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Suzanne Collins

Since 1991, Suzanne Collins has been busy writing for children’s television. She has worked on the staffs of several Nickelodeon shows, including the Emmy-nominated hit Clarissa Explains it All and The Mystery Files of Shelby Woo. For preschool viewers, she penned multiple stories for the Emmy-nominated Little Bear and Oswald. She also co-wrote the critically acclaimed Rankin/Bass Christmas special, Santa, Baby! Most recently she was the Head Writer for Scholastic Entertainment’s Clifford’s Puppy Days.

While working on a Kids WB show called Generation O! she met children’s author James Proimos, who talked her into giving children’s books a try.

Thinking one day about Alice in Wonderland, she was struck by how pastoral the setting must seem to kids who, like her own, lived in urban surroundings. In New York City, you’re much more likely to fall down a manhole than a rabbit hole and, if you do, you’re not going to find a tea party. What you might find...? Well, that’s the story of Gregor the Overlander, the first book in her five-part series, The Underland Chronicles. Suzanne also has a rhyming picture book illustrated by Mike Lester entitled When Charlie McButton Lost Power.

She currently lives in Connecticut with her family and a pair of feral kittens they adopted from their backyard.

The books she is most successful for in teenage eyes are The Hunger Games, Catching Fire and Mockingjay. These books have won several awards, including the GA Peach Award.


