I did it you guys, I became totally and completely and utterly consumed in the Hunger Games Trilogy. An amount of time I would not allow myself to have when the end of the semester was in full swing. I was complimented on my will power for holding out. But honestly, I had no idea what was about to happen.
I became all out consumed with the series. I read from morning, till night and till even later in the night and got up early. I read all three books from 9pm Friday night until the wee hours of Sunday. Okay, people get consumed in books all the time right? Yes I know they do. But, I don’t.
I have a weird relationship with books it is a refined love for the writer, the effort of the writing and sometimes it hard for me to disconnect my academic self. It isn’t a pretentious thing because I read others. I do struggle with the mass marketed books like Harry Potty and Hunger Games. But that is mostly me with everything. I don’t like overdone things.
But this started when I was young. It was like back then I knew books, writing would all be important to me later. I have always given a book one chapter to impress me and if I am not impressed I would be done. If I get passed that I would just read. I usually liked them or I loved them and I swore to drive people crazy talking about them. Otherwise, I chuck it into the read pile.
Only three passed the tell others test. When I was younger it was the Velveteen Rabbit. I read that book back to front, front to back, sideways and backwards. I wore my copy out. I was obsessed with themes in it. The point though when I realized I was weird with books was in 9th grade when in English 9 we were assigned to read Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. This book consumed me. I honestly lost sleep, thought about this book for weeks straight. Ways I would change it, the themes and how they apply to life. I suppose that was the beginning English teacher in me. I read it later in college and the effect was not nearly as dramatic but my love and obsession with it never changed.
And I know most people would just say, “MR, that just means you are a booknerd.” And I am. But it is different. I have such an amazing relationship with the written word that has driven me my whole life. But rarely do I feel moved and out of control with emotion when I read. When that happens for me I know it is something special. It has happened three times in my life: The Velveteen Rabbit, Brave New World and The Hunger Games Trilogy.
Ina Garten (Foodnetwork Chef) once said, “If it doesn’t keep you up at night, it isn’t worth your time.” How right she was. It has been almost 24 hours since I finished the book series Hunger Games and I still can’t sleep. I rethink every little detail. The writing was beyond spectacular but the themes, the messages I could just pick at those all day long.
Anyway you may wonder why this is significant enough to write about in you my dear blog. But truthfully, I needed this. I needed it now. I needed to feel that feeling I felt in 9th grade and when I imagined my tiny velvet rabbit, dirty and tossed out. These feelings remind me how I ended up where I am at. The act of writing is so personal, amazing and when an author shares something like that with us we can’t be lost on the greatness of that moment. I forget that too easily.
It gets to easy for me to get lost in the classics and research writing, but the reality is they don’t keep me up at night. Yea I might be up studying them or looking for the deeper in meaning in hopes it will spill out via research on a page. But it isn’t like this. It isn’t feverish page turning, tears, ugly cries and such sadness when it ends in a meadow with simple words.
It was these feelings of love for the written word where Mommy Rhetoric was born and I am glad to have found her again (not that she was ever lost).
And so everyone knows….I am team Peeta all the way. I always was from the beginning to the end of the series.