Junk Food.

In a weak moment, one where I was simultaneously suffering from poor judgment, I picked up the first Twilight novel.

I figured, 8 billion teenagers couldn’t be wrong? Right?

Then, because I didn’t think it could get any worse, I picked up the second novel during the long layover in Chicago. Because I hate myself, I finished it last night.

And then I got smart.

My friends on the internets helped me find detailed plot summaries for the next two books so that I could regain both my life and my dignity. (And yet still be able to hold a conversation with a preteen.)

As for the books? Addictive, sure. But eww.

EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW. As in, “Flowers in the Attic” has nothing on you, Twilight! EWWWW.

Please, please, please, world of authors and books: WRITE A POPULAR SERIES FOR TEENS THAT HAS A HEROINE WHO ISN’T A WHINY, SELF-ABSORBED FLAKE. DO THIS SOON. I HAVE CHILDREN TO PROTECT!