BLOGGING BREAKING DAWN, pt. 45: Let Garrett Be Garrett

Last time, Caius interrogated various ancillary characters who continued to affirm that the Cullens were innocent. If the infant-sized glove does not fit Renesmee, you must acquit! This time, he continues to realize his dream of being a lawyer (in elementary school Caius starred as head prosecutor Peter Pan in a mock trial of Captain Hook) until Garrett interrupts him and stages an impromptu Glenn Beck episode on the battlefield, bringing everything to a screeching halt. Seriously.

Chapter 37 (fucking cont'd): Contrivances

Aro starts saying that even though no law has been broken, Renesmee may pose a danger still. Maggie, whoever that is, shakes her head “with slow anger.” I FEEL U GURL. But here is where I will give this book a little credit. We have been enduring, for hundreds of pages, a deluge of rhetorical conceits. (Like: In this chapter, Bella just watched Aro watch Garrett subdue Kate knowing that Aro had knowledge of Kate's power, which he learned through Edward's memories, and Bella wondered what Aro's reaction to Garrett's overcoming said power would be—if he would realize Bella's shield power was so potent or if he would draw some other conclusion. YES THAT IS HOW S. MEYER WRITES THINGS.) The rhetorical conceit that Aro now introduces is kind of an interesting one: for centuries, he says vampires stayed secretive out of “convenience.” But now, it's a matter of national security. “The raw, angry century has given birth to weapons of such power that they endanger even immortals,” he says. Therefore, he seems to suggest, desperate times call for desperate measures; the ambiguity surrounding RNSM cannot be allowed. Aro is trying to ram through his very own Patriot Act.

(The USA PATRIOT Act is an acronym: Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism. Did you know that? What would the acronym be for the VAMPIRE act? Assuming the Volturi/S. Meyer had their act together enough to form a coherent system of government, I mean. Violence Against Many People Is Really Essential?)

Garrett, the American Revolutionary vampire (never forget) steps forward and asks to speak. Aro gives him permission, and he proceeds to get all Patrick Henry on our asses. It's sort of cool, in a way, after you shake out the unavoidable Tea Party associations that now come with his kind of rhetoric; he speaks to the Volturi's witnesses, of whom he recognizes several fellow nomads who “answer to no one,” and indicates that the Volturi are trying to broaden the scope of government. Again, interesting. But what is it doing here?

(Also, uh, is this book becoming a weird criticism of the Bush presidency, post 9-11? It came out while he was still in office. However, book three opened with a quote from Bush defender Orson Scott Card, so maybe it's just supposed to be a hazy rejoinder against general tyranny in the same way that Tea Party types can say we should put Mexicans and gays in concentration camps or whatever and then say Obama is the Orwellian one.)

Garrett's speech touches off the penultimate arc of this scene—something else happens soon that negates all of it, but we'll get to that—so it's a little unclear to me why he has such an important role. Why isn't this critical speech being spoken by Edward? Carlisle? Bella? Our main characters stand aside while Garrett and Aro write an AP US History final exam. It's totally bizarre and wrong.

Of course, the same old sexual politics we have been dealing with for a thousand pages resurface in Garrett's speech, too. He tells the witnesses that the Cullen family's (he stresses the word “family” over “coven” like a true values voter) golden eyes are a testament to their bond, that they have found something better than “mere gratification of desire.” Uh-huh. But the overall appeal is a good one. “The Volturi care nothing for the death of the child,” he says. “They seek the death of our free will.” He only uses the word “freedom” once, and never mentions Obamacare! Bully for you, Garrett!

At the end, Aro calls Garrett a “revolutionary,” which Garrett bristles at. “Are you my king?” he asks. YA BURNT ARO. Aro says he was only referring to his time of birth: “Still a patriot, I see.” S. Meyer clearly thinks that basing Garrett in the Revolutionary War era is the most clever thing she has ever done, and she would like to be congratulated for it. But you know what? Now that I think about it, it actually MIGHT BE the most clever thing she has ever done. So bully for you, too, Stephenie.

