Vampire Fans, Head to Head: Twilight

I'd heard his name for months before we ever actually met. Everywhere I went, it was passed between female lips as a whisper, lingering softly at the edge like the sweet smoke of a much-needed cigarette, a secret addiction simply too good to give up.

He was all the buzz but I prided myself on rarely falling victim to the hypes and crazes that lasted so briefly for young women like myself. I never once caved into buying a pair of pink Ugg boots, nor did I ever swoon over the hottest guy in middle school, like my fellow classmates once did. This was one in the same; I was denying myself the chance to know him because, well, why build something up for improbable failure? His charm, mystery and good looks could not be enough to make me turn my back on everything I stood for. I would not cave and I did not care.

But a few months ago, just before a redeye flight from Ireland back to Boston, we ran into each other in the airport bookstore, our eyes meeting beneath the iridescent lights. He was alone, as was I, and it seemed that all resolution had vanished when I found myself across the linoleum floors, fingertips gracefully stroking the contours of his smooth, black jacket. Before I knew it, we had checked out at the register and were snuggled up together beneath a US Airways fleece blanket for the next seven hours.

This was my first encounter with Edward Cullen, and now months later, I find myself completely and utterly obsessed, much like every other crazed, tween Twi-hard out there. I didn't want to give into temptation but, yes, I caved and bought the book for that treacherous plane ride home. I can still proudly say I'm not one of those maniacal groupies, adorning gloomy, emo vampire T-shirts, but I must admit, as much as I hate to, that I am in fact a Twilight fan.   

Before you label me some "hopeless-romantic-hypocrite-dweeb," let me just say, I know plenty of you are Harry Potter fans out there, if that helps you relate. So if you're into slightly nerdy stories of mythical beings in the modern-day world, this book is undoubtedly for you, just with a dash more violence and sexual tension than the Sorcerer's Stone. And if you find yourself imagining the characters in either book to be analogous with their movie star counterparts, let's be honest, Robert Pattinson or Daniel Radcliffe, Jacob Black or Ron Weasley? ‘Nuff said. Or even if you're not a fan of Hogwarts, as I never was, I think you'll still find that teenage girl somewhere inside you who wouldn't mind a heroic, fanged boyfriend over the acney-riddled doofuses of twelfth grade (or senior year of college).

For those of you unwilling readers, or cave dwellers for the last few years, Twilight is about Bella Swan, a mature, angsty only-child product of divorce, who has moved to the small, gray town of Forks, Washington, to live with her father. While awkwardly and clumsily settling into a new school, Bella becomes lab partners with Edward Cullen, the eternally 18-year-old, Greek God-esque vampire, who internally struggles between his desires for her love and her blood. Readers follow bands of teenage vampires and werewolves through an eerie world of young romance, sexual frustration, bloodlust and trouble. Looking back, how was I not immediately sold?

The whole vampire fever is not necessarily new to pop culture, what with the genre's duality of sex and violence that has intrigued us mere humans for  hundreds of years. What has changed, however, is fan demographic. Readers and moviegoers tend to be female—from hysterical girls (as young as seven and eight year-olds!) to middle-aged women (my best friend's mother included)—but the series also has amounted a surprisingly substantial male fan base. Either way, followers have become increasingly obsessed with the star-crossed lovers of Twilight, a fixation reflected through book and movie sales. It has also lead to various spinoffs, equally successful for their vampiric nature, from HBO's True Blood (borderline pornography) and the CW's Vampire Diaries (pubescent OC-esque Virginian vamps).

And with this weekend's release of New Moon, the second film of the series, Twi-mania may reach a new pinnacle of fan infatuation. Not since The Beatles' 1960s debut, or Leonardo DiCaprio's stint in Titanic, has such celebrity frenzy cloaked the entire planet. It makes sense when you think about it: Robert Pattinson's brooding hipster attitude and careless garage attire may eclipse (pun intended) John Lennon's mod haircut, pencil-thin tie and boy band appeal. Along the same vein, Taylor Lautner has quite possibly the most bodacious bod I've ever seen for a teenager, especially when compared to the scrawny physique of Gilbert Grape Leo.

My point is, dear readers, don't knock it till you try it. Don't be dismayed by the craze surrounding the Twilight series—how could so many screaming girls be wrong? Don't be obstinate because of the first film's mediocracy—they had a low budget, okay? And, lastly, don't be too cool to read a book about vampires. I guarantee you, coming from a recovering  non-believer, you will be hooked. Say you won't, but I bet you will. If you give it a real chance and still claim to be unmoved, you're either lying to yourself, or to me, and you have a stash of all four books hidden under your bed, read from cover to cover. And I bet you secretly hate Kristen Stewart too, don't you?

If you're fearless and willing, go buy the first book. You won't regret it. In the very least, you'll find a decent read,  if you don't become ravenously obsessed that is. Or if you're anything like me, you may consider a move to the rainy state of Washington in hopes of finding a vampire boyfriend, or at least a werewolf plaything. And to all my fellow fans who have already seen the light, I haven't forgotten you. Please don't hyperventilate on Friday night; there's still two more to come