Before I found my husband reading The Hunger Games in February, my only impression of it was that is was some teenybopper hit, probably like Twilight. So I asked him why he was reading it. “Because it’s awesome,” he replied. Then I found my (39 year old, male) boss reading it, and he also said it was great. So I wanted to read it. But I had this 900 page behemoth of a book standing in my way (and I am STILL NOT DONE IT), as well as library holds that kept on coming in and couldn’t wait. The trilogy patiently waited in the Kindle on the nightstand.
Then the movie came out, and I became oddly obsessed with seeing it. We went to a matinee the day after it came out, and I loved it.
We went on a short vacation to Chicago last week, and I decided that this was my time to read The Hunger Games. When I got halfway through the first novel just on the flight, I knew I could make a sizable dent. I finished the last novel shortly after returning home yesterday. It was awesome.
It’s very moreish, making it hard to put down, and each book is pretty short. I wouldn’t say the writing is amazing, but the story is good, and the imagination is impressive. I’m also not saying the writing is bad, it’s maybe just a little simple. But who am I to say, I’m not exactly trying hard over here.
I thought it was great. Just read it if you haven’t already!