I bought this book because I believed all the hype. Silly me! I fell for that ploy yet again. It seems these days that sometimes the bigger the hype, the bigger the disappointment I'll feel.Usually I don't write a review before I've finished reading a book. But I've read over 200 pages of 'Twilight', and I'm not sure if I can bear reading the rest, so I think I may as well review it now.How best to describe this book? Hmmm...Remember back to when you were a little kid in school, and your teacher would set you an essay-writing assignment on 'What I Did At School Today'? Well, this book reads like one of those essays, only it goes on and on and on and on and on, day after day after day...I don't get why it's so important to tell us EVERY SINGLE CLASS that Bella goes to at school, for months on end, especially if it's totally irrelevant to the storyline. It's like reading someone's school diary, the kind that outlines which classes to go to at which times each day and which assignments are due, but leaves out any of the juicier, more interesting gossip you'd get in a normal diary. And the same goes for Bella's homelife - we get to hear what she eats and when, what she does for homework, exactly how well she slept each night, and so on, every day. And it's almost never interesting facts that are relevant, it's dry, boring, repetitious stuff. Bella's life is so DULL, I think you could read instruction manuals for watching paint dry that were less boring. Ugh! If my pillows were this overstuffed with fluff and filler, I'd have to sleep almost in a sitting-up position.And Bella was annoying. Whingy, self-centred, quite rude to her 'friends' at times, and totally lacking a sense of humour or a modicum of intelligence or any genuine concern for anyone other than herself or her pretty boy boyfriend, she grated on my nerves like a constantly dripping tap. I could understand why no one at her old school liked her. I couldn't understand, though, why everyone at her new school seemed to treat her like royalty and wanted to be with her constantly, right from day one of her arriving there.Using first person narrative can be a wonderful thing, in the hands of a good writer - it can be used to convey the central character's feelings and thoughts and motivations so much more effectively than third-person narrative. But this author wasted this opportunity, and gave us practically nothing in the way of the narrator's personality, or nothing positive, anyway, unless you think that being a whingy sociopath is a positive. The other trap with using first person narrative as a writer is that you can fall into the trap of making too many 'I' statements, which gets really dull, or even annoying. This author fell right into that trap. It wasn't uncommon to find an entire, long paragraph where every sentence began with 'I' (like on page 114, for instance). Perhaps if the character of Bella had thought about others more often, instead of just herself, or had made witty commentary about current events or what was going on around her, she wouldn't have had a need to start so many sentences with 'I'. Clearly, a very self-centred character, written by an author lacking in imagination or experience, or so it would seem.And the hero of the piece, Edward, was dull - his only features seemed to be his unbelievably godlike good looks and his flashy car. I want more to my heroes than that, thankyou. And as for the other characters in the book, we learn practically nothing about them - they only seem to exist to help or interact with the heroine; they don't seem to have any lives or character or quirks of their own.I found this book REALLY painful. I hate quitting, and I usually see books through to the end. But this one is so bad, I don't know that I'll be able to force myself to finish it, and I don't think I should - I'm just not a fan of masochism. I've been having to force myself to read it, for a few minutes at a time, here and there, over months, just to get to page 200+. Spending time with this book is like being forced to visit relatives I don't like - I sit there, lamenting that I don't like them, that I have nothing in common with them, that they're about as exciting as a day spent staring at the wall, that it is a waste of my valuable time to be there, and I count down the minutes until I can escape. Better that I had never visited them in the first place - in other words, better that I had never started reading this book in the first place.I think that if I crave any vampire tales in future, I'll just stick to watching Buffy reruns or reading Patricia Briggs' wonderful 'Mercy Thompson' series of books. I definitely won't be reading any more of Stephenie Meyer's books, anyway. 

Question: What is the problem of your car?
Answer: his only features seemed to be his unbelievably godlike good looks and his flashy car