“This is what birds see. Only they're free and safe. The very opposite of me.”
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“I don't know how to say it exactly. Only...I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?' he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself. 'I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not.”
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“I remember everything about you," says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention.”
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“Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato," he says.“Then you shoot me," I say furiously, shoving the weapons back at him. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!" And as I say it, I know death right here, right now would be the easier of the two.”
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“If you die and i live there's no life for me back in District 12. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again.”
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“Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?""It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?”
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“for some reason Gale and Peeta do not coexist well in my thoughts.”
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“If I'm going to cry, now is the time. By morning, I'll be able to wash all the damage done by the tears from my face. But no tears come. I'm too tired or too numb to cry. The only thing I feel is a desire to be somewhere else. So I let the train rock me into oblivion.”
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“Then you shoot me,' I say furiously, shoving the weapons back at him. 'You shoot me and go home and live with it!' And as I say it, I know death right here, right now would be the easier of the two'You know I can't,' Peeta says, discarding the weapons. 'Fine, I'll go first anyways.' He leans down and rips the bandage off his leg, eliminating the final barrier between his blood and the earth.'No, you can't kill yourself,' I say. I'm on my knees desperately plastering the bandage back onto his wound.'Katniss,' he says. 'It's what I want.''You're not leaving me here alone,' I say. Because if he dies, I'll never go home, not really. I'll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out.”
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“The only indication of the passage of time lies in the heavens, the subtle shift of the moon. So Peeta begins pointing it out to me, insisting I acknowledge its progress and sometimes, for just a moment I feel a flicker of hope before the agony of the night engulfs me again.”
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“Obviously this person's a hazard. Stupid people are dangerous.”
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“I’m about to haul my packs into a tree to make camp when a silver parachute floats down and lands in front of me. A gift form a sponsor. But why now? I’ve been in fairly good shape with supplies. Maybe Haymitch’s noticed my despondency and is trying to cheer me up a bit. Or could it be something to help my ear? I open the parachute and find a small loaf of bread. It’s not the fine white of the Capitol stuff. It’s made of dark ration grain and shaped in a crescent. Sprinkled with seeds. I flashback to Peeta’s lesson on the various district breads in the Training Center. This bread came from District 11. I cautiously lift the still warm loaf. What must it have cost the people of District 11 who can’t even feed themselves? How many would’ve had to do without to scrape up a coin to put in the collection for this one loaf? It had been meant for Rue, surely. But instead of pulling the gift when she died, they’d authorized Haymitch to give it to me. As a thank-you? Or because, like me, they don’t like to let debts go unpaid? For whatever reason, this is a first. A district gift to a tribute who’s not your own. I lift my face and step into the last falling rays of sunlight. “My thanks to the people of District Eleven,” I say. I want them to know I know where it came from. That the full value of the gift has been recognized.”
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“I'm not good at talking about myself.”
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“Your only defense can be you were so madly in love you weren't responsible for your actions.”
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“A light was on in the kitchen. His mother sat at the kitchen table, as still as a statue. Her hands were clasped together, and she stared fixatedly at a small stain on the tablecloth. Gregor remembered seeing her that way so many nights after his dad had disappeared. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to scare her or shock her or ever give her any more pain.So, he stepped into the light of the kitchen and said the one thing he knew she wanted to hear most in the world."Hey, Mom. We're home.”
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“Vikus looked at Luxa and opened his arms. She stood, still frozen, staring at him as if he were a complete stranger."Luxa, it's your grandpa," said Gregor. It seemed like the best and most important thing to say at the moment. "It's your grandpa."Luxa blinked. A tiny tear formed at the corner of her eye. A battle took place on her face as she tried to stop the feelings rising up inside her.The feelings won, and to Gregor's great relief, she ran into Vikus's arms.”
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“In one horrible moment the last piece of the prophecy became clear.So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps,As life may be death and death life again reaps.He had to leap, and by his death, the others would live. That was it. That was what Sandwich had been trying to say all along, and by now he believed in Sandwich.He put on a final burst of speed, just like the coach taught him in track. He gave everything he had. In the last few steps before the canyon he felt a sharp pain in the back of his leg, and then the ground gave way under his feet.Gregor the Overlander leaped.”
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“A faint light burned in the pit revealing a furry creature hunched over a stone slab, fiddling with something. At first Gregor raised a warning hand. He thought it was a rat.Then the creature lifted his head and Gregor recognized what was left of his dad.”
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“I have not wept since the death of my parents," said Luxa quietly. "But I am thought to be unnatural in this respect.”
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“And then there was Tick. Brave little Tick, who had flown into the faces of an army of rats to save his baby sister. Tick - who never spoke much. Tick - who shared her food. Tick - who was after all just a roach. Just a roach who had given all the time she had left so that Boots could have more.Gregor pressed Boots's fingers against his lips and felt scalding tears begin to slide down his cheeks. He hadn't cried, not the whole time he'd been down here, and there had been plenty of bad stuff. But somehow Tick's sacrifice had crushed whatever thin shell remained between him and sorrow.”
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“There was no discussion between them; it was as if the bugs had worked out this whole scenario long ago. Temp put on a burst of speed for the end of the bridge, and Tick turned to face down the army of rats alone.”
