The Vamp Fic Heroine: A Plea to Stephenie Meyer

Dear Stephenie Meyer,

I’m a big fan of teen lit. As a future teacher, I like to see that an entire genre is dedicated to this amorphous, weird, awkward, but important time in a person’s life. Because of this, I’m very careful about what I plan to recommend for my students. And so I have to ask you about Young Adult Fiction’s newest icon: Miss Isabella Swan, alias Bella.

I just don’t get Twilight. I mean, yeah – I get that it’s about your average girl who finds herself caught in this intense and beautiful romance with some achingly gorgeous vampire who simply cannot resist her for her… smell.

But what it’s really about is a girl who feels like she has no worth, and who subjects herself to an emotionally abusive man.

I don’t understand – are you intentionally instilling this damaging ideal of love and identity? Are you unaware of the impact that this destructive outlook will have on the very impressionable teenage girls for whom you are writing? I can’t bring myself to believe that you are purposefully advocating all of these completely insensible and harmful notions of how a young girl behaves and lives.

But that seems to be the unfortunate truth.

If you’re not sure what I mean, let’s talk about Bella. As a model for young girls to follow and connect with, I’m incredibly disappointed. In her, you’ve romanticized this idea that a girl can follow whatever impulses she feels, and do what she pleases, without regard for consequence.  That she can immerse herself entirely in another person. That being in love with a man is the only part of life worth experiencing.

When Bella and Edward become involved, suddenly it’s as though no other person in the world really exists outside of him. Her entire being is focused toward being with him, thinking about him, feeling incomplete without him.  I understand the effect of love, but this is not it – this is obsession. She is engulfed in him, and she gives herself over completely to him and his whims, leaving no room for herself to grow or even to develop a personality of her own. Her very happiness is contingent on how much of Edward she sees, how happy he seems. This tells the girl who is reading the book, the girl who is at a critical point in her life when it comes to learning how to form healthy relationships with the people around her, that it’s perfectly acceptable to throw herself at a man and forsake any other form of human contact.

For Bella, no one else has a chance. Not her mother, who misses her and worries for her — Bella finds it a burden to even send her emails, because it takes precious time from being with Edward. Not her father, who is sweet and helpless — he keeps her from being alone with Edward. Not her friends, who bore her in comparison with Edward. It’s a never-ending exercise in frustration, having to suffer through her utter disregard for any indication that she’s actually a living person. She doesn’t even seem to have any interests, besides Edward.

A resultant disdain for the ‘normal’ is particularly irritating. She treats her friends as though they are entirely beneath her, concerned with the unimportant parts of life, caught up in the superficial nonsense of it all. I have to ask, what is so wrong with having a balanced life? So they enjoy going to the movies and talking about who’s dating whom. Suddenly they become plebeians unworthy of any attention, because they’re just not dramatic enough – their lives aren’t in constant danger, they don’t encounter mortal peril on a daily basis. Well, they must be empty shells of real human beings. This sends the message that if you take the time to enjoy the little things, you are inferior. How is this supposed to make the girl who likes her friends and her mother feel, when Bella is saying that what’s normal is essentially lame?

And she’s so down on herself. Over and over again, she questions what Edward could possibly see in her. She tells herself that’s she not worthy of him, that he deserves some glam goddess to match his perfect self. Her total self-deprecation, and this indulgence in her own self-pity, worries me. What does that say to the girl who’s already insecure about herself, who needs to validate her self-worth, whose self-esteem is shaky at best? This sends the message that if you’re somewhere in the middle, as most of us are, you’re not going to find real happiness, and if you do find it, you don’t deserve it. It ruins any real chance of a girl finding confidence in herself, and affirming that she is worth something.

And being convinced that she doesn’t deserve him is why she allows his emotional abuse. He treats her like a play-thing, a form of amusement. He finds her human tendencies charming, but if not for that weird smell factor, and the fact that he can’t read her mind (convenient), would he be interested in her at all? I doubt it. And when he just picks up and leaves, he treats her like a pet that he’s giving away because he doesn’t want it anymore. He gives no indication of caring about her, and she thinks it’s acceptable to let him jerk her around. She falls into a haze of despair, convinced that it’s her fault he’s left. Stephenie, you’re letting the teenage woman think that however a guy treats her is okay, that he can be mean and lie and leave her, but that he’ll be welcomed back with open arms. If Bella had a shred of self-respect she would realize that this is no way to be treated.