If Aro is the George Bush or whoever in this situation, he makes the perfect next move: he asks the people (his crowd of witnesses). Invoking regressive public opinion has been the bread & butter of the Right for years—that well is only now running dry. But anyway he throws in some push-poll* language just in case: “Do we put our world in jeopardy to preserve their family intact?” That's a redundant phrase, Aro. A couple of vampires testify that they think Garrett is right, and then they run away. Hahaha okay, bye guys? The rest of the Volturi witnesses stay and don't say anything, and Bella guesses that a few are just too confused to decide whether or not they want to stick around. TELL ME ABOUT IT!

(*For the uninitiated, a push-poll is a political dirty trick used to A. bolster opinion in your favor and B. create unfavorable associations for your opponent. If Michele Bachmann were to pay for a poll with a question like “If Barack Obama paid for your daughter's abortion, murdering the beautiful child growing inside of her, would you be more or less likely to vote for him?” then that would be a push-poll.)

Aro wanders back to his gang and asks them if they think preserving their world is worth dying for. They creepily whisper affirmative responses in unison. Then, Aro calls a meeting with his brothers, and Bella seizes the brief opportunity to tell Jacob about running with RNSM and all the plans she's been making. (Dude is probably so excited. Bella tells him that she chose him because he loves RNSM so much. UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH. FUCK YOU FOREVER S. MEYER) Of course, this is also the first Edward has heard of Bella's back up plan, and he watches in horror. Bella confesses she had to keep it from him to keep it from Aro, and Edward has a look of agonized resignation as he figures it all out. Good luck, Robert Pattinson.

Then Bella tells Jacob he will always be her best man, whatever that means, and “a teardrop the size of a baseball” comes out of his eye. How do you not burst out laughing when you see a baseball sized tear? And then the most insane fucking thing ever happens: Edward puts his head against Jacob's wolf-shoulder and says: “Goodbye, Jacob, my brother...my son.”

AHHHHHHHHH WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCK? This is some Oral Biography of Buster Casey shit, you guys. Edward, that is the grossest thing I have ever heard.

“Is there no hope, then?” Carlisle whispered. There was no fear in his voice. Just determination and acceptance.

Carlisle is the least father-like father figure ever. He's taking his lead from Bella now? God. His response touches off a bunch of murmured goodbyes amongst the Cullens and their allies, and again Garrett manages to steal the show:

“If we live through this,” Garrett whispered to Kate, “I'll follow you anywhere, woman.”
“Now he tells me,” she muttered.

I sort of love that? But again, what is it doing here? I mean, I know I have given up on liking any of our main characters, but has S. Meyer given up too?

[Like this blog post? Click here to tweet a link to it!]

BLOGGING BREAKING DAWN, pt. 44: Feeling Yourself Disintegrate

Help promote this blog! Click here to (theoretically) automatically post a link to your Twitter. Someone try it, I want to see what it does!

Last time, the bottom dropped out AGAIN. I keep thinking it can't get any worse, any more poorly thought out or incoherent, and then it does. Most recently, we learned that the wolves aren't actually wolves but are actually shape-shifters who chose the form of wolves. Does that do anything for you? Did you derive any satisfaction from learning it?

Throwing a bunch of ideas at a wall and seeing what sticks is a perfectly fine thing to do in private. But you don't just just take the WHOLE WALL and EVERYTHING ON THE FLOOR and just publish it without considering ANYTHING, Stephenie! Did you ever stop and think that real other humans would have to read this?

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? THIS IS SOOOOO AWFUL. THIS IS THE FUCKING WORST SHIT I HAVE EVER READ. KILL ME!

My big problem used to be that I did not understand why no parent had ever complained about the regressive sexual politics and subliminal messages in Twilight. I am still outraged at that, but my primary issue now is more basic: I do not understand how or why someone allowed this to be published. That Breaking Dawn got published makes me question ever wanting to be a writer. I thought that unlike a lot of industries, publishing would be a meritocracy. It can't be. Either it's random and cruel and Hobbesian, or S. Meyer is somebody's cousin. Like a young baseball fan who finds out his favorite player is on steroids, my worldview is shaken.

