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Description

[re-write]

    “Who is that?” There is a moment of pause, and I’m taken aback when I realize that it was I that had spoken. I hadn’t realized I was staring at him until now.
    Jessica glances up from her lunch and squints, unsure to whom I’m referring to. “Hm?”
    “That guy sitting alone there. Who is he?”
    He is a slight, sickly looking boy, sitting hunched over his lunch tray in the far corner of the cafeteria. His fringe falls in unkempt auburn wisps across his forehead, as though even his own hair is fragile. In fact, every aspect about him seems almost insubstantial, glass-like. I half expected a breeze to blow in through the back door and send him fluttering to the linoleum floor, destined to shatter like a christmas ornament. Faintly, I can see electrical-wire veins winding up his ashen wrists and neck, leading up to the delicate curve of his lips and the bruise-like circles beneath two blood-shot, red-rimmed eyes. They’re curious, too: slanted, long-lashed, melancholy, and the most striking shade of yellow I have ever seen—more fit for a jar of honey or whisky than the eyes of an invalid. And yet, he was one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen.
    Jessica follows my gaze, and then nods a few times—to herself more than I—as though everything makes sense now that she knew the object of my inquiries. “Oh! Oh, yes, that’s Edward Cullen.”
    “Edward?”
    “Uh-huh. Moved here with his foster-dad and siblings last year. Bit of an odd duck, isn’t he?”
    I nod as I struggle to open my milk box. “What’s the matter with him? He looks—off.”
    “Off? Yeah, well he’s supposed to have some sort of degenerative disease—something called…” she chews on the end of her fork a moment as she tries desperately to rummage through her memory.
    “Friedreich's Ataxia,” Angela chimes in from across the table.
    “Yeah, that’s it. It’s a nerve thing, right?”
    Angela nods. “That’s why he looks like that. I talked to him about it once, since I did a project on genetic disorders in Bio last year. He’s on a lot of pills and medication—very high doses Proponol, and he has to go to Seattle for iron removal treatment every few weeks, too. There’s no cure for it, you see.”
    “Uh-huh,” says Jessica. “Misses a shit-ton of school.”
    I frown. “Oh...God, that’s terrible. Why does he even go to school then?”
    “Don’t know,” replies Jessica vaguely. “He never really talks to people—has this terrible stutter, ‘cause of his condition and all that. He just kind of sits back and watches people. He seems content enough, I guess, since I’ve tried to talk to him before and he just stammers and stares. He twitches a lot, too: makes you kind of uncomfortable while you’re talking to him. See? Look, he’s doing that right now. I don’t know, he just looks at you funny, and I guess that’s why people don’t really hang out with him much.”
    “And his siblings?”
    “They kind of looked like him, too—kinda pale and twitchy, but I guess that’s just genetic. Two of them graduated last year, and I don’t really see any of them around much. But yeah.” Jessica chews her sandwich as though to punctuate her answer. “He’s kind of weird, but you can’t really blame him, huh?”
Just then, the boy looks up from his untouched supper and looks at me. There’s an odd expression upon his high-boned face, a quirk in his brow, a knowing flash in his eyes, and I immediatly look away. “Yes. Can’t blame him.”

---

So! I've gotten, over the past few years, a few requests to critique/rewrite bits of twilight or improve characterization. Since I've been having writer's block, I took it as a fun challenge, and decided to start with one of the most problematic characters in an already...shall we say, objectionable book. Now, Stephanie Meyer's descriptions and explanations for vampires, I think, are very glossy and absurd. The idea that these "teenaged" vampires eternally go to high school is ridiculous as it is, skipping school to go "hiking" whenever it's sunny. She glamorizes the idea of vampirism, while I decided to go for a more "curse" or "disease" approach. I've always looked at vampires as half-alive creatures. Blood is the only thing that can sustain them, but no living creature save mosquitoes and perhaps leeches can survive on a purely sanguinary diet without health deterioration. That would explain the pale skin and dark circles beneath their eyes. Because of their heightened senses and keen awareness of human blood, I would think the Cullens, in a crowded environment, would appear incredibly twitchy, erratic and anxious. With all of these factors, illness would be a perfect excuse and explanation for prying eyes.

Now, I think it's silly that the Cullen children go to high school even though they hate it, so I think of it as optional. Almost all of the children choose to go about their lives comfortably apart from humanity, though Edward chooses to stay in the high-school environment because of his fascination with human beings, his desire to return back to this state, and his feeling of isolation. He is fixated on the idea of the beauty of transience, of living a life short and full of life and passion and love, which is an emotion rather dulled and convoluted after Vampirism. I think that would be an interesting character point, and would explain why he's so fiercely opposed to Bella becoming a vampire: he sees his condition as a curse, as only partially living, and sees aging and death as something beautiful and natural.

