The Hunger Games (aka You Have Got to be F*cking Kidding Me)

My friend, Mer: "I've been reading the Hunger Games trilogy. Amazing! I can't put it down! Katniss is bad-@ss!"

Me: "I've never heard of it." (which is very strange considering it is Harry Potter-big, including the movie out next month)

Mer: "Really?! Its like Survivor, a reality show on TV but they battle to the death. And it's kids - 12 to 18 year-olds."

Me: "You have got to be fucking kidding me, that's awful."

And trust me, it only gets more awful-er.

Don't get me wrong, Mer was right - it is definitely a book you'll find difficult to put down. If I didn't have a toddler I most likely would have finished it in a weekend. And if not for the hold-your-breath-while-on-the-edge-of-your-seat, non-stop action, you might be able to spare a moment or two to contemplate just how horrific and awful this story is. P.S. Mer later told me it was categorized as a Young Adult novel. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Maybe I am too aware of current events. Maybe this is one instance where my degree in Political Science is not a good thing, for I foresee the government depicted in The Hunger Games to be scarily right around the corner. Especially if a Republican is elected President instead of Obama or - I'll settle for - a Green Party candidate.

As all good stories do, this took place in post-apocalyptic America; or what used to be known as North America, but now is some creepy, freaky place that just makes me thing of dull silver medal. There is the Capitol, which is the equivalent of the Pharaoh's of Egypt - glimmering in wealth; whereas the outlining areas - in this case, Districts 1 through 12 - are poorer than poor. So under-fed and under-paid are they, Katniss and her friend, Gale, are forced to hunt beyond their fenced District to ensure their families survival.

But there was a point in time the Districts didn't feel so helpless, and it's because of their collective efforts that the Games even exist. SPOILER ALERT: the Games are their punishment; watching their children kill each other in cold blood is what they get as retribution. But you don't think of that because you're too busy concentrating and hoping Katniss survives. She's not very outspoken, is smaller than the other contestants, and comes from the poorest of the Districts; 12. She's not favored to win but rapidly becomes the favorite. The Hunger Games is truly an underdog story at it's best.

Suddenly, she just might have a chance at winning and, as the reader, you're constantly praising her cleverness, and her ability to manipulate a situation to her favor while I would just be sitting in the corner of the arena - an artificial environment created by the government - rocking back and forth blowing a whistle. In short, I probably would have been one of the first ones killed.

I was naive. As I read, I foolishly hoped that each of the contenders - 1 boy and 1 girl from each District - would collectively decide that this was a horrible practice and band together to defeat the government. Nope. In some Districts, children are training for the Games from the moment they can walk in the off-chance their name would be picked from the lottery system.

At it's core, The Hunger Games is a tale of survival; and knowing that belief in oneself is the only way said survival is going to happen. It's a bit dramatic for every-day life, but thank God it's not every-day life. Yet.

I was constantly surprised as I continued to read, but that didn't stop me from trying to predict where Suzanne Collins was going to take me next. I was shocked by the ending, and it left me wondering what on earth could happen in the next 2 books; a lot, apparently.

The general premise of the story confuses me. In our protest-happy nation (I was one of the few liberals adamantly against the Occupy movement), I didn't understand how the parents could stand by and just let this happen; just watch as their children died violent deaths hundreds of miles from their home. I had to keep telling myself it was fantasy. All of the characters' names are weird, so it has to be fantasy.

Only my friend, Mer, brought up an interesting point: things like this aren't new. Gladiators would fight to the death, and I'm pretty sure some people participate in ultimate cage fighting in some part of the world. We subject animals to it for our entertainment so this "fantasy" idea isn't that far of a stretch.

I wouldn't say I disliked it, but I wouldn't say I loved it, either. It was a story, it was interesting, it kept me entertained, guessing, and - most importantly - wanting more. Now that Katniss has surpassed even her own expectations, what could possibly be around the corner?

We'll find out in

Books For Free(ish)!!

Like any book-junkie, I have a lot of books. While I appreciate and like every book I read for what it is (minus that one I left in the airplane front pocket), I generally have no interest in re-reading anything besides The Catcher in the Rye and that is just so I'll get the Family Guy jokes. I love my collection but I realized that if I'm not going to read them, why should I prevent someone who hasn't?

I'm not charging for them, but ask that you send money for shipping; I'm no Rockefeller. I'm planning to also present the collection to my book club, then ultimately sell whatever is left at our garage sale this spring/summer. Just send me an e-mail at thelargetotelady@gmail.com

 The Secret Life of Bees, The Girl Who Played With Fire, Chelsea, Chelsea, Bang, Bang, Half Broke Horses, The Hour I First Believed, Sea Glass, Princess of the Midnight Ball, Cane River, The Pilot's Wife, Strange But True

 Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Left Behind, The Partner, The Gurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Mirror Image, Charming Lily

 The Devil Wears Prada (totally better than the movie), Dog Handling (sorry it's upside down), Sex and the City, Monkey Business, The Dominant Blonde, White Oleander, Bergdorf Blondes

 Danielle Steel's Crossings, Something about Irish Catholic Priests, A Streetcar Named Desire, Lovers & Dreamers (a complete trilogy of Nora Roberts novels), The Journal of Mortifying Moments, Faking It, The Bachelorette Party, Star, Notting Hell, Confessions of a Sociopathic Social Climber, The Washingtonienne

sTori Telling, Columbine, Marley and Me (sorry, my "Marley" got to it), Bergdorf Blondes (another, slightly more mangled, yet still readable, copy), Memories of a Geisha, Something else by Danielle Steel, The Shining, American Vertigo  

Confessions of an Ex-Girlfriend, LA Woman, In Her Shoes, The Givenche Code, The Sweetest Taboo, Slave to Fashion, Eat, Pray, Love, Confessions of a Drama Queen, The Weight of Water, Ralph's Party, The Curious Case of the Dog in the Night Time, Live! From New York, It's Lena Sharp!, Lisa Marie's Guide for the Perplexed, Running in Heels, The Thin Pink Line, The DaVinci Code, Dating Can be Deadly, Babyville

Jemima J

I haven't read a chick-lit since I entered what Cher's BFF so eloquently called my "post-adolescent, idealistic phase." They gave me hope that my life would become what I felt it was supposed to, thus I could relate to them. But once you've read one you've read them all. Jemima J, however, is the one that broke the mold.

