Welcome to my nightmare
The one where Bella finds out about Edward being omnomnom danger, has a profetic dream for no reason given, and I praise JK Rowling for her excellent writing style.
Unnecesary whining: 21.
Bad foreshadowing: 5.
General bitchiness: 7.
Mary Sue tendencies: 6.
Mineral eyes: 2.
Velvet voice of doom: 2.
Random misused words: 2.
Do I dazzle you?: 4.
Chagrin: 2.
Murmur: 3.
I dreamt that I was in the forest again. I encountered Jacob. He told me to run. The dog, Mike, was there too. Then, all of the sudden, Jacob was a red wolf. My god, you're terrible at foreshadowing. You should learn from Joanne Rowling. I know this is off-topic, but... She's, like, the queen of foreshadowing.
It needs to be more subtle. See, the brilliance of foreshadowing is that it isn't obvious at first sight. You read the book, you reread it a couple times...and then there it is. These are my favourites:
In St. Mungo’s, when they are going to visit Mr. Weasley- 'They climbed a flight of stairs and entered the "Creature-Induced Injuries" corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words 'DANGEROUS' DAI LLEWELLYN WARD: SERIOUS BITES.' If you put these words on a sign, they would read:
Creature-Induced Injuries
Dangerous
Dai Llewellyn Ward
Serious Bites
Take the first word of each of these and what do you get get? Creature Dangerous Dai Serious? No - Kreacher dangerous, Die Sirius...
- Order of the Phoenix
Dumbledore's favorite candy is sherbet lemons, and there's a novel called How to Suck a Sherbet Lemon about a gay kid at a private school.
- Philosopher's Stone
And, of course, this one.
Edward had fangs. LULZ.
Bad foreshadowing: 6.
Bad foreshadowing: 6.
I groaned, fell back, and rolled over onto my face, kicking off my boots. I was too uncomfortable to get anywhere near sleep, though. I rolled back over and unbuttoned my jeans, yanking them off awkwardly as I tried to stay horizontal. I could feel the braid in my hair, an uncomfortable ridge along the back of my skull. I turned onto my side and ripped the rubber band out, quickly combing through the plaits with my fingers. I pulled the pillow back over my eyes. Do you really have to write an entire paragraph to describe the fact that you undid your plaits?
I woke up. I took a shower. At 5.30. Ante meridiem.
 |
| What year is this? 1996? |
With another sigh, I turned to my computer. Naturally, the screen was covered in pop-up ads, because I'm retarded and/or don't know how to use a pop-up blocker. I sat in my hard folding chair and began closing all the little windows. Eventually I made it to my favorite search engine. I shot down a few more pop-ups and then typed in one word.
Vampire.
Please, don't you know how the Internet works? It's gonna take hours. Why don't you type vampire characteristics? Wouldn't that be much easier? God, you're so stupid.
I finally found a website with a list of vampire myths. I didn't find a single one that matched Edward's description. Bella, sweetie, do you know what a *myth* is?
a traditional or legendary story, usually concerning some being or hero or event, with or without a determinable basis of fact ora natural explanation, especially one that is concerned withdeities or demigods and explains some practice, rite, orphenomenon of nature.So, of course, not all myths have to be true, which is why there are so many versions of vampires around the world. Oh, and, you know what's funny? Bella actually did more research than Meyer.
Aggravated, I snapped off the computer's main power switch, not waiting to shut things down properly. Aggravated? I think this is thesaurus abuse in its purest form.
aggravated /ˈæɡrəˌveɪtɪd/adj
- (of a criminal offence) made more serious by its circumstances
I believe she was going for 'exasperated' there.
Randomly misused words: 3.
Through my irritation, I felt overwhelming embarrassment. What? Why? It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me? I've been wondering exactly the same thing. I decided that most of the blame belonged on the doorstep of the town of Forks — and the entire sodden Olympic Peninsula, for that matter. Sure, Bella, blame an entire peninsula for your stupidity (what?).
It was overcast, but not raining yet. I ignored my truck and started east on foot, angling across Charlie's
yard toward the ever-encroaching forest. It's your damn yard. Are you still 'not feeling at home'? I went to the forest completely by myself, of course, because that's the only logical thing to do when you are a clumsy girl with a poor sense of orientation and you know there are vampires on the loose. Bella's stupidity fascinates me.
First, I had to decide if it was possible that what Jacob had said about the Cullens could be true. Immediately my mind responded with a resounding negative. It was silly and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions. But what, then? I asked myself. There was no rational explanation for how I was alive at this moment. I listed again in my head the things I'd observed myself: the impossible speed and strength, the eye color shifting from black to gold and back again, the inhuman beauty, the pale, frigid skin. And more — small things that registered slowly — how they never seemed to eat, One thought: why do the Cullens buy food but never eat it? It would be better to not buy food; everyone would assume that they're just too snobbish to eat in the cafetería. the disturbing grace with which they moved. And the way be sometimes spoke, with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the style of a turn-of-the-century novel than that of a twenty-first-century classroom. 1) Typo: it's supposed to be he. 2) When, exactly, has he spoken with 'unfamiliar cadences', as you call it? He had skipped class the day we'd done blood typing. He hadn't said no to the beach trip till he heard where we were going. He seemed to know what everyone around him was thinking… except me. Hey! Maybe Edward can't read Bella's thoughts because she doesn't have any! He had told me he was the villain, dangerous…I kept thinking, Edward is a vampire. Edward is a vampire. Ohmygod Edward is a vampire. We know. It says so in the cover of the book. Big deal.
One thought, Stephenie: when the first two hundred pages of your book involve discovering what one character is, don't stamp it on the book cover.
And then the most important question of all. What was I going to do if it was true?
