And for your repeated viewing pleasure, the original trailer for Eclipse.

And here, by popular demand, is the fan-made, extended version of both Eclipse trailers:

When you read any of the books in the Twilight series, you (and Bella) are sure to notice exchanges going on that Bella doesn’t understand, wonders about, or politely ignores.

For example, at the start of Twilight, Edward is there, then gone. He’s looking, then he’s not. The Cullens are cold and distant at their lunch table, and then Emmet’s shaking his snowy hair while the rest are laughing. She’s burning, and then hears chuckling, and then smells gasoline. What’s going on?

One of the many things that Stephenie Meyer is definitely not is lazy. She appears to have fully and completely thought through what every character is thinking and whispering and doing behind Bella’s back. And there is a lot going on. And we — like Bella — are missing out!

So, Stephenie Meyer decided to re-write Twilight from Edward’s haughty, then incredulous, then captivated perspective. What a gift to Twilight fans, and literature students who would have an incredible insight into the writing process! Here’s what she wrote about it, originally:

Midnight Sun is an exercise in character development that got wildly out of hand (as do many of my projects).

While I was procrastinating some real editing work (I’m always at my most creative when procrastinating), I started to wonder how the first chapter of Twilight would read if it were written from Edward’s perspective. There is so much more to his side of the story than there is to Bella’s in that first chapter. After all, Bella only knows that an incredibly gorgeous boy is looking at her funny. Meanwhile, Edward is suffering through one of the most momentous days of his very long life! First there’s the shock and frustration of not being able to hear Bella’s thoughts, then the wild, monstrous reaction to her scent, followed by the incredible expenditure of self-control that it takes to not kill her… His side of Bella’s first day at Forks High School is a hundred times more exciting than her own.

Though I didn’t have time to work on it right away, the idea of letting Edward have his chance to speak stuck with me. I couldn’t shake it. I found myself thinking his words in the middle of the night and jotting down phrases he would use while I was waiting in line at the post office. As soon as I finished my real work, I sat down and let Edward get his say.

Writing chapter one, “First Sight,” from Edward’s point of view was an exciting experience; I actually had my pulse racing as I typed. When I finished, I was truly pleased with my creation. Here was the other side of the story that no one knew. Here was the truth of what Edward had been through. I felt like I knew my Edward even better, and I was sure his dialogue would be more insightful in future novels. The end. Exercise over.

Ha ha. It wasn’t long before I was thinking about Edward in Alaska, Edward upon his return to Forks, Edward’s side of that fateful conversation in Biology… Chapter two started to write itself in my head, while I kept telling myself that I didn’t have time to write a book for fun when I had real books to write. (My mother seconded that opinion—she thinks I work too hard).

But when a story demands to be written, there’s no way to resist. And the more I wrote, the more I became convinced that Edward deserved to have his story told. At first I was planning to post it all here on my website, but I changed my mind for two reasons, the most important being that Edward’s version is much longer than Bella’s—Edward over-thinks everything. I’m not even half way done, and the page count is near three hundred. The second reason that I changed my mind is a little bit silly—I just would really love to have a pretty, matching, bound version of Midnight Sun to put beside Twilight on top of my desk. So I’m going to try to have it published as a complementary novel to Twilight. It will take a while, because I can only work on it between editing stints, but I hope that someday I’ll be able to see Midnight Sun on the bookstore shelves next to Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and etc… (Fueling my belief that Midnight Sun is worthy of publishing is my mother’s about face—after reading the first eleven chapters, she thinks it’s magic and says I should go for it.)

And here I was going to write just a short paragraph of introduction. You see what I mean about things getting out of hand?

Hurray for things getting out of hand!

But then, tragically, things went wrong. Here’s what happened next:

August 28, 2008

As some of you may have heard, my partial draft of Midnight Sun was illegally posted on the Internet and has since been virally distributed without my knowledge or permission or the knowledge or permission of my publisher…. I have no comment beyond that as I believe that there was no malicious intent with the initial distribution.

I did not want my readers to experience Midnight Sun before it was completed, edited and published. I think it is important for everybody to understand that what happened was a huge violation of my rights as an author, not to mention me as a human being. As the author of the Twilight Saga, I control the copyright and it is up to the owner of the copyright to decide when the books should be made public; this is the same for musicians and filmmakers. Just because someone buys a book or movie or song, or gets a download off the Internet, doesn’t mean that they own the right to reproduce and distribute it. Unfortunately, with the Internet, it is easy for people to obtain and share items that do not legally belong to them. No matter how this is done, it is still dishonest. This has been a very upsetting experience for me, but I hope it will at least leave my fans with a better understanding of copyright and the importance of artistic control.