Outside of all that is the idea that it’s okay, even a virtue, to be manipulative (leading Jacob on), selfish (ditching her friends when someone better comes along), and under-handed (acting as though she’s interested in her friends so that she doesn’t have to be alone, lying about her feelings, and countless other examples).

I don’t know, Stephenie. A heroine that young women can all look up to and learn from? You can do better.

Regretfully Yours,

Megan

Zombie typewriters? They’re back from the dead.

To most people, typewriters are an archaic hunk of metal sitting in an antique shop or thrift store, waiting out their last days. Ribbons drying up, keys locking, wasting away, until someone stumbles in and decides to take it home out of curiosity. Apparently, this is becoming quite common. Common enough, it seems, that there is a “typewriter revival” dating back to as early as 2005.

In a world full of technology, some people are turning to this seemingly extinct device to write upon. The truth is that typewriters were never truly extinct. Staples still sells typewriters, the NYPD still uses typewriters (although the officers don’t seem to be too fond of them), and there are plenty of websites dedicated to refurbishing them and selling them. Granted, the ones at Staples are slightly more advanced, but I digress. The point is, people are using them. Why would someone do such a thing? There are several reasons: practical ones, pretentious ones, and artistic ones.

In today’s technology-laden world, some people feel like using a typewriter is an escape from all the distractions of the computer. There’s no spider solitaire, no Twitter and Facebook, no World of Warcraft. Just you and the written word. The typewriter isn’t too dissimilar from the computer so that the user is completely new to it. After all, the typewriter is the origin for our QWERTY keyboard. And a page on the typewriter looks like a page on a word processing program without a toolbar, or for the few who had one when they were new, simply a word processing machine without the on switch and monitor.

Some might argue that a pen and paper will do just fine; that there is a better connection with the written word when you’re actually writing the words. Others might feel that the computer is better, because you can edit and revise as much you want without having to use white out. Others say it doesn’t matter what you write with, but what you write in terms of content (as a previous blogger wrote). But some feel like the typewriter is the perfect tool. Because fixing mistakes on a typewritten sheet is such a pain, people are less likely to type without thinking. With a typewriter one doesn’t have to worry about it crashing and losing all of the things they just wrote (weeping and cursing the electronics), or turning it on in the morning and waiting for what seems like hours (especially with Vista) for it to just stop blinking its green light and let you work on something. Not the typewriter; it’s just sitting there, completely functional and ready to go. Computers can become obsolete within a few months of purchase as better, faster software is released. Also, computers often have an extremely short lifespan and don’t come in nearly as many colors (Seventies orange? Dove grey? Prussian blue? Beat that, Dell.). Some people feel comforted by a typewriter’s durability; after 50 years, the machine still works perfectly fine.

Others feel they simply write better on a typewriter. With word-processing programs a person can simply delete a previous sentence and start over. With a typewriter, the words are literally engraved into the page. A person has to think carefully before they type a sentence, unless they wish to waste sheaves of paper or spend lots of money on new ribbons. Hipsters and other overly pretentious people, however, just want to look oh-so-unique writing on some vintage or obsolete typewriter and picture themselves as the future Hemingway or Thompson. For older people, they are just used to it, and don’t feel like dealing with all that newfangled technology.

Whatever the reasons, typewriters seem to be making a comeback. Based on the amount of interest in them, and the fact that typewriter repairmen still exist in the world, it is a testament to how lasting and useful the machine is. And apparently, it’s going to last for a while longer.

Some lovely points are made in the following blog entry:
http://www.strikethru.net/2007/08/typecast-10-things-i-notice-about-using.html
(I’d also like to note that this blog is a wealth of information about the topic of typewriters and ephemera.)

This is the article from 2005: http://www.billingsgazette.com/news/national/article_ca3ff26a-822d-5ac8-8824-edc0b525d762.html

Thoughts on Google Books

With the release of Amazon’s Kindle, as well as other prototypes that followed, scholars and readers alike have begun to question the future of the book. Will the book eventually become extinct? Can it survive in the move to modern technology? Google’s recent move to digitalize books online has only pushed these questions further. How can the written word survive against other media forms?

