Wednesday, July 13, 2011

If reading were an addiction . . .

I've picked up a disease of some sort. It's related to a trilogy called The Hunger Games. Oddly, those who really know me know that I love to read. I'm a self-proclaimed nerd and wear that badge (aka My Glasses)proudly. And while I've always had my favorites: Julia Alvarez, Barbara Kingsolver, Lucy Maud Montgomery, etc., I've always lived safely within the realm of fiction . . . until Friday.

I picked up The Hunger Games merely out of pure curiosity. I've heard that others loved the books, but knew nothing about their content. Suddenly I found myself flung into the future, into a world of Science Fiction. I was out of my box and had overstepped a boundary bigger than the Grand Canyon itself. In five days, I finished The Hunger Games trilogy--yes, that is three books in five days. (I played hooky with my bedtime and suffered for it, too.) And suddenly I've found half a dozen books within Science Fiction that I'd love to read.

This disease of mine is profound. What have I been missing?

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