When I was a senior in high school, I felt like my parents deliberately distanced themselves from me, emotionally, in order to aid in the transition. I don't know if they really did, or did it consciously, or if I unconsciously did it myself, but anyway this is sort of how I feel about Twilight now. For a while, in the middle, I could see how people liked it; I can't anymore. I feel lost; I'm questioning past defenses. You want to say Twilight is gay and vampires don't sparkle? Fine. That's a more defensible position than mine.

Chapter 37 (cont'd): Contrivances

So here's what this chapter is: it's a series of mini-trials, with Caius and Aro acting as prosecutors from the law firm of Dewey, Cheetum, & Howe). They interrogate various characters we don't care about, looking for an excuse to destroy the Cullens. When Aro informs Caius that the werewolves aren't werewolves but are actually shapeZZZZZZZZZZZ—I fell angrily asleep for a second there, sorry—he also gives his brother a meaningful glance while telling him not to waste time with “false accusations.” Bella realizes that they are going down a checklist, looking for an effective strategy. This is also what S. Meyer is doing. And it isn't working for anybody.

Caius brings Irina forward again and interrogates her; he asks about her motivation for coming to the Volturi in the first place—did she have it in for Carlisle? She explains that the Cullens sided with the wolfpack—sorry, the SHAPE-SHIFTER PACK—over the killing of Laurent, and that's why she got mad and called 5-0. Bitches be crazy, right? (Why couldn't it have been a dude who impulsively ratted out the Cullens?)

“So the Cullens sided with the shape-shifters against our own kind—against the friend of a friend, even,” Caius said.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury: do you give a shit about any of this? Irina makes a stand though, and says she bears no ill-will against the Cullens or the wolves—I MEAN SHAPE-SHIFTERS—now. And then she seals the deal: “There was no crime. There's no valid reason for you to continue here.” That does it for Caius, and he signals a few Volturi members who swoop in and immediately kill Irina. Everybody stands there shocked while Caius pulls out a “carved and ornate” silver object which basically turns out to be a super-powerful zippo lighter that he uses to burn Irina's remains. Okay, so long Irina! Whoa!

(I mean, who the fuck is Irina anyway, but at least S. Meyer killed SOMEBODY.)

If you remember, which you probably don't and why would you, Kate and Tanya are Irina's sisters. So they charge forward in a rage and the Cullens move to stop them. Rosalie gets flattened by Kate's shock power (she has a shock power, by the way), and so does Emmett (“Don't tase me bro!”-Emmett). But then Garrett locks his arms around her, enduring shock after shock until Bella finesses the fabric of her shield between them and Kate is subdued. The only problem is: Bella already did that shit! She converted her dome-shield into a shield that wrapped around each person a few pages ago! And that should have protected them from each other's powers in the first place! UGH OH WELL.

And my attention returned to the weight of the stares that pressed down on our moment of chaos.

YEESH. Bella wonders if the Volturi understood what happened with her moving her shield between Garrett and Kate and all. Hey, why aren't you worried about US? There are other stares pressing down on this moment of chaos, girl! Just as confused as the readers are the mob of witnesses the Volturi brought along. Bella feels like Irina's swift death unsettled them; she watches Aro glance worriedly behind him. “His need for an audience had backfired badly.” Ha! I'm not saying EVERY SENTENCE in this chapter also applies as a criticism for S. Meyer, but uh, most of them do. Still surveying the other nameless, shapeless vampires, Bella assumes that after they've all been killed the Volturi will have to track down and kill their own witnesses, too. For them, and for Jacob, RNSM, Alice, and Jasper, Bella says, “Demetri had to die.” She cares about the witnesses, too? Oh my god! It only took four books for Bella to learn compassion for strangers!

Caius moves on to Amun, while Edward's fists ball up so tight “it looked like the bones in his knuckles would split through his diamond-hard skin.” Is that supposed to be sexy? Because that strikes me as an extraordinarily childish gesture. I'm picturing Edward as a Peanuts character. Amun boringly affirms the details of the Cullen story, and then asks Aro if he can leave. “I gave my witness. I have no more business here,” he says. Good instinct, Amun. Get out while you still can.