So where does this leave Midnight Sun? My first feeling was that there was no way to continue. Writing isn’t like math; in math, two plus two always equals four no matter what your mood is like. With writing, the way you feel changes everything. If I tried to write Midnight Sun now, in my current frame of mind, James would probably win and all the Cullens would die, which wouldn’t dovetail too well with the original story. In any case, I feel too sad about what has happened to continue working on Midnight Sun, and so it is on hold indefinitely.

I’d rather my fans not read this version of Midnight Sun. It was only an incomplete draft; the writing is messy and flawed and full of mistakes. But how do I comment on this violation without driving more people to look for the illegal posting? It has taken me a while to decide how and if I could respond. But to end the confusion, I’ve decided to make the draft available here (at the end of this post). This way, my readers don’t have to feel they have to make a sacrifice to stay honest. I hope this fragment gives you further insight into Edward’s head and adds a new dimension to the Twilight story. That’s what inspired me to write it in the first place.

I do want to take a moment and thank the wonderful fans who have been so supportive of me over the past three years. I cannot begin to tell you how much each of you means to me. I only hope this note will stop all the confusion and online speculation so that the Twilight universe can once again become the happy escape it used to be. After this incredibly busy year, I am now focusing on spending more time with my family and working on some other writing projects.

Sigh. How sad. Especially when Midnight Sun could — would — have likely been her best work. Not many authors get to revise a major work, correct all their little mistakes, realign the thematic direction where some readers have misunderstood, help guys feel less embarrassed about being bitten, and so forth.

Midnight Sun is genius, or could have been if it had been completed. Sigh. Will dawn ever break for Midnight Sun?

And so, with apologies for stealing the remainder of your day, here is the link to the great, unfinished, Midnight Sun.

The next morning, we went to the casino. Natural light never came close to touching the gaming floor, so it was very easy. Edward told me it was generally expected for them to go lose some money in the hotel—a suite like ours was reserved for that special class of visitor known as high rollers.

As they walked—and I rolled in my wheelchair—through the acres of elegantly decorated casino floor, three times Alice paused at a particular slot machine and slid a card through the scanner. Each time she did this, sirens would blare, lights would revolve, and an electronic simulation of coins dropping indicated that her prize had been credited to her room. She tried to get me to do it once, but I skeptically shook my head.

“I thought you were supposed to lose money,” I accused her.

“Oh, I will,” she assured me. “But not until I make them sweat a little.” Her smile was sinful.

We reached a more lavishly decorated division of the huge casino, where there were no slot machines or casually dressed tourists with plastic cups full of change. Plush chairs replaced the swiveling bar stools, and the voices were quiet, serious. But we continued still further, through a set of ornate gold doors into another room, a private room, more opulent yet. Finally I understood why Alice had insisted on the raw silk, emerald green wrap around dress she’d tied on me today, why she was wearing a long, white satin sarong—with a short lace top that bared her flat, white stomach—and why Edward was overwhelming and irresistible in another light silk suit. The players in this room were all dressed with an exclusive splendor whose expense was far beyond my imagining. A few of the impeccable older men even had young women in glittering, strapless gowns standing behind their chairs, just like in the movies. I pitied the beautiful women as their eyes swept over Alice and Edward, realizing their own deficiencies as they measured the first, and the deficiencies of their partners as they ogled the second. I was the enigma, and their eyes slid away from me unsatisfied.

Alice glided off toward the long roulette tables, and I cringed as I thought of the havoc she would wreak.

“You do know how to play black jack, of course,” Edward bent forward to murmur in my ear.

“Are you kidding?” I felt the color drain from my face.

“Knowing your luck, I couldn’t lose any more thoroughly than by letting you play,” he chuckled. He wheeled me toward a table with three empty chairs. The two immaculately dressed, exceptionally dignified Asian men glanced up in disbelief as Edward lifted me gently into one of the empty velvet chairs, and took the seat next to me. The delicate oriental beauty who stood at the end of the table watched with insulting incredulity as Edward caressed my hair possessively.

“Only use one hand,” he breathed almost silently in my ear. “And keep your cards over the table.”

Read the conclusion at the Twilight Lexicon site here. Delightful!