I’ve heaped some abuse on the Twilight phenomenon over the years, so perhaps it’s apt that I acknowledge my generation’s equivalent: Flowers in the Attic. Because it’s getting adapted again, by Lifetime of all networks… Which is actually kind of brilliant, once you think about it. Of course the network that gave us such classics as Mother, May I Sleep With Danger will adapt Flowers in the Attic. It’s a match made in creepy, creepy heaven.
The entire V.C. Andrews oeuvre was huge among many of us who were preteen girls back in the 80’s and 90’s. (It’s not just me, I swear.) It’s all delightfully creepy and weird and wrong. We knew it! We loved it anyway! We read them all, even the poor sad formulaic ghostwritten ones (Virginia Adams died in 1986 and they are still publishing to this day) until we moved on. To other books, hopefully not screwing our brothers.
Man, these things were disturbing. Moreso now. (My favorite was My Sweet Audrina, which is incest-free but still not any less inappropriate for a 12-year-old.) But you know what? I’m pretty sure I still have my copies. Peace upon you, Twilight girls. Because I am going to watch the hell out of this Heather Graham-starring piece of badly-formed Lifetime cheese, whenever it airs.