I know I’m late jumping on the bandwagon, but I just finished the Hunger Games trilogy. If you don’t know what that is, you’ve probably been living under a rock. (Easy to find out; just check any social media outlet or entertainment website.)
All I can say is: damn. I don’t usually get sucked into a series of books like that (Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files series is the last one that did it for me), but this one certainly did it to me. Sharp, tight writing, lightning-fast pace, and characters that with whom, while I may not have agreed with all of their choices or actions, I certainly empathized.
Buddy Rella and I saw the movie over its opening weekend, and it was excellent, too. There were many small things that had been changed along with some surprises (Woody Harrelson? Really??), but for the most part it stayed true to the book. I read yesterday that all three books are going to be made into films, with the last book split into two movies (a la Harry Potter and Twilight). It’ll be interesting to see how the entire story translates to the big screen. I can only hope the remaining films are as good.
Of course, this entire thing leaves me with a roiling case of writer envy (alternating between “I want to write like that!” and “Why couldn’t I think of an idea like that??”). There aren’t many authors out there who do that to me, but when it happens it strikes deep. *sigh* Ah, well. Practice makes perfect, isn’t that what they say?