I just finished Mockingjay, (I know, I know about time, right? But hey I've been a little busy moving my family across the Pacific Ocean and all).
Anyways, I am currently suffering that post-partem depression that sometimes hangs over me when I finish a great book.
I'm not sure what it is exactly, whether it's the fact that I feel like I've become part of their story and then suddenly I am left all alone, my new friends having deserted me?
Or that is it simply that the story is over?
Especially those books that you have been anticipating for so long-- I mean I had Mockingjay pre-ordered like 4 months in advance! So you wait so long and then finally it's out, you buy it, you devour it (in like 2 days) and then it's all over... and then what?
Is it some dissatisfaction with the ending?
No, I don't think so.
I think quite possibly it is just assimilating back into the real world, where things aren't quite so adventuresome that put a pallor on my mood.
Extracting myself from the adventure...
This is why I try so hard to pace myself, relish the words, get lost in the experience.
But then I find myself curled up on my couch at 2 in the morning, realizing I blew my wad, and it's over.
It's put me in funk, given me a case of The Blahs (which is a hard thing to do when you live in Paradise).
This feeling is a sure sign that the author has done their job, and very well. After all why else would I feel so beat up, and damaged, and left all alone?
Ah... the glories of a great book!