So there are two ways they can play the character of Amun—these roles were apparently cast, which means Melissa Rosenberg resisted the (I'm sure overwhelming) temptation to cut the last 300 pages out (but Bill Condon can still do the noble thing and spare us)—either play him as a rational actor, staying out of the conflict for good reason, or play him as an over-the-top coward. An over-the-top Arab coward, no less. Which is why I am certain the second way is how they'll go with it.

The great Wendell Pierce (of Treme and The Wire and the upcoming Horrible Bosses) is, as it turn out, playing J. Jenks in Breaking Dawn pt. 2. Which means the black actors in the series so far have been the guy who hits Bella with a car, the bad vampire who gets ripped apart by wolves, and the criminal ID forger. GUHHHH thanks, Summit Entertainment!

Here, Read This Infuriating Fucking Thing

Yesterday Slate published a bewildering, rambling missive from two YA authors who discussed their craft, or, you know, lack thereof. This morning many YA experts are complaining about this entitled, bizarre, loathing-filled article (which is probably why Slate ran it in the first place), but I thought we should discuss it a little here. I'm not really sure how to summarize this thing, though. Here's how it starts:

Young-adult books are being sold to an audience that can't vote, yet they're being written by people commonly referred to on the Internet as "the olds." We should know. We're two of them. Both of us have made our living writing. One of us in journalism (Grady) and the other in literary fiction (Katie). But then Katie's publisher pitched her on doing a Y.A. series, mostly because she's somewhat immature and teenager-ish anyway, so why not turn that weakness into a strength?

One of the authors has a background in journalism? ARE YOU SURE? What the fuck kind of paragraph is that? At first it sounds like this is going to be a piece about how ironic it is that old people write about kids. Is that ironic, Alanis? Did you know that Chappelle's Show had some white writers? But that thesis, if it is one, is jettisoned. In favor of...uhhh?

And, besides, there's no shame in Y.A. these days. Since 1999, the market has grown by 25 percent, and all the big authors are doing it: Patterson, Grisham, Bushnell. At this point, the next likely candidate is a Y.A. book from Jonathan Franzen. It would be very meta: The Corruptions. By the time the kid finished it, he'd be 35.

I'm 60% sure that is supposed to be a joke, but it's going in so many directions I can't make heads or tails of it. And the writing gets way worse.

Our series, The Magnolia League, is, in some ways, the high-school experience we never had, where everyone is witty and good-looking and their problems are more like, "My evil grandmother is torturing my dead mom's soul!" rather than, "I have a lot of zits." It's an opportunity to relive high school in a more perfect manner.

"In a more perfect manner"? I'm having trouble imagining an uglier phrase, not to mention the issue with something being "more perfect." And here's where it becomes most relevant to our interests:

It would be creepy if we included explicit sex scenes with glistening young skin and heaving young bosoms, but we keep it on the clean side. This isn't Twilight. No slutty werewolves here.

Did you just scream? It's okay if you did. I'll let literary agent Sarah LaPolla take this one:

Amen! They go on to write about how much they hate writing the few sex scenes they do have in their books, and how they made fun of each other for how bad the writing is and use the worst lines as email signatures. Way to own your own writing, you fucking cowards! Holy shit! AND THEN they talk about the "crazy" timetable for writing YA fiction and how they barely have any time to write more than two drafts before it has to be published. They say YA isn't like their MFA background with all the rumination and the literary effort and all that bullshit. (Is this article hating on YA fiction or serious fiction or both? Why are they writers?)

But readers in Y.A. don't care about rumination. They don't want you to pore over your sentences trying to find the perfect turn of phrase that evokes the exact color of the shag carpeting in your living room when your dad walked out on your mom one autumn afternoon in 1973.