This topic has caused nothing but heated debates in my numerous English classes. Most people seem to dislike the move to digitalization. After hearing their point of view, it’s understandable. Many of my classmates are creative writing majors, and having their work published would be a dream come true. Of course, their idea of being published has always been in a book format. They desire to hold the product of their labor, the bound book they spent hours, days, and months working on. Never did they think that publishing could one day mean having it put on the internet, as the industry considers doing. This idea contradicts the dreams they have had since they decided that they wanted to become writers.

I have mixed views on the wave of digitalization. I am an English major and do enjoy picking up a novel and reading it for my enjoyment. To be able to crawl into bed or sit on the beach with a good book is so relaxing. If I could do that everyday, I certainly would. There’s something about holding the book, turning its delicate pages, and smelling its unique smell, that gets me every time. I am sure that most, if not all of you out there reading this can agree. So I don’t mind dropping a few bucks here and there to buy a new book. The way I see it, I’m simply feeding this indulgence to read and fill my already packed bookshelf with more and more great books.

On the flip side, having books available online would be very beneficial, especially to poor college students out there like myself. In class the other day we started talking briefly about buying textbooks from the school bookstore. Of course, the company and people that run these bookstores want us to buy all of our books from them. But with their high prices, students are forced to look elsewhere because they just cannot afford to spend so much money on books, even if the bookstore is convenient location-wise. As an incoming freshman, I ordered all of my books from my school bookstore about two weeks before school started and spent about $500 for just one semester worth of books. Four months later, I sold them all back to the same bookstore. I was lucky to have made $150. That semester was a learning experience for me. I started to look online for used books at a cheaper price. This semester, I managed to spend no more than $250 on my books. That’s half the price I paid that first semester! While that is much cheaper, $250 is still a lot of money to pay for books I’m going to use for four months, then sell back for a fraction of the price. Buying college textbooks feels like a scam. It’s a process that makes the broke even more broke. We are already paying an arm and a leg for tuition, so why do we need to be charged so much for just one book?

If Google wants to digitalize books online for public use I have to say I’m all for it. It would be cheaper and more convenient for students across the country, and across the world. While I certainly love the book format, the shift to digitalization seems impending at this point. I don’t completely support this movement because I would hate to see the day when books become extinct. But at the same time, we have to realize that Google is on the verge of something beneficial to a lot of people. We need digitalization in this time of economic crisis, and Google couldn’t have begun it at a better time.

A Connection to What We Write

Before computers there were typewriters. Before typewriters there were pens. And before pens, well, people drew. Does the medium in which one works change the end result? Does writing with a pen connect you more than typing on a computer? Is the ‘clack, clack, clack’ you get from writing on a typewriter more meaningful then the little “click, click, click’ you get while writing on a computer. Or does it even matter?

Technology changes and advances, which is why we have been able to change from the pen to a typewriter, and now to a computer. Things become more efficient, and since the world is changing everything within it does too. But with writing, some things stay the same. A person must think of an idea to put down. They construct one and work with it, deepening everything else that goes into the work. In stories, a plot is invented, characters get made, and then these things get strung together. Writing an essay or research paper a similar form is used, but instead of a plot a thesis is needed. Instead of characters the ideas and reasoning behind the thesis are thought out, followed by quotes and research to back up the ideas, and lastly finding the right way to string it all together. But now one wonders if typing this on a computer or bringing it old school to a typewriter would change the end result.

It is said that when using a typewriter a writer must think more about what is put on the paper. Unlike a computer, there is no backspace button to delete whatever thoughts were put down. On a typewriter you cannot ramble along until you come up with what you want to say. On the contrary, you must think deeply before you type, or else you are going to have to get out that little white strip to go over the mistakes you may have just made. I do not believe this is true. Sitting in front of a typewriter my ideas still have to get worked out before I type them down. On the screen I would have to do that on a notebook beside me. Although these thoughts do not go right onto my final product, as they would on a computer, they are still right there. It would be nearly impossible to just think, write, and be finished, having no notes or anything in between.

