I've been hooked on books since childhood, and still am. I usually have at least three books going at any given time. After nearly two decades teaching middle school, I've developed strong opinions about YA fiction. A married mother of many adult children, and a practicing Catholic, my moral paradigms do play into my reviews.
Twilight, by Stephanie Meyer
A mixed review. Sort of.
Kudos to Stephanie Meyer for figuring out how to write a story about what teenage girls, or middle aged women with teenage girl hearts, really want: to be adored and pursued by the unattainable and unique gorgeous man/men of the world, despite being clumsy, feeling stupid, and making huge mistakes all the time. Meyer made bundles of bucks of this idea, and if nothing else, got lots of people reading who might otherwise have been watching stupid TV shows.
Shame on Stepanie Meyer for not taking the time to do research into vampire legends (sparkling vegetarian vampires?), or bothering write above a fourth grade lexile. Such an opportunity, lost. I sometimes felt the star of this novel was the vampire's surly dark handsomeness, as it is mentioned a ridiculously high number of times.
I read the first book because all my (female) students were reading it, and I like to stay current with what they are reading. Since then, I have not found the motivation to finish the series. In fairness to the author, this may be partially because I am fundamentally disposed to dislike anything that every else thinks is great. But mostly it's because I did not find any of the great truths of life buried in the story. Nor did I find anyone particularly likable, no sympathetic people for whom I could cheer.
Good stories have truth in them. This one just has sparkly (??) vampires and breathless girlfriends whose lives are meaningless without the adoration of their boyfriends.
Which leads me to the most condemning thing a reader can say about a book: I was bored.