OK, so I'm 24 and I can barely remember being 20 but I know for sure my teenage self would have resented such a statement. My nine-year-old self would have resented it! From there, they talk about how much they hated being part of the "real" literary world, and how getting messages from fans on Facebook is better than being "anointed by The New Yorker." ("Who care about awards?"-A guy who just lost an award) There's a confusingly-worded section where it sounds like they say they want "to make out with" their fans, but I'm pretty sure they're talking about their former, adult fans, not their new teenage fans. And then they compare being a YA writer to being the socially acceptable version of a pedophile! Really?! Yes, really. That happens:

It's sort of weird how, at a time when a reliable scare story is, 'Are internet predators coming for your children?' that we are being paid good money to be literary predators and come for people's children. Only we do it with a nice marketing campaign and books about Southern debutantes with occult powers, rather than an old van with the windows blacked out.

The other day I walked past a girl with a t-shirt from like, her high school's graduation. It read 2011 Trojans: We Made It Thru. My point is, people need to think about how the words coming out of their mouths actually sound. Go read this alienating, horrible piece of shit at Slate, and then read the comments! They're great!

(Thanks, Kim and Mufasa)

BLOGGING BREAKING DAWN, pt. 43: Fluorescent Half Dome

As the prolonged standoff between the Volturi and the Cullens continues, I continue to ask: how sure are we these dudes are evil? We are told so by Edward in New Moon, sort of, I mean he kind of implies it at us, but the evidence did not really come down in his favor. Back then, Aro and the gang were nothing but reasonable—they tried to talk Edward out of suicide, even!—and they let our heroes go in peace. Yes, they did kill a bunch of innocent humans right after that, but let's fast forward to Breaking Dawn: the Cullens are now allowing their many guests to hunt all over Washington and Oregon, killing innocent humans, too. On balance, the Cullens and the Volturi are doing equal amounts of evil.

(And in fact, it is indicated somewhere that older vampires don't have to feed very much, right? So the gang of recruits on the Cullen side is probably doing more damage to the human population than the Volturi are, at the moment.)

Putting humans aside, let's look at vampire-on-vampire violence. In these books, the Volturi have killed exactly one vampire: Bree Tanner. Edward has murdered Victoria and James, Jacob has murdered Laurent, Seth Clearwater has murdered Riley, and the rest of the Cullens and wolves have murdered an indeterminate number of newborns. Advantage: Volturi.

Of course, the Volturi could prove me wrong. They could bust out some straight-up evil shit in this chapter. Except no, spoiler alert: instead they listen to Carlisle and behave reasonably. WHOOPS.

S. Meyer seems to think it is enough to hear from Edward that the Volturi's thoughts are evil. This is a relatively typical religious point of view—that sinning in your mind is just as bad. Sorry Stephenie, but that is not enough for me. Actions speak louder than thoughts. Even for Edward.

Chapter 36 (cont'd): Bloodust

So Irina gets brought forward to testify about the baby she saw, and of course she looks over at Renesmee and is like oh, uh, she looks bigger! Caius, a Volturi brother who has been important for the last ten seconds and will continue to be for the next five, gets really angry. Aro steps back in, takes Irina's hand, and confirms that the child in her memory is smaller. Well yeah, eye-witness testimony is notoriously unreliable, Aro! Dude should know that by now. I mean, I know Irina is right, but this moment of hesitation on Aro's part means there probably won't be a fight. Carlisle sighs in relief, and I just sigh.

Aro insists on getting “every facet” of the truth, and asks to read Edward's thoughts. Aro is totes a Twi-hard; he wants to see the bed-breaking sex scene too! As Edward steps forward to share all the dirty deets, Bella has a sudden fit of rage.

My muscles tightened, and I acted automatically...The shield blew out from me in a bubble of sheer energy, a mushroom cloud of liquid steel.

Bella can feel the “points of bright heat, dazzling sparks of light” surrounding her, like S. Meyer is sending notes to the visual effects team for the film adaptation. Seriously though, isn't this kind of a big problem, that all of the action is internal and invisible? This scene is 100 vampires standing around in a clearing while Bella thinks really hard; she notes that the full realization of her powers has gone totally unnoticed by everyone else in the clearing (and everyone in the movie theater).