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“As miserable as Gregor felt about being dumped with a rat, his heart ached for Vikus. He wanted to scream at Luxa, "Say something! Don't let your granpa fly off like this! Four of us aren't coming back!" But the words caught in his throat. Part of him wasn't ready to forgive Vikus for abandoning them, either."Fly you high, Gregor the Overlander," said Vikus.Gregor struggled with how to respond. Should he ignore Vikus? Let him know that none of them, not even an Overlander, could forgive him? Just as he had steeled himself against replying, Gregor thought of the last two years, seven months, and was it fifteen days now? There were so many things he wished he'd said to his dad when he'd had the chance. Things like how special it was when they went on the roof at night and tried to find the stars. Or how much he loved it when they took the subway out to the stadium to watch a baseball game. Or just that he felt lucky that out of all the people in the world, his dad was his dad.He didn't have room inside him for any more unspoken words. The bats were rising into the air. He only had a second. "Fly you high, Vikus!" he yelled. "Fly you high!"Vikus turned back, and Gregor could see tears shining on his cheeks. He lifted up a hand to Gregor in thanks.And then they were gone.”
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“What say you, Luxa?" said Vikus."What can I say, Vikus? Can I return to our people and tell them I withdrew from the quest when our survival hangs in the balance?" said Luxa bitterly."Of course you cannot, Luxa. This is why he times it so," said Henry."You could choose to - " started Vikus."I could choose! I could choose!" retorted Luxa. " Do not offer me a choice when you know none exits!" She and Henry turned their backs on Vikus.”
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“The rat turned his glowing eyes on him, and Gregor was shocked by what he saw there. The intelligence, the deadliness, and, most surprisingly, the pain. This rat was not like Fangor and Shed. He was much more complicated and much more dangerous. For the first time in the Underland, Gregor felt completely out of his league. If he fought this rat, he wouldn't stand a change. He would lose. He would be dead.”
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“He felt around desperately for a weapon. What did he have? Diapers? Cookies? Oh, why hadn't they given him a sword? He was the stupid warrior, wasn't he? His fingers dug in the leather bag and closed around the root beer can. Root beer! He yanked out the can shaking it with all his might. "Attack! Attack!" he yelled.”
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“You asked why the rate hate Overlanders so deeply. It is because they know one will be the warrior of the prophecy," said Vikus."Oh, I see," said Gregor. "So, when's he coming?"Vikus fixed his eyes on Gregor. "I believe he is already here.”
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“Beware, Underlanders, time hangs by a thread.The hunters are hunted, white water runs red.The Gnawers will strike to extinguish the rest.The hope of the hopeless resides in a quest.An Overland warrior, a son of the sun,May bring us back light, he may bring us back none.But gather your neighbors and follow his callOr rats will most surely devour us all.Two over, two under, of royal descent,Two flyers, two crawlers, two spinners assent.One gnawer beside and one lost up ahead.And eight will be left when we count up the dead.The last who will die must decide where he stands.The fate of the eight is contained in his hands.So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps,As life may be death and death life again reaps.”
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“What did Finnick Odair want?” he asks.I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation of Finnick. “He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets,” I say in my best seductive voice.Peeta laughs. “Ugh. Not really.”“Really,” I say. “I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling.”
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“Orange? Like Effie's hair?" I say."A bit more muted," he says. "More like sunset.”
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“Here began countless days of hunting and snaring, fishing and gathering, roaming together through the woods, unloading our thoughts while we filled our game bags. This was the doorway to both sustenance and sanity. And we were each other's key.”
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“My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They're the ones we naturally remember the best, after all.”
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“My face breaks into a huge smile and i start walking in Peeta's direction. Then, as if i can't stand it another second, I start running.He catches me and spins me around and then he slips-he still isn't entirely in command of his artificial leg-and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that's where we have our first kiss in months.It's full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I'm not alone.As badly as I've hurt him, he won't expose me in front of the cameras. Won't condemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He's still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry. Instead I pull him to his feet, tuck my glove through the crook of his arm, and merrily pull him on our way.”
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“I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.”
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“But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.”
Suzanne Collins
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“I never see these things coming. They happen too fast. One second you're proposing an escape plan and the next...”
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“If my holding out those berries was an act of temporary insanity, then those people will embrace insanity too.”
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“What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in.”
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“If you'd been taken by the Capital and hijacked and then tried to kill Peeta, is this the way he would be treating you?”
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“Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes, and when again they open, the sun will rise.”
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“Whatever the opposite of fine is, that's what I am.”
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“Really? What did you cost me again? I ask.A lot of trouble. Don't worry. You'll get it all back,he says.”
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“Scores only matter if they’re very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones.”
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“Something keeps me moving forward, though. A lifetime of watching the Hunger Games lets me know that certain areas of the arena are rigged for certain attacks. And that if I can just get away from this section, I might be able to move out of reach of the launchers. I might also then fall straight into a pit of vipers, but I can't worry about that now.”
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“We follow instructions to my destination, a chamber for my preparation.”
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“There's always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I'm dead!" I can hear my voice rising in anger. "But you won't! You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows.”
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“Oh, well. At least my blood is flowing.”
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“People deal with me, but they are genuinely fond of Prim. Maybe there will be enough fondness to keep her alive.”
Suzanne Collins
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“Peeta looks me right in the eye and gives my hand what I think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it's just a nervous spasm.”
Suzanne Collins
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“Just because people starve in a book, doesn't mean that we will starve in the future....”
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“But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim’s place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.”
Suzanne Collins
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