So, I've been quiet on the blog front this last week.
And this is why . . .
I am no sci-fi or fantasy fan, I'm definitely not in the teenage target market and I'm squirmish when it comes to war.
But I'm hooked.
I feel like a giddy 12 year old who hides under the quiltcover with their torch at all hours of the night, desperate to read just one more chapter . . . maybe another, just a few more pages, nearly finished!
Comparisons to Twilight or Harry Potter are unfair - perhaps all they have in common is the fact they're a cultural phenomenon - but their stories, themes and concepts are worlds apart.
I grew up in the Tomorrow When The War Began generation and The Hunger Games reminds me of that series. Brave female heroine, confused love, loyalty and friendship. Oh, and war.
In a matter of a week, I've read the first book, seen the movie and am now halfway through the second book. It's all consuming. I'm giving up my usual Sunrise viewing in the morning to stay in bed that bit longer and read a new chapter.
I even stopped reading a Nicholas Sparks lovey dovey novel in favour of The Games.
What has become of me?! I'll be wearing cargo pants soon. Ergh.
It's not a movie - or book - you feel good about, you don't really enjoy it - in fact, I cried a number of times throughout the movie - but it pulls you in and gets you thinking. It's clever, it's action-packed and it's confronting.
Okay, enough of rediscovering my teenage self (hello Tencel jeans and Canterbury rugby tops!). I'll be back to posting all things bright and happy next week. It's about time for a recipe methinks. And some more pink.
Until then . . . may the odds be ever in your favour.