Bella can easily follow Edward with her shield, but pulls back so that Aro can penetrate him (you're welcome). It happens, and Bella realizes (more or less) that Aro has seen her naked from every possible angle. And here's where it stops feeling even a little like Aro is a bad guy: Edward asks if Aro understands the sitch now, and he replies that he does: “I doubt whether any two among gods or mortals has ever seen quite so clearly.” He delights in the idea of Renesmee and asks to meet her. “What an addition to our histories!” he exclaims. And then he informs Caius that “the justice we intended to deliver no longer applies.” Well, okay then. Can we all go home and end this book now? No?

S. Meyer, always her own worst enemy, immediately starts trying to dig herself out of the hole she didn't even have to dig into in the first place. “This should have been good news,” Bella says. But she hears a “double meaning” in Aro's instruction for Caius to “ponder” what has happened. What could the double meaning be? Did he kind of do a headfake “L” sound so that it could have also been “plunder”? Bella brings RNSM forward, flanked by Jacob and Emmett. Felix and Demetri also come forward like this is the coin toss at the beginning of a football game. Then, inexplicably, Bella flirts with Felix for a few lines.

I smiled wryly at the mountainous vampire. “Hey, Felix.”
Felix chuckled. “You look good. Immortality suits you.”

Aro and the others pause for a second to appreciate how sexy Bella is, and then Bella removes her (wait for it!) mental shield from RNSM so she and Aro can chat. The shield “ripple[s] out behind [Bella] like a cape.” Again, good luck, Bill Condon. (The fact that we're not going to see how they handle this shit until November 2012 makes me not even want to see it. Move up your release date, Summit!)

Somewhere along the way, S. Meyer decides she doesn't even have to try and convince us anymore. If she wants Aro to be evil she can just change a club into a spade, and so that is what she does, right there in the middle of the page: Aro assures RNSM that he's not going to hurt her family, and Edward and Maggie (WHOEVER THAT IS?*) react “at the lie.”

(*Was Maggie introduced as a vampire who can tell when people are lying? I can't even remember. If so, she is literally in this book solely for that “hissing” above. And S. Meyer is the dumbest writer in America.)

It's almost as if S. Meyer realizes, at the end of this chapter, the mistake she has made by only telling and never showing w/r/t Aro's/The Volturi's evil. She she can't go further than this chapter if she doesn't make a course correction. And of course, going back and REVISING is out of the question—I am absolutely certain that she did not re-write so much as a single page of this book. So Aro just abruptly turns evil. He makes several earlier offers of peace and Edward does not react at all “at the lie." Then suddenly, the fifth or sixth consecutive olive branch is the one he doesn't really mean. I don't buy it at all, but again, we're supposed to take her word for it.

Chapter 37: Contrivances

Indeed! So I guess the football game analogy was apt, because at the start of this whole shebang the Cullens and the Volts gathered about a hundred yards apart. Then Edward et al met Aro in the middle. Now, instead of heading back Aro waves his team forward, moving the line of scrimmage so that everyone is only fifty yards apart. Bella and Edward retreat back to their huddle. Caius starts babbling some of the dumbest ancient-villain-speak I have ever heard, asking Aro how he can “abide this infamy” and that sort of crap. Shut up, Caius. But he's trying to call an audible (if I may extend my football metaphor as far as I can take it).

The Volturi become aware that the pitchfork-wielding mob they brought with them has stopped thirsting for violence and has instead started whispering confusedly amongst themselves. I feel your pain, guys. Bella flexes her shield into a dome and realizes that if any bad guy comes under her umbrella, it will go back to only protecting her—they'll be insider her magnetic field or whatever. Oh no! So she concentrates really hard, and, within that same page, manages to get her shield to wrap around each person, clinging to their forms like fabric. OK. WHY IS THIS EVEN IN HERE, THEN? S. Meyer introduces an imaginary problem and then solves it before it has any impact on the story; it's like she's trying to convince us how hard she thinks about this stuff. The problem is, she thinks really hard about the mechanics of Bella's magic shield but doesn't think really hard about what makes a satisfying dramatic arc. PRIORITIZE, LADY! Then Bella realizes that if she concentrates on shielding Jacob, all the other members of his pack are protected too. OH COOL WAIT I DON'T FUCKING CARE EVEN A LITTLE BIT. This is like, fucking page 700.

