Also, werewolves don't belch, fairies don't snort, and shape-shifters don't chew with their mouths open.
Maegan, Russo, and I had this conversation over lunch a few days ago. It's quite a phenomenon (vampires not farting, that is, not the fact that we had this conversation. Our chat-sessions regularly veer between Mozart, religion, awesome movies, writing challenges, and which of us accidentally experienced a gaseous emission in front if what hideously dignified person).
(By the way, before I proceed any further and throw myself off the pedestal of refinement I know at least none of you have me on, I was not allowed to say "fart" as a child, so I feel very liberated right now.)
Anyway, I think I've had enough of the whole Perfect Vampire/Werewolf/Bad-Boy-Fallen-Angel/Annoyingly-Attractive-Fey love interests that populate Young Adult literature right now. They're so not realistic. I mean, who wants to date a guy who can't even say "Pull my finger," with any integrity?
Technically, I guess it makes sense. I mean, Vampires have no body fluids, right? Which leads to all kinds of questions that I will not be addressing here. All I'm saying is this: If my
Can you imagine snuggling in the sofa with your fanged honey-bumpkin, the two of you gazing into a romantically crackling fire in the fireplace, and having to stress about whether or not your double chimichanga with extra guacamole and pico is going to repeat on you? Because, for heaven's sake, you don't want Mr. Perfect Guts there to think you're human or anything.
Women get enough of this when they go into the restroom together. You men ought to see the contests of self-control that go on in there to make sure no one who happens to be within earshot thinks our digestive tracts actually function like they're supposed to.
So, I say enough! Enough already of the paranormal paramours whose palpitations perch in a personage of perfect percolations. Bring on the raggedy dudes who don't mind if my hiccups shatter the sound barrier, because their vapors could compete with Iceland's Eyjafjallajökull volcano. I mean, I want him to have manners, right? But I want him to be just as big a dork as I am. I can't compete with glittery perfection, and I don't want to.
So to all of you writers out there, YA or otherwise, I issue a challenge: let's make like Pinnochio and create a real boy for our readers to dream about. It might be nice for the opposite sex to feel like they can compete once in awhile. And besides, a little humanity in the characters we read about is what makes them compelling.