Seriously, you guys. I’m sitting in the coffee shop with my laptop, Florence, her Machine, and an over-priced coffee still trying to catch my breath while I process everything.
I have to admit, I was never actually going to pick up this series. All of the hype surrounding it turned me off. Back when the weather was sunny, warm, and didn’t command every inch of exposed flesh to be covered, my friend Krista loaned me book one. She may or may not have told me what the plot was about. If she did, I don’t remember.
The book sat in a pile on a table next to my reading chair, sandwiched between the latest book club picks. It remained there collecting dust until this past Monday. With no ability to watch live television I figured I may as well just finish it so I could return the book back to Krista. I didn’t even read the back to see what it was about.
Ten minutes in and the first “Holy Shit!” status update made its way on my Facebook page.
I think I knew right then and there I was not putting this book down. Not for anything. Except to update Twitter and Facebook and my friends via text with variations of “Holy Shit!” and “OMG!” I stayed up on a weeknight until 1:00 a.m. finishing it. The first book kept my heart pounding the entire time. There are so many twists and turns and cliffhangers at the end of each chapter. I simply could not stop reading.
On the way home from work the next day, I made a special trip to Target. This is how I spent Tuesday night:
This part to the trilogy starts slower than the first book. Unit you are about half way through. Until the OH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME THEY CAN’T DO THAT! moment. More texts, more tweets, more Facebook updates. I finished the second book with the same frantic, anxious, desperate page turning as the first.
Immediately after I set it down I needed the final book. I needed to finish it now. I think it’s safe to say at this point I was a Hunger Games addict.
God bless Target for carrying the series. Wednesday night, after a longer than expected day at work, found me back in a check-out lane waiting impatiently to complete my transaction. The woman scanning the book asked if it was for me or a gift. I sheepishly replied I was purchasing the young adult novel for myself. She proudly told me she read the entire trilogy in less than a week herself. I felt so understood. And addicted. (Seriously, when is the support group starting again?)
Late nights at the office, a recovering sick dog, and a need for sleep meant I read book three over the next few days instead of one sitting. This is what Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights looked like:
It. Was. Amazing. Like the second book, it starts out with a slow and methodical approach. More twists. More turns. More cliffhangers. And then there are the final few chapters. The entire series has built up to these final moments and they deliver in the same anxious, frantic, and desperate page turning ways that are the Hunger Games Series.
The ending. It does not disappoint.
Reflecting on the entire trilogy, each book has its own feel to it. The characters evolve throughout the series. With everything they experience they have to, and their transformations are written very well. Comic relief is brief and well-timed. There are twists. There are turns. There is a love triangle. There are cliffhangers that trap you into turning page after page.
I was left with one nagging, unanswered question. The significance of Buttercup the cat. My curiosity and the power of Google brought me to an insightful guest post on the subject (Warning! If you have not read the series, do not open the link, as it contains spoilers!). Read it here.
If you are 13 read the series. If you are 31 read the series. Hell, if you are 95 read the series.
But if you start book one, I dare you not to finish it in one night.
And if you need support, I’ll gladly be on the other end of your first “OMG!” text.