And then the same pattern of “inconsequential problem is brought up and then solved immediately” repeats. Caius starts complaining about the werewolves, saying that “the Children of the Moon” are vampires' sworn enemy and here the Cullens are cooperating with them. Edward points out that it is the middle of the day, and that Jacob and his ilk are not “Children of the Moon.”

Edward's jaw clenched and unclenched, then he answered evenly, “They aren't even werewolves. Aro can tell you all about it if you don't believe me.”

Aro then calmly explains that though Jacob and the guys “think of themselves as werewolves,” they are actually “shape shifters.” OH OKAY! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BOOK? WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING? OH THE VOLTURI ARE EVIL NO THEY'RE NOT YES THEY ARE AGAIN OH BELLA'S SHIELD DOESN'T WORK OH NOW IT DOES OH THE WOLVES ARE THE ENEMY OF VAMPIRES OH THE WOLVES AREN'T WOLVES AND NO ONE HAS MENTIONED IT BEFORE BUT IT'S IMPORTANT NOW FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS SHIT FUCK IT I HATE THIS I HATE READING THIS FUCKING BOOK WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK? FUCK!

WRITING BREAKING DAWN: Alice Cullen Paints A Fence

OK, for real: I want to start posting some of this shit on Twilighted. So check out the directory here, and tell me which stories you think should go over there. Let's see how long it takes me to get banned!

"Alice Cullen Paints A Fence"

“Alice Cullen what did I tell you?” Esme put her hands on her hips and stared down at her daughter.
Alice tossed aside a bloody limb and looked up innocently. “We were just having some fun,” she whined.
“Well, you might have had fun, but I don't think these people are enjoying themselves anymore.” Esme gestured sternly around at the blood and gore and bones in her daughter's bedroom.
“I made it real enjoyable for them for a while there.”
“I'm sure you did. But now you're going to be punished. Ain't no way around it.”
Alice sighed. “But Esme, punishment don't work on me!”
“I know, but you're just going to have to take your licks on this one. And I don't want to hear anymore moaning.”
“Usually when I take my licks there's a lot of moaning,” Alice said.
“You're gonna paint that there fence out back,” Esme said, pointing out the window. “It needs a new coat.”
Alice sighed and stood up. “Alright then.”
“Alice?”
“Yes ma'am?”
“Put some clothes on.”
“Okay, ma'am.”

Alice Cullen approached her brother Emmett, who was watching a basketball game on the TV while holding a basketball in his lap.
“Emmett, how would like to do something really cool?”
“Well, based on your description I'd say I'd like it just fine,” he said with an easy grin.
“I think painting that fence out yonder would be a real good time,” she said. “I already got you the paint, a few brushes, this here smock.”
“A smock! Badass!” Emmett said, standing up. The basketball bounced across the floor as a realization dawned on him. “Wait a minute, are you fixing to trick me into doing your chores for you?”
Alice sighed, caught red-handed. “Yessir.”
“Well, what do I get in return?”
“I'll give you a...say, how's about a... blowjob?” Alice offered timidly.
“Sold!” Emmett said. He started for the backyard.
“I'm going to see about finding you a few assistants,” Alice said.

