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I Am Number Four

March 1, 2011

I’m reading the book and my family saw the movie and liked it. It’s good so far, and I can’t wait to see some of the action scenes and how they translate to the big screen, not to mention the effects and character designs of the aliens.

Watch the trailer, or read the book synopsis if you don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s your typical YA si-fi novel, but I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s fast paced and fun, and I’m always looking for some absorbing action novel. But it’s reads more like James Paterson’s Maximum ride novels (which are fun but not meant to be taken too seriously. I mean come on, the bad guys are called Erasers.) than Michael Crichton’s books (more technical/scientific) or any of Orson Scott Card’s (which are more into the characters and rich in the history and culture of the future. If you haven’t read Ender’s game, you ought to. If you have, you ought to read the next one: Speaker for the dead.)

I’ve always loved action/adventure novels, but after my breakdown they’ve become even more irresistible. Aside from the obvious escapism, my favorite part of the novel always came when the main character inevidibly calls up the supporting character  for help. I’ll use the example from I Am Number Four as best as I can remember.

“Hello?”

“Hello,”

“Sam!”

“John? You sound like hell. Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not. Listen, I need your help. My dad is in trouble.”

And it always seemed to happen like that. There was a tangible problem, and always that one friend around to help. The steaks were high and everyone knew it. This appealed to me very much while my family was in denial of the fact I was mentally ill and I had lost most of my friends. It was always my favorite part of those books.

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