I know that when I am writing on a computer, I sometimes just stare at the screen, trying to gather my thoughts about what I am about to do. I feel as though writing on a typewriter I would get that same feeling. This feeling also does not escape those sitting with a pen and a notebook in front of them. Staring at that blank piece of paper, searching for an inkling of inspiration, is impossible to avoid. It is something that happens to all writers. This feeling is what connects the pen, the typewriter, and a computer. All three have one starting place in common; staring at that blank piece of paper.

It is also unlikely that a pen does not touch a piece of work. It is not often that a person does not print the thing they are working on to edit it. It is necessary to make changes, corrections, and to further improve the work. Looking at a computer screen is not the same as having a hard copy in one hand, a pen in the other. A computer just deletes, but with a pen you can cross out, write over, and work with what you’ve already got. This process is necessary when writing in any medium, because the pen is just as likely to cross out typed words as it is to cross out other pen-written ones.

This is not to say that the pen is more important than the computer or the typewriter. It is just to say that what is important are the words that get put down and the way they finally end up. Because one day there will be a newer technology. One day there might be something completely different to write on. Even now one can write without even writing. Just speak, and some computers do the typing for you, completely omitting the pen, the keyboard, and the typewriter. This shows that even without even physically writing a piece the author is still connected to the writing. It does not matter in what form; it is important simply to be connected.

The end result of a work is what people see. The noise we hear while working, whether a scratch, a clack, or a click will affect every writer differently and it is up to the writer to choose what works best for them. Because no matter what medium we are working with, the same things are achieved.

The Market Has Spoken

William Zinsser wrote “sell yourself and your subject will exert its own appeal.” The popularity of books fluctuates as in any other market, subject to fads, publicity, and hype. Zinsser is right; people buy books based upon appeal. I’d like to think I’m a sophisticated buyer. However, I know I’m subject to the market mentality just as much as the next person. We all would like to think our individual tastes determine our likes and dislikes, but really the market dictates most of our buying decisions.

What is the best way to influence the market positively in favor of a book? What gets people to browse on Amazon and ultimately click “Add to Cart”? A movie deal.

The book that comes to mind for me is Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell. Blog turned book, book turned movie. Right now that book is number 4 on the New York Times Bestseller list for paperback nonfiction. And what is second on the list? My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme. The interest brought on by the movie has triggered book sales for Julie Powell and Julia Child who died in 2004. Who wouldn’t want to buy a book with cute Amy Adams and iconic Meryl Streep on the cover? Julie and Julia was first published in 2005, but the movie rejuvenated book sales, making it the beach-read this past summer. Today so many forms of entertainment bombard us. Publishers have for a long time realized that using multiple types of media sells.

Whether or not the transformation of a book into a movie results in a well made film is a topic for another time; but I think in order to compete for consumers in an oversaturated market a movie deal can have its advantages. With over a million copies sold of Julie and Julia, the market has spoken.

My Confession

I have never been someone who reads classic novels. I’ve always pretended. My ever-pretentious grandma would tell my ever-naive great-grandma about how “literary” I am, how “well-read” and “cultured,” while I sat between the two of them, nodding, thinking, If only you knew. It became an awful cycle: my great-grandma writes a monthly newsletter, which is then sent out to the entire extended family, and my name will often be attached to assertions such as, “Lauren has read all the classics; she makes such intelligent conversation, always impressing Glenna [my grandma] with her knowledge.” Then, of course, my great aunts and uncles, when they see me every two to three years, say things like, “How are your English courses going?” And I respond with, “Oh, you know, really great.” And they ask, “What have you read lately?” And then I have to think of some smart title – Moby Dick, maybe, or Flannery O’Connor’s entire collection of short stories (neither of which I have read) – to pretend to be reading, all the while feeling ashamed of the fact that what I’m actually reading is a Chick-Lit novel called How to Meet Cute Boys. (This book actually exists.)

This problem has only worsened with time. I have dug a hole for myself. The older I get, the more embarrassing it becomes for me to never have read certain titles. For example, I have never read Lord of the Flies. I don’t know what to tell you; it just never happened for me. But I can’t read it now. Logistically, I cannot carry a copy of Lord of the Flies around campus, read it during my spare time, let my peers see that thin volume in my bag. I mean, I could. But how embarrassing! The shame I would feel over people finding out that I have never read a novel that most eighth graders have under their belts far overshadows my desire to actually read it. And the longer I wait, the less likely I am to suck it up – to face my fear and just buy the damn book. At this point in my life, I have admitted defeat: I will never read Lord of the Flies. I’m sorry, William Golding.