Bella Cullen lit a new cigarette with the end of her old one and picked up the newspaper again.
“Mommy!” Renesmee hollered from another room. “C'mere!”
“What is it, precious?” Bella sighed.
“Jacob did funny thing! Lemme show you!”
“Oh for fuck's sake honey, we've talked about this! You can show me LATER!” Bella snapped.
“You're losing your patience with her far too easily,” Edward said gently, from his position on the fainting couch nearby. He casually turned the page of his Bible.
“I've had about enough of your shit, too.” Bella mumbled.
“I heard that,” Edward said quietly.
Bella flashed him a murderous look and whispered, as low as she could, “I hate you.”
“Heard that, too,” Edward said woundedly.
“Knock the fuck knock!” Alice said from outside.
Bella was out the door with her arm hooked through Alice's, leading her away from her cottage, before Alice really knew what was happening.
“Tell me we're going to Vegas or something,” Bella said. “Please!”
“'Fraid not,” Alice replied. “Fact is, I need a favor.”
“Fuck, I'll do near anything to get out of that godforshitting cottage.”
“Well, I convinced Emmett to paint the back fence for me--”
“How'd you ever swing that?”
“I mighta promised a sexual favor or two,” Alice said, making a “jerking-off” hand gesture. Then she moved her still-gesturing hand toward her mouth and started pushing her tongue against one cheek. She continued with the miming act for a few seconds, cupping imaginary balls and finally spitting out of one corner of her mouth, wiping her chin, and grinning at Bella, who slow-clapped in response. “Anyway I was hoping you could perchance... lend a hand.”
“Fuck Emmett? Sure,” Bella said breathlessly, taking her hands from her hips and unconsciously pushing up her breasts.
“Well,” Alice said, stunned by this turn of events, “I'll let you fuck him IF you pitch in painting that there fence.” She pointed and smiled.
“Fair's fair,” Bella said. She set off in the direction of the backyard.

Alice shook her head and returned to her house and knocked on her sister Rosalie's door. She answered with narrowed eyes.
“How would you like to watch Emmett have sex with Bella?” Alice asked.
“What?” Rosalie said, appalled. “How dare you? Where do you get off?”
“On the bed, on the couch, in trees sometimes, underwater on occasion,” Alice replied.
Rosalie stood waiting, tapping one foot.
“C'mon, think about it,” Alice pleaded. “It will be fun! And the look on Edward's face when he reads Emmett's thoughts?”
A smile crossed Rosalie's lips. “Bella will actually let me watch? That would be...interesting, I guess.”
“If you'd be so kind as to help them paint the fence...” Alice suggested.
“In the backyard?”
“Yep, just the way Emmett likes it,” Alice winked.
“Yeah, well—hey, how do YOU know that?”
“I have my ways.” Alice nodded at a seemingly normal looking teddy bear on the dresser.
“Christ. Is there a CAMERA in there?”
“High definition.”
“That's fucking disgusting, Alice. I'm your kin.”
“It ain't disgusting at all. You've got a slamming body, girl.”
Rosalie grinned despite herself.

Alice danced down the staircase, triumphant. Her mother Esme was standing at the back window watching her siblings Bella, Emmett, and Rosalie paint the fence.
“I reckon I have to hand it to you,” Esme said. “You sure found your way around this punishment.”
“Or have I?” Alice asked, looking toward the living room.
“Alice!” Edward called. He pushed through the front door, livid. “You and I are about to have an abrupt conversation. I can hear Emmett and Rose: You have my wife planning to violate her sacred marriage bonds!”
Alice laughed. “You think she hasn't violated them before? Why do you think I am mentally reciting Greek poetry right now instead of thinking about the hike Bella and I went on two weeks ago?”
Edward gasped. “You have made me a cuckold! I challenge you to a duel!”
This time both Esme and Alice laughed. “Oh god, are you serious?” Alice asked when Edward didn't react. “Edward—I would, I mean, I would fucking OWN you. I would tear your ass apart.”
Esme nodded solemnly. “She would.”
Edward processed that for a moment. “You must stop her,” he said quietly.
“I most certainly shall not,” Alice said, putting her hands on her hips. “Bella is her own woman. But, I'll make it up to you.”
“How?” Edward asked.
“I'll give you a blowj--”
“No,” Edward stopped her.
Esme giggled and then put her hand over her mouth. She turned back to stare out the window, but when she saw what her children were getting up to in the field now, she had to avert her eyes. “Oh goodness. I'll be in my room,” she said.
“I will let you... drive my car!” Alice offered.
“I bought you that car,” Edward countered.
“With my money,” Alice noted.
“Still, no.”
They stood silently for a few minutes, Alice considering favors and then foreseeing Edward's denials. She sighed when she realized what she had to do. “Okay Edward. You got me. Two hours of Bible study.”
“Really!?” Edward could scarcely contain his joy.
“I'll be there with bells on. I'll even wear underwear this time.”
“This is going to be great!” Edward rejoiced.
And they all came happily ever after. Except Edward.