Oh my gosh. I had such a day of reading yesterday! My husband and I were sitting in the San Antonio airport, waiting to board the plane back home (we arrived two hours early like any well-behaved travelers). After checking our combined bag (weighing in at 49 pounds, a mere one pound under the alloted weight), searching for a Cinnabon we never found, and ordering ourselves some Starbucks, I found myself sitting in a semi-tattered chair, watching the sunshine. Sunshine is not usually a novelty to me. But five cloudy days in San Antonio made the only sunny day (of course, the one on which we were leaving) something new.
After my interest in the sunshine had been exhausted, I pulled out a copy of The Hunger Games that had been waiting patiently inside my carry-on. I had started the book a few weeks earlier, and only read a chapter or so. I hadn’t yet been hooked. I kept reading the same page, then putting it aside. But, in my airport state, the novel had a captive audience.
Within a few pages beyond where I had previously read, I found myself disgusted with the Capitol, made a prediction of who would be chosen in the reaping, and watched that prediction crumble. In fact, I gasped aloud as I learned who was chosen. And that’s all it took. I was hooked.
I read the entire book yesterday.
Obviously, I went to Target and bought Catching Fire, the second in the trilogy.
Because that’s the kind of reader I am. I am that reader who gets so entranced in what I’m reading, so invested in the characters, that I have to find out what happens next to them. And I can’t help it. I don’t think there’s anyway I could have NOT gone and purchased that book today. I had to start it immediately.
I only hope that my books will do the same thing for others. Feed the addiction.