The Hunger Games knocked me off my feet.
I bought it on Saturday and had decided to just read a few chapters, but circumstances allowed me to finish it on Sunday afternoon.
Such an amazing story and so exciting.
I had the sequel, Catching Fire, in my hand at the bookstore on Saturday but decided not to get it in case I didn’t like the first book.
I regretted that last night.
So tonight when we go to town to see Deathly Hallows I’m swinging by the bookstore to pick up books 2 and 3 (Mockingjay) as well.
There’s something I noticed about good literature that make me want to try it out myself, wishing, hoping I can make something as good myself.
And then there’s bad literature – the kind you read and cringe and just want to hide in a hole and abandon books all together.