Anyway, blabbing aside, I enjoyed taking the clusterfuck that is Twilight and extrapolating upon the possible merits that were pissed away by the shoddy writing and non-existent shallow characterization. I was a big fan of the series in junior high (don't judge me), so it was actually kind of fun going back and futzing around with these ideas. I think there are a lot of cool opportunities with any sort of vampire story.

art, writing, new ideas (c) me

basic character & concept (c) meyer

Description

[re-write]

    “Who is that?” There is a moment of pause, and I’m taken aback when I realize that it was I that had spoken. I hadn’t realized I was staring at him until now.
    Jessica glances up from her lunch and squints, unsure to whom I’m referring to. “Hm?”
    “That guy sitting alone there. Who is he?”
    He is a slight, sickly looking boy, sitting hunched over his lunch tray in the far corner of the cafeteria. His fringe falls in unkempt auburn wisps across his forehead, as though even his own hair is fragile. In fact, every aspect about him seems almost insubstantial, glass-like. I half expected a breeze to blow in through the back door and send him fluttering to the linoleum floor, destined to shatter like a christmas ornament. Faintly, I can see electrical-wire veins winding up his ashen wrists and neck, leading up to the delicate curve of his lips and the bruise-like circles beneath two blood-shot, red-rimmed eyes. They’re curious, too: slanted, long-lashed, melancholy, and the most striking shade of yellow I have ever seen—more fit for a jar of honey or whisky than the eyes of an invalid. And yet, he was one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen.
    Jessica follows my gaze, and then nods a few times—to herself more than I—as though everything makes sense now that she knew the object of my inquiries. “Oh! Oh, yes, that’s Edward Cullen.”
    “Edward?”
    “Uh-huh. Moved here with his foster-dad and siblings last year. Bit of an odd duck, isn’t he?”
    I nod as I struggle to open my milk box. “What’s the matter with him? He looks—off.”
    “Off? Yeah, well he’s supposed to have some sort of degenerative disease—something called…” she chews on the end of her fork a moment as she tries desperately to rummage through her memory.
    “Friedreich's Ataxia,” Angela chimes in from across the table.
    “Yeah, that’s it. It’s a nerve thing, right?”
    Angela nods. “That’s why he looks like that. I talked to him about it once, since I did a project on genetic disorders in Bio last year. He’s on a lot of pills and medication—very high doses Proponol, and he has to go to Seattle for iron removal treatment every few weeks, too. There’s no cure for it, you see.”
    “Uh-huh,” says Jessica. “Misses a shit-ton of school.”
    I frown. “Oh...God, that’s terrible. Why does he even go to school then?”
    “Don’t know,” replies Jessica vaguely. “He never really talks to people—has this terrible stutter, ‘cause of his condition and all that. He just kind of sits back and watches people. He seems content enough, I guess, since I’ve tried to talk to him before and he just stammers and stares. He twitches a lot, too: makes you kind of uncomfortable while you’re talking to him. See? Look, he’s doing that right now. I don’t know, he just looks at you funny, and I guess that’s why people don’t really hang out with him much.”
    “And his siblings?”
    “They kind of looked like him, too—kinda pale and twitchy, but I guess that’s just genetic. Two of them graduated last year, and I don’t really see any of them around much. But yeah.” Jessica chews her sandwich as though to punctuate her answer. “He’s kind of weird, but you can’t really blame him, huh?”
Just then, the boy looks up from his untouched supper and looks at me. There’s an odd expression upon his high-boned face, a quirk in his brow, a knowing flash in his eyes, and I immediatly look away. “Yes. Can’t blame him.”

---

So! I've gotten, over the past few years, a few requests to critique/rewrite bits of twilight or improve characterization. Since I've been having writer's block, I took it as a fun challenge, and decided to start with one of the most problematic characters in an already...shall we say, objectionable book. Now, Stephanie Meyer's descriptions and explanations for vampires, I think, are very glossy and absurd. The idea that these "teenaged" vampires eternally go to high school is ridiculous as it is, skipping school to go "hiking" whenever it's sunny. She glamorizes the idea of vampirism, while I decided to go for a more "curse" or "disease" approach. I've always looked at vampires as half-alive creatures. Blood is the only thing that can sustain them, but no living creature save mosquitoes and perhaps leeches can survive on a purely sanguinary diet without health deterioration. That would explain the pale skin and dark circles beneath their eyes. Because of their heightened senses and keen awareness of human blood, I would think the Cullens, in a crowded environment, would appear incredibly twitchy, erratic and anxious. With all of these factors, illness would be a perfect excuse and explanation for prying eyes.

Now, I think it's silly that the Cullen children go to high school even though they hate it, so I think of it as optional. Almost all of the children choose to go about their lives comfortably apart from humanity, though Edward chooses to stay in the high-school environment because of his fascination with human beings, his desire to return back to this state, and his feeling of isolation. He is fixated on the idea of the beauty of transience, of living a life short and full of life and passion and love, which is an emotion rather dulled and convoluted after Vampirism. I think that would be an interesting character point, and would explain why he's so fiercely opposed to Bella becoming a vampire: he sees his condition as a curse, as only partially living, and sees aging and death as something beautiful and natural.

Anyway, blabbing aside, I enjoyed taking the clusterfuck that is Twilight and extrapolating upon the possible merits that were pissed away by the shoddy writing and non-existent shallow characterization. I was a big fan of the series in junior high (don't judge me), so it was actually kind of fun going back and futzing around with these ideas. I think there are a lot of cool opportunities with any sort of vampire story.

art, writing, new ideas (c) me

basic character & concept (c) meyer