I snagged this book for $0.50 from my library’s used book sale. I’d seen the title, but I hadn’t heard a thing about it. Given that it’s written by David Levithan, whose writing I thoroughly enjoyed in “Nick & Nora’s Infinite Playlist” and “Naomi & Ely’s No Kiss List,” (and that amazing price), I figured I couldn’t go wrong.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say the verse format in which it’s written didn’t make me choke a bit. I’ve never been a fan of poetry, but I decided to strap on my big-girl panties and climb outside of my comfort zone full of prose.
This book actually has a lot of “different” going for it. Along with the poetry, readers get 20 different narrators, loosely tied together by the laces that intertwine lives of acquaintances, neighbors, friends, siblings and classmates.
I’m a girl who loves nothing more than a single character I get to know through hundreds and hundreds (or even better, thousands and thousands) of pages, so I got a bit antsy when I figured out that I’d only be spending a few pages with each character.
Surprising enough, the reader does get to know each character fairly well, both through their own sections and through those of the people to which they’re connected. Some characters make slight cameos and some are the main subject of another’s section.
Overall, the book does an amazing job of linking such different people through something we all know similarly – possibilities.
I know I really enjoy a book when I find myself committing to memory (or at least grabbing markers to slip into pages for coming back to later) sentences or full paragraphs that truly speak to me. Sometimes it’s a lesson from the book, some sort of revelation that helps me understand life that much more. Sometimes it’s seeing my own feelings shoot back at me through someone else’s words. This book had no shortage of words I want to remember.
Up next: “Love Is The Higher Law,” by David Levithan
“The Hunger Games” takes place in a dystopian society, in a place that was once called North America. A world that should be difficult to imagine comes alive effortlessly. Suzanne Collins created a world and characters that, while entirely different from what we know, are vivid and realistic.
Katniss, our 16-year-old protagonist, volunteers to represent her district in The Hunger Games, the annual fight to the death created by the government to keep the fear alive among its citizens. The participants range in age from 12 to 18.
The concept of such violence as a regular part of life could be difficult to swallow, but because the book is written so well, the violence and the will to survive felt as average as the battle preparations for each Black Friday.
Don’t get me wrong. The violence is not something the characters poo-poo at. Not at all. It’s just a fact of life, one they must face and not waste time being horrified by.
The book ends with a MAJOR cliffhanger, and dammit, dammit, dammit, I’m currently No. 32 on the library’s wait list. I hope Santa brings me the second book, “Catching Fire.”
Let’s discuss worrying, boys and girls.
I think the tendency to worry more or less is dependent on each individual, but I also think outside factors play a fairly substantial role.
I’ve known many a pregnant woman who skip through their pregnancies worry-free.
Wait. Before you comment and say, “Nuh-uh! Everyone worries!” let me say I’m not talking about average daily worries. I’m talking about “Will I be pregnant tomorrow?” or “Will I carry this baby to term?” or “Will I carry this baby long enough for him/her to survive on his/her own?” -type worries.
Of course there’s always the Nervous Nelly types who will worry without personal cause (and base their worry on others or some doom-and-gloom news report). They’re special, and they’re not who I wonder about.
And of course worrying is a guaranteed part of motherhood. This fact is why I’m trying to work through my thoughts on worrying right now.
I worried about the safety of my pregnancy from, well, to be perfectly honest, I worried about the safety even before I was pregnant. Miscarriage rates are higher than average for those diagnosed with PCOS. And now, after experiencing a miscarriage, I fear I’ll battle with worry even more.
My point is I worried through what could have been days of blissful happiness. Yes, the worry was warranted, but did it do any good? Probably not. Did it do harm? Probably not. Would I have been happier without it? Sure.
I have a looping mental lecture going on right now, one in which I’m trying to convince myself that worrying isn’t worth it. No matter how much I worry, those fears can’t do anything but steal away happiness.
I’m jealous of the blissfully ignorant who are able to enjoy without fear and don’t have to work at being free from worry. Yeah, I said it.
I am quite the praying type and have faith that God has been there, is there and will be there to hold my hand and grant peace and serenity. I’m also the proactive type who believes God also expects us to do our part and not expect Him to do all the work (when we’re able to, that is).
I’m working extra hard on trying to get this mystery of life figured out before we get pregnant again and I drive myself crazy with worry, wasting away days when I could have been perfectly happy.
Wish me luck.
Disclaimer: This entry contains information regarding our adventures with trouble trying to conceive. Feel free to skip over if you wish to avoid too much information and thoughts regarding my reproductive parts. I won’t blame you. I’d rather skip this stuff, too.
Disclaimer: This entry contains information regarding our adventures with trouble trying to conceive. Feel free to skip over if you wish to avoid too much information regarding my reproductive parts. I won’t blame you. I’d rather skip this stuff, too.
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