"But is it scary?" I asked rather sheepishly.
Having never cut my teeth on Anne Rice, or soaked in the suds of Sookie Stackhouse, I was anything but fang-friendly when a photo editor colleague at Entertainment Weekly recommended I read a buzzy bloodsucker series penned by Stephenie Meyer. But after a splashy cover story (for which Robert Pattinson famously posed as the love child of Fabio and Donald Trump), my curiosity could not be denied. And I bit into "Twilight."
It was 2008, and I had moved to the city a few months earlier to pursue a career in magazine journalism. Little did I know as I paged past the lacquered black cover and into the depths of Edward and Bella's star-crossed romance how pivotal the series would prove to my career path.
As one of only a handful of dot-com writers who had—at that point—become intimately acquainted with the goings on in Forks, Washington, I became one of the go-to scribes for all things related to the series, which provided many more writing opportunities and reporting outings than the average intern would have dreamt of. One of my most cherished memories from that time speaks to just how nichey the saga scene was before the "Twilight" film debuted later that year.
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Tags Breaking Dawn, Twilight