the way we manage relationships. Many of us have a hard time telling our good friends if they make us mad, if they hurt our feelings. Then we steam and stir to ourselves, act indifferent, cut off communication, etc. Why do we act this way? It’s hurtful to everyone involved and it really doesn’t solve anything. I even just read an article online the other day about ending friendships – that sometimes giving your friend the cold shoulder is the only way to break off a friendship, even if she never learns the reason why.

The book and the article made me think back to previous friendships I’ve had that didn’t work out in the end. Sometimes my intuition just told me to let it go, sometimes distance did it, sometimes a boy. Oftentimes I ended these relationships by just stopping contact. It just seemed easier – but it never provided closure. Obviously. I still think about them to this day. But, both the book and the article also made me value and thankful for the true friendships I have now.

If for only that reason, it was a good book.