I was right when I set out to list which books I wanted to read during this break to include the sequels to The Hunger Games. Everything I had heard about the books were that they were riveting, addicting, and fast-paced. Somehow, I have continued to underestimate them. I won't make that mistake again. I guess I just get suspicious and mistrustful of the quality of books. This is in no way a stab at modern writers or a statement in support of the Good Old Days or anything (because who am I, at age 22, to know anything about the good old days of anything except perhaps classic Nickelodeon lineups?) Anyway... Catching Fire was surprising to me for many reasons. One, that it didn't seem to go the way I was thinking it would, that I was even more confused by the end of it (imagine if books gave you answers instead of answering the old questions! Crazy, right?) and lastly, that it was even more addicting than the first. Mom and Mike can attest to the fact that, immediately upon finishing it, I leapt up out of my seat and ran to grab the next, and last, book of the trilogy.
Likelihood of rereading: 100% (There is simply too much I must have missed the first time round!)
Likelihood of recommending it to others: 100% (though I would warn that addiction to the series will probably result in some weird dreams.)
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