A friend and I have a tongue-in-cheek, purely speculative saying we throw around whenever one of our friends gets with a younger woman: “If God didn’t want grown men courting sixteen-year-old girls he wouldn’t let them turn sixteen.” Okay, I know that’s downright naughty, but it seems to be an inexplicable trend when you’re talking about young adult vampire novels—which me and Sal do just about every chance we get. Because neither of us understands why any girl would find it romantic to curl up with a cold, undead, century-old emo dude named Edward Cullen. Because I once wrote a pseudo-vampire novel that Sal thinks gives him uncontrollable boners due to its portrayal of non-ice cube psychic vampires. This pleases me.
In the case of modern-day YA vampires, I find myself wondering something similar to a question posted over at the Lurv a la Mode blog (this is a question that includes its own answer, by the way):
I do not understand why a 500 year old vampire would find a teenage girl, or even a woman in her early twenties, the least bit alluring. The best I can come up with is that jaded vampires are drawn to their relative innocence and purity, traits they themselves cast off long ago.
That could be it, though as a vampire centuries of isolated living would give me plenty of time to sort out my attractions. I know that the day I turned twenty, the allure of teenage girls pretty much vaporized on the spot. One, I was officially out of my teens, and ready to blunder through fresh territory. Two, I was aware that all of us are high maintenance while in our teens. Each of us is so convinced we’re the shit. It can get old quick if you’re older than the girl. Especially when you run headlong into that first meaningful college relationship. You can date a gal without having to babysit her. It’s awesome, and it doesn’t reinforce the stereotype that all teen girls want grown men in boys’ bodies. In fact, it nurtures the possibility that more women are willing to put up with the reverse.