If you don't know me personally, you would probably think I'm a reading fanatic. Wrong. Or possibly, I just enjoy reading. Wrong again. Maybe I think colorful books on the bookshelf look cute for my blog? Ding ding ding! My mom and sister LOVE to read. My mom is in a book club and my sister is always reading with her travels and such. Both have Kindles so that makes them read even more. Moi? I have always said "I hate reading," or "Ew, you're reading a book? Why?" My older brother is the same way. Mandatory reading for school is a drag, so I have to admit that I have used Sparknotes quite a few times the night before a quiz on the past 5 chapters in "Of Mice and Men." Then again, is the normal high school-er interested in why Siddhartha became The Buddha, for example? Not especially. This is part of the reason why I would never read "for fun." I figured that if the books the teachers had us read were dull, then every book must be. Therefore I just never tried to pick up a book "for fun." Well, one quick WalMart run late at night while back home in Saratoga for break, my best friend makes me buy the first book of the trilogy, The Hunger Games. When she dropped me off at home at around 11:15 PM (I told you it was late at night), she said I HAD to read 40 pages before I went to bed. 48 pages is the number I read...overachiever right here! I put the book down for a day and ran some errands, like getting my permit, thank you very much. The next day I decided to read a little more. Did I mention that a little more really means the rest of the book? Lying by the fireplace for about 7 hours, literally without stopping and having to miss going out dinner because I had to finish it could've easily given my mother a stop of a heartbeat twice or thrice. Those bold letters at the bottom of the last page "END OF BOOK ONE," were so powerful I almost couldn't sleep because I felt like I was living in Panem. (If you don't know what I'm talking about you should probably go read the book now.) Next day consists of going to BJ's to snatch the second book of the trilogy, Catching Fire. On the bus back to New York City I read about 250 pages and I finished it the following day. I have yet to finish the last book, Mockingjay, and see the movie, but there's a good chance of me crying, then blogging about them soon. With a book that grabs you from the very start is so cool. I don't know how authors do it, but that's what makes them an author. When I read something interesting, I live inside the book, like I am one of the characters. Imaginations run wild with a little bit of black and white text. À bientôt.
P.S.- If you know of any books that could grab in a non-reader like myself, please let me know.
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