I don’t read young-adult fiction. It’s just so beneath me. I only read big, important books because I am so intellectual.

The Hunger Games? Yeah, I’ve heard of it. A modern gladiator tale about teenagers from a post-apocalyptic America pitted against one another in a fight to the death? Please. How pulpy can you get?

I definitely did not stay up way too late several nights in a row finishing it in an embarrassingly short amount of time because the grim, sinister plot was so gripping. There’s just no way I could find a tough-as-nails heroine like Katniss Everdeen compelling. The plotline about her taking her younger sister’s place in the fight is too gooey to really do anything for me emotionally – or it would be if I had read this book, which I haven’t.

I’ve heard it has Ray Bradbury-esque touches, like a “1984”-style government and genetically engineered creatures designed to do its nefarious bidding. That sounds so Sy-Fy Channel. And the whole part about Katniss not knowing whom she can trust, including her love interest Peeta Mellark and all his shifting loyalties – how juvenile! It isn’t like love stories and mystyeries like that have interested people since the beginning of the written word or anything.

Oh, there’s a movie adaptation coming out next month? No, I’m not excited to see that. Not at all.