If Edward was a vampire — I could hardly make myself think the words — then what should I do? Involving someone else was definitely out. I couldn't even believe myself; anyone I told would have me committed. But Bella, that makes no sense. If you're thinking of Edward being a vampire, you're already thinking of the word "vampire".
So Bella decided she didn't care Edward was a vampire, she went home and we got - holy shit - the first description of her.
It's chapter 7. Until, now we've seen thousands of descriptions of Edward. What do we know about Bella? She's got brown hair and her eyes aren't blue. Ya know, I imagined Bella's hair as being a brownish shade of black, which is the exact same colour as mine. She really is a self-insert.
The next day it was sunny. Hallellujah!. I skipped to the window, 'Cause that's what a klutz does. stunned to see that there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and those there were just fleecy little white puffs that couldn't possibly be carrying any rain. I opened the window — surprised when it opened silently, without sticking, not having opened it in who knows how many years Ooh! Sparkledward has oiled her window! The staking begins! — and sucked in the relatively dry air. It was nearly warm and hardly windy at all. My blood was electric in my veins. Let me plug my laptop charger in her nose!
I ate breakfast cheerily, How do you eat breakfast cheerily? That's only slightl less ridiculous than the time she ate one cheerio at a time. watching the dust moats I do not think it means what you think it means.
moat /məʊt/n
- a wide water-filled ditch surrounding a fortified place, such as a castle
- (transitive) to surround with or as if with a moat: a moated grange
Etymology: 14th Century: from Old French motte moundHint: try 'mote'. I might rename this to 'I do not think it means what you think it means' out of the pure awesomeness of Íñigo Montoya.
I do not think it means what you think it means: 4.
stirring in the sunlight that streamed in the back window. Charlie called out a goodbye, and I heard the cruiser pull away from the house. I hesitated on my way out the door, hand on my rain jacket. It would be tempting fate to leave it home. With a sigh, I folded it over my arm and stepped out into the brightest light I'd seen in months.
Everyone was in t-shirts, some even in shorts though the temperature couldn't be over sixty. Except that sixty is a pretty okay temperature - at least where I live -, specially considering that it's, what, late February? Early March? I don't know, your timeline is so inconsistent. Then again, Bella is from Phoenix, but her constant whining about the weather gets on my nerves. Mike was coming toward me in khaki shorts and a striped Rugby shirt, waving.
"What did you do yesterday?" His tone was just a bit too proprietary. OR he's being friendly. I'll remember that when Edward becomes possesive in Eclipse.
"I mostly worked on my essay." I didn't add that I was finished with it — no need to sound smug. 'Cause that's not at all what you are. I talked to Mike about the essay. The topic I'd chosen was "Was Shakespeare's treatment of women misogynist?" LOL. I bet the conclussion was, 'It was misogynist, but that's okay, because woman aren't people anyway!'. Mike asked me out. AGAIN.
Mary Sue tendencies: 6.
I told him Jessica liked him. He was unaware. LOL.
Jessica talked about going to Port Angeles to buy some dresses. I, as per usual, wasn't listening to her.
General bitchiness: 7.
The Cullens weren't at school. I whined about it. Angela asked a few quiet questions about the Macbeth paper, How the hell do you ask a quiet question? which I answered as naturally as I could while spiraling downward in misery. You! Are! Pathetic!
I wrote an email for my mum. I've been here for over one month, I've written two emails to mum, and the last one consists of five full sentences. She's my best friend.
I decided to read a Jane Austen book because I'm supposed to be smart and well-read but don't show it too much, but in chapter three I remembered that the hero was called Edward. So... it's one of your favourite books, and you don't know what the main character is called? Listen, guys, I've never read Sense and Sensibility, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Since I believe research is good, I read the first three chapters. The word 'Edward' appears on page three of chapter three. She didn't even remember the name; she only knew because she read it. Everything reminded me of Edward. Go to the doctor, you have a problem. You really do.
I watched TV with Charlie after dinner, for something to do. There wasn't anything on I wanted to watch, but he knew I didn't like baseball, so he turned it to some mindless sitcom that neither of us enjoyed. He
seemed happy, though, to be doing something together. And it felt good, despite my depression, Jesus. to make him happy.
Unnecesary whining: 22.
The phrasing of that is so awkward. Try this: He seemed happy to be doing something together, though, and it felt good to make him happy.
"Dad," I said during a commercial, "Jessica and Angela are going to look at dresses for the dance tomorrow night in Port Angeles, and they wanted me to help them choose… do you mind if I go with them?"
"Jessica Stanley?" he asked.
"And Angela Weber." I sighed as I gave him the details. How dare my father want to know who my friends are?
He was confused. "But you're not going to the dance, right?"
"No, Dad, but I'm helping them find dresses — you know, giving them constructive criticism." I wouldn't have to explain this to a woman.
"Well, okay." He seemed to realize that he was out of his depth with the girlie stuff. "It's a school night, though."
"We'll leave right after school, so we can get back early. You'll be okay for dinner, right?"
"Bells, I fed myself for seventeen years before you got here," he reminded me. He has a point.
"I don't know how you survived," I muttered, then added more clearly, "I'll leave some things for cold-cut
sandwiches in the fridge, okay? Right on top." Smug, smug, smug.
It was sunny again in the morning. I awakened with renewed hope that I grimly tried to suppress. You're insufferable. Stop whining.
Unnecesary whining: 23.
I dressed for the warmer weather in a deep blue V-neck blouse — something I'd worn in the dead of winter in Phoenix. Really? I don't know, I've never been to Phoenix, but that seems unlikely. It's the dead of the winter right now, so let's look at the weather forecast.
TueJan 8
72°
46°
Partly Cloudy
- CHANCE OF RAIN:
- 0%
- WIND:
- ENE at 7 mph
I left for Port Angeles, excited to fnally get out of my shitty town.
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