Rarely do I ever go see a movie after I’ve read the book it was based on, especially if I liked the book. I know the movie will leave half of the plot out, or change the plot so much I will hardly recognize it. The first time I saw Gone with the Wind, I was angry. I wanted every single tidbit of the book, every detail. Where were Scarlett’s other two children? And what about her first husband, Charles? Before I ever saw it, I’d read the book about ten times. I could practically recite it. How dare they change it so much? A couple of years ago a friend and I, both Jodi Picoult fans, went to see My Sister’s Keeper. If I had not read the book, I would have been impressed, but I was too busy remembering what actually happened in the book to enjoy what was happening in the movie. It was hardly the same story at all.
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