Many chick-lit novels try too hard to be clever, quippy, and ironic, whereas Jane Green plays it cool and refined in Jemima J. A Brit who admittedly weighs about 100 pounds more than she should, Jemima is quiet, reserved, and has generally accepted that her body will stick with her forever. With a hopeless crush on her male colleague, and a general longing to become her female coworker, Jemima constantly finds herself turning to the only thing that's ever really committed to a relationship with her - food. Then - low and behold - Jemima discovers the answer to everything: the internet.

You never really consider the time in which a book was written until something as monumental and pivotal as the internet creeps into the story. Perhaps Ms. Green saw it coming, but the majority of laughs in the beginning came from Jemima, Ben, and Geraldine's first experience with the world wide web. Interestingly enough, it hadn't been around for very long and naked pictures could still be found. The only difference today is that most of the naked pictures are of our current politicians. But I digress....Written in 1999, I vaguely remember being in high school, learning of the internet, and finding internet chat rooms to be the only real interest, and apparently Jemima - or JJ, as she would now be called - felt the same way.

Deciding not to pass up the opportunity, JJ begins corresponding with Brad, the epitome of American-made, bleach-blond, buff California hunk. Of course his name would be Brad. She passes herself off as London's answer to the glamour girl without missing a beat since he does live across the pond, after all. Naturally, he wants to meet, so JJ heads for LaLa Land, (SPOILER!) only after becoming the gym-addicted, food-conservative American the rest of the world envisions us to be.

Besides grossly entertaining, funny, and charming, Jemima J teaches us how to be humble, accepting of ourselves, and accepting of others. And we realize that if we forget our own troubles for just a minute, we'd see everyone is busy battling their own desires, emotions, and conflicts. The back cover boasts an ending you won't see coming, and boy it's wasn't kidding; I was hooked until the absolute final page.

The only difficulty I found while reading this homage to the ugly ducklings of the world (which is everyone in some way or another) was the author's tendency to interject as a sort-of narrator instructing us how to feel about Jemima's situation. We find ourselves hopeful only to have our balloon busted by the author who feels the need to tell us fate is not working in JJ's favor. In fact, fate doesn't work in JJ's favor until the final page, and even then we learn fate only interjects when we're ready and have become the people we're supposed to be. It's a roller-coaster of a ride that teaches us life will always be a roller-coaster, no matter if you fix everything you've decided is "broken". As a quote from a classmate in my yearbook reads, "Even if the grass is greener on the other side, it is, essentially, just grass."

I borrowed Jemima J from my friend who pulled it from her book shelf, thrust it at me and said, "You HAVE to read this book." I love most books, but she was definitely right. You'll scarf this down in a weekend (it took me a week thanks to no lunch breaks at work and spending all of my time with a toddler), so make sure it is on your to-read list/in your tote/available at your local library as the one chick-lit you must read (Jennifer Weiner's Good In Bed is the other).

Princess of the Midnight Ball

General consensus around the book club was that we had reached our depressing literature quota. Like movies, I don't understand why everything produced for an audience needs to highly dramatize real-world events, like we need any more reminders of the dispicability of the human race. But off my soapbox I go because we broke from reading the next critically acclaimed novel to dig through the trenches of young-adult fantasy with Princess of the Midnight Ball. And I'll bet you thought Twilight and those Spooky Snackhouse books were the only young-adult fantasy novels.

It was a welcomed foray into fantasy that I don't always accept because the imagery can get a bit confusing; it's not a genre I read much of or even gravitate towards. Although I did find scenes hard to picture in my largely unimaginative brain, it was overall a lovely story that I think would translate beautifully on the big screen. At least then I wouldn't have to spend energy trying my damnest to picture everything.

Queen Maude died long ago but her legacy and - most importantly - her debts live on. She left behind the world's most beautiful garden with a team hired specifically to maintain it's flourish year-'round. She also left behind a dozen beautiful daughters responsible for paying the debt she was not able to clear.

Unable to bear children of natural means with the King, Queen Maude visits the King of the underworld, King Under Stone, to make him a deal. In return, she is blessed with 12 daughters in a dozen years, but they must dance for him and his courts' entertainment until dawn, never excused even for sickness or fatigue. The original deal has an end-date and, of course, a dark King of the underworld can always be counted on to keep his word.

Naturally, the 12 princess are sworn to secrecy, and enchantments throughout the castle keep anyone from finding out just why the princess' dancing slippers are worn through night after night. That is until a soldier-turned-gardener, seemingly unextraordinary, becomes extraordinary, and finds special ways to find out special secrets.

Aside from being a beautiful tale with equally beautiful imagery, Princess of the Midnight Ball also offers lessons in humanity and the benefit of being humble, nonjudgmental, and tolerant. It's a good lesson in Karma, and how a simple act of subconscious kindness might just save the lives of 12 princess. If I had one critique it is that it's a bit Harry-Potter-ish, which I don't necessarily mind since I'm sleazy for Ron Weasley.

It's a short read and something I wouldn't have minded reading aloud to my toddler. Totally worth hauling around in your tote. Or diaper bag if you just don't want to deal with both.