For quite some time, my secret – not just that I have never read Lord of the Flies, but that the only classics I have read and remembered were written by William Shakespeare (and that was only because I had a crush on my high school English teacher) – remained safe. I nodded and smiled during those dreaded family discussions, happy to pretend I was every bit as literary as my grandma boasted, just as long as no one asked any questions (which they never did, as I don’t believe they ever read the classics either). I really thought I would get through my whole life this way – skating by, avoiding classics out of fear of anyone finding out I hadn’t read them yet, acting much smarter than I actually am. I really did. But over the summer, I made the mistake of dating someone who, though not an English or Writing major, was fairly intelligent. And because he was fairly intelligent, he assumed that I – being someone he was interested in – was also fairly intelligent. And because I am a Writing major and he is not, he assumed that I knew a great deal more than he did about books and writing, and that I had read – yes – the classics.

I instantly went through my entire book collection. I managed to find, scattered among piles of titles like The Thirty-Day Seduction and Boy Meets Girl, about fifteen classics, including Lolita, One Hundred Years of Solitude, Frankenstein, and Anna Karenina. I made a checklist and taped it to my wall, resolving to read them all by the end of the summer. I don’t think I need to tell you how that went. Suffice it to say that I read twenty-six pages of Nabokov – making sure to name-drop it in conversation with my ex-boyfriend’s mom, of course, before running, terrified, back into the open arms of How to Meet Cute Boys.

I am trying to reform, however. I signed up for a Novel course this semester, a course in which I am required to read seven classics. I have already failed to read Robinson Crusoe (please don’t tell Dr. Robertson). But I have high hopes for Gulliver’s Travels. You see, this class levels the playing field. In this class, no one has to know that these are perhaps the first classics I will ever read from beginning to end. No one has to know that, despite two years of Advanced Placement English, my literary repertoire consists of Chick-Lit and the Harry Potter series, not The Great Gatsby and The Old Man and the Sea. Maybe I can be a new person now. Maybe the next time my grandma asks me what I have read lately, I can say something along the lines of, “I read Paradise Lost recently, and you know what? It draws heavily upon its predecessors, Gulliver’s Travels and Robinson Crusoe.” And I won’t be lying. I’ll actually know.

2084

Imagine with me, if you will, a classroom roughly eight decades from now: children sitting at their desks, their laptops in front of them, fingers typing quickly away at the keys taking notes. Instead of turning to a selected page in their textbooks, they point and click, summoning an online text. There are no writing implements around; the idea of writing thoughts down on paper is obsolete. Why write something when you could type about it instead? There is no need to teach penmanship in elementary school, only typing etiquette. Literacy implies knowledge of basic functions on a computer. Reading is done only online, and books as we know them today are obsolete.

Before tossing this idea aside, consider this immutable fact: our society is becoming more and more centralized on the digital world. The more actions that can be controlled by a single electronic device, the better. Already we can use the same hand-held gadget to check email, send messages, take pictures, get directions and access any internet site. Naturally, the literary world has begun to follow suit; allowing the world to view a wide variety of book excerpts and other texts on the internet. The book reviewer has been released from his former newspaper/magazine niche and set loose on the world wide web, with opportunities to express his feelings to the literary community online through blogging (such as this).

Another factor to consider is the far off cry of environmentalists, which in recent years has become louder and more poignant. Rather than ignoring those who promote recycling and “save the fill-in-the-blank” advocates, society as a whole is realizing the sense that these people have been trying to instill in us the whole time. People are beginning to utilize recycling centers more frequently, and are starting to cut back on excessive paper usage. Logically, cutting back on paper usage means more trees have the opportunity to grow; taking part in photosynthesis, providing the world with oxygen. There really does not seem to be a down side to this. Combining this idea with the aforementioned digital fixation however, and soon the world is asking itself why it needs to use paper in the first place.

There would be no need to write letters with electronic communication, and no need to handwrite an essay for a class when it can be typed and submitted by email. Furthermore, when you can access books online and read from your computer screen, why would you need a physical book in your hands?

