The Only Edward - Day 21

Apparently, last night was also Burton-fest 2013. I partook in two of his most classic films. Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands. Excuse me while I get ranty in a good way.

Title: Edward Scissorhands
Year: 1990
Synopsis: An uncommonly gentle young man, who happens to have scissors for hands, falls in love with a beautiful adolescent girl.

Tagline: His story will touch you, even though he can't.

Teenage girls the world over have spent the last decade (almost) swooning over a sparkly vampire by the name of Edward Cullen. This broody, pale, and (apparently) lethal creature somehow managed to get thirteen-year-olds and their moms all up in a frenzy. Personally, I'm confounded. Yes, I have read the books and watched the movies. They are all the comedy, and then some. But I just don't understand what the appeal is of this stalker-type fellow.

If you want a morose, bone-white dreamboat then there is another Edward who came before Mr. Cullen, and who has evidently been forgotten. And this Edward isn't going to play baseball or magically catch a falling apple, mostly because he has scissors for hands. Don't scoff and roll your eyes at me, young lady. This man does not warrant your flippant disregard or snorts of derision. He is a gem. A diamond in the rough. Far superior to any Volvo driving vampire, that's for sure.

Proof, you say! You want proof. I will give you proof.

Windswept, tousled hair - check. Peril - check. Intense stare - check. Amazing house - check. Swooping in and saving the day - check. That's all the proof you need, but let me go on.

If you want danger, try dating a man with scissors for hands. If you want taboo, try falling for a cyborg-ish man clad in latex, covered in scars who can't touch you. If you want a love story, try being with a man who leaves in order to keep you safe, and he doesn't come back later either, even more so, you don't have to travel all the way to Italy to stop him from stepping into sunlight and making himself appear as though he is participating in a Pride parade. If you want knight in ivory skin, try having the hero defend your honour only to kill the man savagely attacking you. If you want tragic love story, try the only girl he ever loved confessing the same and sharing a kiss, the only one - and there isn't the risk of him eating you, but he might possibly impale you on a scissor.

If this appeals to you, put down the Blu-ray of Twilight and pop the VHS of Edward Scissorhands in.
You know, now that I've spelled it all out like that, there are several parallels between these two story lines. Imagine that, the Twilight plot line isn't all that original. What a shocker. But despite the similarities, there is only one that is actually good amaze-balls, and it's the one with Johnny Depp - who even 23 years later is eight-hundred thousand percent more attractive than Robert Pattinson. And cooler. So much cooler.  Granted, they both seem to have problems in the relationship department.

But this isn't Us Weekly, and I'm not reviewing their love lives. I'm just refereeing the battle of the Edwards.

My love for Edward Scissorhands goes back years before Mrs. Meyer dreamed about two kids laying awkwardly in a grass field. And through these decades it remains untouchable. While none of us really live in the same cookie cutter neighbourhood, we all have experienced displacement and not fitting in. How about wanting love but not being able to have it? We know what it is like to be isolated and alone, different, a novelty for a certain group only to be discarded when our luster wears off, and I think all of us have tasted the bitterness of fear, of worrying about having the good things taken away.

Enter Mr. Scissorhands.

He is innocence. Kindness. Compassion. Loneliness. Regret. Disappointment. A mistake. Gentle. Dangerous.

He is reality.

And he is a reminder that not everything ends happily. Unlike Cullen with Bella, Scissorhands leaves Kim and her family alone, knowing he isn't good for them. That they aren't good for him. He is responsible and, ultimately, the greatest gentleman. Edward Scissorhands is the real story of forbidden love out of these two. It's sorrowful and beautiful and utter perfection.

And I don't want to hear anything about any other Edward, okay? Because they ain't got nothing on this one.

You're Not Going To Like This

Some of you may or may not know, I penned a fabulous story sort of novella thing for Pankhearst’s first publication Cars & Girls. I say fabulous because I am actually incredibly proud of what I’ve put on virtual paper. It’s raw and harsh, kick you in the gut, with a tormented leading lady and a shit ton of cuss words. The interesting part, as much as I like it, I tend to think you're not going to enjoy it at all.

Yeah, you, the one reading this. Okay, fine, maybe I should give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you love edgy, in your face stories about revenge with dirty sexy stuff and bloody gorrific twists too.

Still, here are the five reasons why you won’t like my story. OR, more so, five reasons why I think you're not going to like my story. Because, let's be honest, this is all in my head ... but we all have reservations about our work. Perhaps it's kind of brave of me to be able to put mine out there for you to read. Or perhaps not.

1 - The shit ton of cuss words. Alright, fine, you say you don’t mind a bitch here and an ass there. You think, if it benefits the story, then it will work for you. Then cool, I say, this might actually be a match made in heaven. work for you. And with labels such as tart noir, fem noir and pulp being tossed around like candy at Halloween, I only hope grandmothers aren't popping their false teeth in and lining up with their walkers to snatch this up as soon as it hits shelves. Then again, there are some rather edgy grandmothers in this world and, despite the stereotype, it’s not g-mas who are the uptight ones. If you’re a stuck up twenty-something year old who thinks masturbation is dirty or, dare I say, one of the PC Brigade of Yummy Mummys who fell in love with the virginal sparkly vampire who refused to drink human blood, well, this probably isn't going to end well. But I have a feeling you will be head-over-heels for 500. It’s really a very romantic story. (Cough-cough)

2 - There isn't a happy ending. And no, I'm not giving anything away, but there really, truly isn't a happy ending. If you’re reading this and thinking, she’s just saying that. I’m not. Personally, I think of it as a realistic ending and, if I am being honest, it leaves me with a comforting sort of feeling. Here’s the deal, this is the first thing I've ever put on virtual paper that doesn't end with sunshine coated strawberries and unicorns helping kittens across busy highways. Seriously. I am a fan of happy endings. Maybe that’s why I love Road Runner so much, because it’s different. For me. There are other people, like Nicholas Sparks who wouldn't be able to write a happy ending if someone held a gun to his head. No seriously. What the hell is wrong with that guy?

3 - On principle. It’s indie, which means, to some people, it’s unworthy. But I am a firm believer there are literary works of genius swimming around in the Indie pool. Little nuggets and gems waiting for someone to scoop them up and treasure them forever. I’m not saying this reflects my own work, no, my ego certainly isn't that big. Still, there are some people who will dislike it simply because there isn't a little Penguin stamped on the side. That said, the penguin is the cutest of all the publishing house logos.

4 - You were looking for an escape from the every day horribleness. There’s dirty stuff and angry stuff, harsh reality stuff and ‘ugh, gross’ stuff in Road Runner and you might want your stories sugar coated and tied up with pretty ribbon. A delightful package for you to undo at your leisure and enjoy every step of the way, riddled with brilliant insights and dazzling turns of events so sweet and lovely you have to cock your head to the side and say awwwww. Well, you might as well move along. In defence of Road Runner, it truly is woven together with lush sentences, so juicy and ripe they burst on your tongue with amazingness. Still, it won’t give you the hot chocolate and homemade cookies feeling you may be craving.

5 - Because you don’t like me. It happens. I get it. Maybe you don’t like my face. Or voice. Or hair. It’s up to you.

With all that being said, I sincerely hope I’m wrong and everyone loves it.

Do you ever have reservations about the things you create? Or is it just me?