What do u think of what i've written so far? Would stephenie meyer approve?

Her hair appeared blonde, sometimes white. Her skin was pale— an oddity being that she lived in central Texas. She had long thin legs; her many admirers likened to them to Bambi’s first few moments on the ice—awkward. She looked like one of those starving, coked out models toward the end of their careers.





Her name had been Ida, just Ida. She had a last name, but everyone forgets. I remembered she once joked, “Ida sounded easier to scream than Idina Santamaria.” She had been an 18 year-old college student, and now a famous one at that, for she had committed suicide by hanging in her dorm room the week earlier. Everyone on campus whispered her name. All the news stations flashed her picture and the school bought an obituary to commemorate the loss. However, none of news coverage could properly describe the sum of her life: Ida was beautiful.





“I saw her from the university’s café on the first day of school,” I said.


She rushed, probably to her first class, in short bouncy steps. Her leather knee length skirt squeezed her hips, which caused her to take the small steps, but it still didn’t account for the cartoonish gait—that was all Ida. Her shoulders were pushed back and her chest pushed forward when she turned to face the group of people in the café. I couldn’t tell if she noticed the shock on people’s faces. At the time, I would be surprised if she saw anything. The dark glasses hid most of her face and I hoped, for her sake, the glasses did obstruct her vision because the small crowd did not stare for polite reasons. We thought she looked ridiculous.





“…and what did you think, Paul?” Dr. Charles Powell said.





“I thought she looked…wonderful,” I said. “Strange, but wonderful,”





Ida was not strange in individual parts. The red lipstick, the pink cardigan, the leopard heels, and the perfectly coiffed Monroe hair were all fine, albeit tacky, in small doses. But combined? Well, she must have known she would turn heads.





Charlie—I called him Charlie because I knew he hated it—laughed.





“Strange?” he asked.





“Well, she dressed different. She acted different. She sort of had this attitude that just pissed people off, and trust me; she pissed a whole lot of people off here on campus.”





And I think Ida loved to piss people off. She never said so and she never responded seriously to questions about it, but I knew she did this—the clothes, the attitude, the walk— for show. I didn’t hate her like some of the people who said Ida was a fake. She was a fake. She was a fraud, an impostor, a lie. But she strived every day to live up to that lie.What do u think of what i've written so far? Would stephenie meyer approve?
You call me a sobby ***** and want me to read your story? That's a little different. Other than my personal problems with you, it didn't exactly seem my taste but the writing wasn't bad. I'm not sure where you are going with the plot yet ... keep going?What do u think of what i've written so far? Would stephenie meyer approve?
I want to keep reading...





edit; to clarify, so far, it's pulling me in and I want to read the rest, if there IS going to be more.





oh, okay. :] well, so far so good. i think it's pretty well-written. better than stephenie meyers SO FAR.
Well , that was different . Interesting , but different.





It doesn't give much away which is good as i imagine this is your introduction. I think you could carry it on and improve in a few places but its good.
for the love of god, if Ida happens to be a vampire *shakes head*. I dont have anything against vampires btw; i just think they're overdone so much but the thing is, what hasnt been done?





okay, heres what i think about the story. i think its good; it doesnt give too much away like the first answer said and its cryptic. im oddly curious about her.