A few days ago I began to read, actually listen to Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild, the story of Chistopher McCandless's two-year "walk about" that ended in his death in 1992. I started it because a friend recommended it. I had no idea that they were making it into a movie. Last night as we were driving back from Taco Bell I saw the title on one of the local movie theater's placard.
I don't know. Nosing around the movie's web site makes me suspicious. It looks like they've taken some liberties with the story. And Sean Penn wrote the screenplay and directed the movie. Aach.
Interestingly, just after I finished The Kite Runner a few weeks ago I saw that it too was about to be released as a movie. I'm not sure I connected with The Kite Runner. It required me to suspend disbelief at too many key junctures. After a while, I just finished it because I don't like to start a book and then set it aside unless it's really bad. The Kite Runner is not really bad. It's not really even bad. Just not my kind of novel. I haven't looked, but I suspect it was one of Oprah's picks. It's that kind of book. Maybe the movie will be better.