The demise of the book has already begun, and with it, arguably, the downfall of literacy. Our current generation is being shortchanged by a lack of literary focus and of predecessors who would rather read the quick notes on a book than actually sit down and read it. All throughout high school, I can remember my fellow classmates looking for any possible way to get out of reading for literature class. The text was always too long or too boring to keep their interest, so they would research the book online to absorb a basic plot summary for an exam.

These students are incredibly computer literate. These same classmates that could not suffer through The Great Gatsby could find at least seven online sites that gave you plot summaries, and even a YouTube video reenacting a scene from the book. Furthermore, they cannot put their thoughts on paper, but can journal about their classes on MySpace, using shorthanded and purposely butchered spellings of words that would have made F. Scott Fitzgerald cringe. I fear that since my high school years, these practices have only become worse.

I do not dislike the electronic literary world by any means; I simply mean to call attention to the idea of books becoming extinct. My personal nightmare begins in a setting much like the opening scenario, where people no longer read books. Period. It is hard- and dare I say it painful- to imagine a world where children must grow up with no concept of what it is to open a book for the first time. A generation that will never experience the aroma of a new book, bending back the spine to see the text in a clearer light.

By all means, keep pushing the envelope in broadening the literary world to reach as many people as possible. I only ask that printing continue. There is something about taking the time to read a brand new book that is so liberating, a feeling that too few people experience. Furthermore, the act of writing a story itself, the way the words look on paper, is another element that could never be replaced. Allowing the flow of ideas to come directly from your head to your pen that feels so organic rather than digitized. This is a feeling that should never be compromised, let alone become obsolete.

Those of you reading this blog—return to the book. Go back to the stories you once loved to read, sit in a comfy chair away from your computer and read them once more. Rather than checking the news headlines online, pick up that newspaper. Better yet, find a brand new text to absorb yourself in. In doing so, I hope  you remember what it was once like to read a book as a child, traveling to the world within the novel, allowing the imagination to run free without the aid of a computer screen. Long live the book, and let the print go on.

Red Inc. Going Live (Again) in 4 Days

So we’ve been gone for a little while, but for those of you keeping track this is still the literary voice of Susquehanna University on the web. In the next fifteen weeks you’ll hear new voices—analytical, opinionated, affectionate, irritated—all students in the Department of English and Creative Writing and all with something to say about literature, writers, books and the book business. If you like what you hear, or even if you don’t, feel free to talk back. We want to know who’s out there listening, who else cares about reading and writing as much as we do.

As the host here I tend to stay out of the way as much as possible. I’m here to help, direct, and defuse—if you have a problem or question feel free to contact me.

Ok now, let’s talk……

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/09/11/AR2008091103308.html?hpid=moreheadlines

Dana Gioia Retires. He was quite a  chap, after all. Check out his work for the National Endowment for the Arts; in retrospect, it is quite impressive.

I’m glad he’ll get some time to write for himself. 

—

The stars now rearrange themselves above you

but to no effect. Tonight,
only for tonight, their powers lapse,
and you must look toward earth. There will be
no comets now, no pointing star
to lead where you know you must go.

Look for smaller signs instead, the fine
disturbances of ordered things when suddenly
the rhythms of your expectation break
and in a moment’s pause another world
reveals itself behind the ordinary.

And one small detail out of place will be
enough to let you know: a missing ring,
a breath, a footfall or a sudden breeze,
a crack of light beneath a darkened door.

- Dana Gioia, from “Daily Horoscope”

– KW

Red Inc. Going Live in 5 Days

 

It’s true.  Any and all Susquehanna students willing to create a WordPress account and agree to the Blog Style Standards (forthcoming from Madeline and I) will be able and are strongly encouraged to submit to Red Inc. All those thoughts you’ve been holding back on the novel you’re reading for class? They’ve finally found a home. Your unedited rant on the ridiculous pretentiousness of Cleanth Brooks? Here’s a place to put it. And you can feel free to talk about the Twilight series, if you really have to. Even if you liked it.

Also check out the linked blogs on the right hand side of this post, where a growing list of SU Alum’s (and former Red Inc. contributors) can be found.

Get excited.

Kathryn