4 Books to Read Before the Movie

As much as I know and understand the movie adaptions are their own entity and they don’t always follow the books they’re based on, I enjoy reading and like to come up with my own ideas of what characters are like before seeing the movie versions of them. I also find that knowing the story beforehand helps me to get excited about a movie.

It will come as no surprise that I am, and have always been, a read-the-book-before-seeing-the-movie girl. Probably always will be. There’s a reason I haven’t gotten into Game of Thrones yet. So here are 4 books (and a bonus) that I want to read before the movie comes out.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed
Book HERE | Trailer HERE
I’ve wanted to read this book for a long time, and with the movie coming out soon, it feels less like and eventuality and more like a high-pressure need. I love adventure stories. I love the feeling of being on my own. I love stories about other women who have gone on adventures alone. I know I’m going to like this book.

If I Stay by Gayle Forman
Book HERE | Trailer HERE
I saw the trailer for this movie when I went to see The Fault in Our Stars on opening weekend. I cried my way through the trailer, as I cry my way through many things. I seem to like things that will make me cry, so this should be a good exercise.

The Maze Runner by James Dashner
Book HERE | Trailer HERE
Another instance of seeing the trailer and wanting to read the book first. Also, since a friend of mine found out I haven’t read this, she’s been telling to. Highly recommended. Admittedly, this one isn’t as high on the priority list as the other two, but I want to give it a shot.

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
Book HERE | Trailer HERE
This book has been critically acclaimed and has been on my radar for a little while, but it wasn’t until I saw the trailer that it moved onto my to-read list. Mystery, suspense, you’ve got me hooked. Besides, it’s about time I start reading “grown-up” books. I guess.

Bonus:
The Giver by Lois Lowrey
Book HERE | Trailer HERE
Okay, so this one is more of a re-read than a to-read. I read this book as assigned reading in middle school and loved it. In many ways, this book is the precursor to many, many YA dystopian novels. The Giver is a book that I imagine changes and grows with you and I’m looking forward to reading it again with new eyes. In regards to the movie: I’m nervous, but curious.

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I wish I could understand. I am a perpetually positive person. I wind up looking on the bright side of everything, and I wouldn’t want to change my attitude for the world. This outlook is a good fit for me and I am a good fit for it. But even so, I wish I could understand the sadness and emptiness that comes with depression.

Because when someone I know confesses to me their own emptiness I never know what to say or where to even begin. I just sit there and wind up saying the only thing I can think of over and over. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you are having to go through this. I’m sorry that I can’t do anything. I’m just so sorry.

My own cock-eyed optimism pushes away any depression I may have. My faith laughs in the face of doubting Thomas questions. I’ve broken bones and friendships and habits and promises, but I never seem to break myself.

Perhaps admitting this is folly. Hoping for understanding and empathy could wind me in a predicament from which I can draw empathy for the rest of my life. But I don’t think the world works like that. The world just works. And it continues on regardless.

I’m sorry Mr. Williams. I’m sorry that this was the way you went. I’m sorry that I have no other words to offer. I’m so sorry.

Call someone: 1-800-273-TALK
Chat online: www.imalive.com

Talk to someone. I may not have the words, but talking helps. Tell someone you trust. Talk to a professional. Ask a friend to come with if it helps. Don’t give in. You can pull through. I believe in you.

Bittersweet Memories

I’m terrible at taking pictures when I’m with people. This weekend I went driving with a friend, no pictures. My parents were visiting for the weekend and I have no proof that they were here. I talked with my sister on the phone and got ready for dinner and discussed the merits of air conditioning in Southern California. We went to eat at a restaurant and I didn’t even take a picture of the dessert. I’m a terrible instagramer. Breakfast, church, and a softball game and the only pictures I posed for live in other people’s phones.

The world of technology and social media demands photographic evidence. Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest (which I’m not even on), and Facebook all want me to upload pictures of my day, my night, my weekend for my friends to see and provide commentary on.

Honestly, I just forget.

I leave my phone at home or forget that my DSLR is in my bag. My battery dies. I’m just plain bad at taking pictures.

And I don’t care.

Instead of pictures I have memories. This weekend I combed through a box of things to see what I wanted and what to send back to San Francisco with my mom. I remember reading the New York Times while my dad made his way through the Wall Street Journal. I remember a delicious dinner and a beautiful breakfast. Introducing my parents to the world that I live in now and some of the people in it.

It’s so strange to me to be emotional about seeing them. They live a short 6 hours away. I spent 2 and a half years going back and forth to Chicago and almost never feeling homesick. I guess now it’s real. I live here now. My job is here, my church is here, my everything is here. And I wont be going back.

Talk about bittersweet.