Some months back, I was goaded into experimenting with a microposting utility you might have heard of called Twitter. I’ve since lost interest in Twitter, but, given the hotness of vampire stories and the imminent release of The Twilight Saga: New Moon, I thought I’d reissue, in its entirety, a 24-tweet “teen novelette” that I composed one spring day. It is called “Bruce Weber and the Photogenic Vampires of the Adirondacks,” or BWATPVOTA for short. (I have never read a Twilight book, but I have interviewed Weber and know from experience that this is pretty much exactly how things go ’round his place.)
I now hereby present “Bruce Weber and the Photogenic Vampires of the Adirondacks, A Young-Adult Novel in 24 Tweets”:
BWATPVOTA, Pt 1: Kendra was discovered while rowing at the Schuylkill Navy Regatta. Her ponytail was like a sheaf of golden Champlain wheat.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 2: Porter was discovered while splitting rails on his grandpa’s ranch in Moab, UT. He had cheekbones you could gut trout with.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 3: Kendra and Porter met on a shoot at Splintery Posts, an old camp Bruce Weber owned in the Adirondacks.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 4: Fourteen youths had been booked for the shoot, all with abdomens as tight as drumheads. Only two, however, were vampires.
BWATPVOTA, Pt. 5: Porter first spotted Kendra draped across an old Packard coupe that had been converted into a planter. Weber snapped away.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 6: She wore a madras bandeau and a sarong made from the flag of Burma. Porter caught her eye—the most cerulean eye ever.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 7: The pheromones sizzled off their skin like summer raindrops on an overheated vintage Buick.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 8: They knew then that they desired one another. They did not yet know that they shared a desire to eat the photographer.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 9: The models’ hospitality tent was loaded with carnage: blood-rare steaks, huge haunches of lamb, joints of local elk.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 10: Weber was vividly aware that the teen metabolism knew no limits.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 11: Yet Porter ignored the buffet; he “dined” only when night fell. “Dude,” said a towhead named Andy, “aren’t you hungry?”
BWATPVOTA, Pt 12: “Andy, it’s just that I’m a v—” Porter caught himself. “...a, er, VEGAN.” Kendra had overheard it all. And now she KNEW.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 13: Weber was not ignorant of the fact that the young and beautiful were often shape-shifting beasts.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 14: Two of his favorite subjects from the early 1980s, Darren and Michael, had been werewolf lovers. They’d been all over GQ.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 15: Weber approached Kendra and Porter as they nuzzled. “This afternoon,” he said, “it’s just you two for me.”
BWATPVOTA, Pt 16: “We shall hike up to Crystalline Pond,” Weber said. “The light there is especially gorgeous... at dusk.”
BWATPVOTA, Pt 17: Dusk fell at the pond. Weber arranged things just so. Porter wore nothing but an ounce of Lycra. Kendra, only a canoe.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 18: A rivulet of sweat trickled down Porter’s sternum. Kendra moved quickly to swab it with a finger. “Wonderful!” Weber said.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 19: But as it got darker, they grew hungrier. A little past six, Porter really did gut a trout with his cheekbones.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 20: Porter used the slurry of fish blood and innards to write on Kendra’s thigh, BATS 4 U. Weber got it all on film.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 21: The light grew ever fainter, the areolae more puckered, but Weber loved the strange energy his subjects were giving him.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 22: It was when Weber turned his back to reload his Pentax that the sun disappeared, and Kendra shot Porter a knowing look.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 23: The following morning, the police dogs finally picked up Weber’s scent at the mouth of a cave near Crystalline Pond.
BWATPVOTA, Pt 24: But all the police ever found was a do-rag, a Pentax 67, and the most softly worn chambray shirt that had ever existed.