I'm pretty proud of the fact that until recently, I've successfully avoided reading any and all of the cult novels that have seemingly taken the world by storm. Harry Potter, Twilight, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - I haven't read any of them.
Worse than not reading them, I judged those who did. Almost with an air of superiority, whenever conversations about these books came up, or invitations to see the films about the novels were extended, I'd decline, walk right by, as if I was too advanced to engage in coversations about such meaningless books.
I mean, if so many people like it, it can't possibly be good, right?
I thought I was better than all of those people who had allowed themselve to fall prey to popular literary culture.
That is, until The Hunger Games.
This book has completely consumed my life over the last five days. I can't sleep, I forget to eat, I've put off things that really need to get done (like work projects) so that I can read it, and I fear it's only a matter of time before I begin finding my very own Katniss "Fire Girl" costume to go to the movie when it comes out on March 23, 2012 at select theaters.
Who's in? Looking for my Peeta.