Crying on Christmas Eve

Well much to no one's surprise, I have still not managed to finish Too Big To Fail. Seriously, this book is fucking huge. I'm beginning to feel demoralized about the whole thing, so to distract myself I spent the better part of this week reading the rest of the Hunger Games trilogy instead, which proved the right decision when I found myself seated mere rows away from a crying baby on the train ride home for Christmas. Somehow I don't think a book about finance would have managed to hold my attention the same way.

There's not a ton to say about the second and third books in the Hunger Games trilogy, since I don't wan to spoil anything, but they're equally awesome. In truth, I have spent these past few days on something of a mission with respect to this trilogy, singing its praises to anyone and everyone who will listen. So far I've convinced at least two friends, my sister, my aunt and potentially my mother (who I think just zones out when I make book recommendations). Plus all of you, my loyal readers. All two of you. 

There is one thing I will say about the Hunger Games books--reading them is emotionally exhausting. It's 1:30 a.m. on what is now technically Christmas morning and instead of curling up under the covers with a mug of hot chocolate, I find myself pacing my room wondering how we live in a society where people kill each other for money or war or really any reason at all. In fact at this point I think returning to Too Big to Fail will be a welcome reprieve -- I don't see myself shedding tears over commercial mortgage-backed securities.

THE FACTS: 
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TITLE: Catching Fire, Mockingjay
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AUTHOR: Suzanne Collins
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PAGES: 350-400 each
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