There’s a peculiar kind of joy that comes with burying your nose in a good book, especially when it’s fiction. One minute you’re minding your own business, and the next, you’re swept into a world that feels entirely yours. Over the years, books have become my escape, my sanctuary, and my excuse to ignore reality (and my email inbox and Teams messages ugh).

I am currently working on a creation of my own actually. It’s a pretty wild ride, crafting a whole world from a random thought on a snowy Tuesday afternoon at work, and populating it with characters who have the audacity to live rent-free in your mind. The process feels like a mixture of playing the God and babysitting a bunch of unruly toddlers who refuse to follow the plotlines you so meticulously planned out. fictional characters really do have minds of their own, And don’t even get me started on how you start to see them everywhere like when you’re at the grocery store, debating whether to splurge on that overpriced artisanal bread from St. Germain bakery, and suddenly you’re wondering what your protagonist would do. they’d probably just buy the bread with no hesitation. My protagonist definitely has better financial discipline than I do.

I stumbled on this on Pinterest and just had to share it, it was too true to not put it out here. It’s practically a public service announcement.

Anyway, you know where things get really chaotic? When directors step in with their shiny cameras and million dollar budgets and all of a sudden that delicate, magical universe that we construct in our heads is unceremoniously tossed into a blender with a half-baked script. There’s nothing quite like the power of a well-written book to make you feel as though you’re in the middle of a whole adventure, solving mysteries, or falling in love. But that immersion could be completely shattered when a beautifully crafted, beloved book is turned into a movie adaptation. Hollywood, bless their heart, has a knack for turning literary magic into… well, something a little less magical.

We’ve all been there haven’t we? Sitting in the movie hall with a bucket of popcorn, eagerly anticipating that iconic scene you’ve re-read a thousand times, only to realize that they either butchered it or cut it out entirely. Or worse, they’ve turned your favourite character into a complete disaster. No, I’m not bitter about Percy Jackson; why do you ask?

Now, I’ll be honest, not all book-to-movie adaptations are crimes against humanity. Take It Ends With Us a real gem, both as a book and on-screen. It managed to capture the raw emotion of the characters, the complexity of their relationships, and the heart-wrenching storylines in a way that felt faithful to the source material. A rare, beautiful thing, really. As a reader and writer, that’s all you ask for when your favorite book gets adapted: “Just don’t butcher it, please.” And somehow, they didn’t.

It Ends With Us is like the emotional rollercoaster you never signed up for but can’t get off of. One minute you’re swooning over Lily and Ryle’s picture-perfect romance, and the next, you’re emotionally wrecked, because oh wait, turns out love isn’t always dreamy. Hoover throws in all the feels teenage nostalgia with Atlas, intense heartbreak, and the gut-wrenching realization that sometimes, loving yourself means walking away from someone you love.

The movie brings this all to life with some serious tear-jerking moments, but let’s be real, watching Lily’s emotional growth while sobbing into a bowl of popcorn was somehow totally worth the $25 movie ticket and the $25 book. It was one of those rare times when the movie did justice to the book, and as a fan, I left the theater with that warm, fuzzy feeling of satisfaction. I wasn’t throwing popcorn at the screen in frustration, which, let’s be real, is rare when it comes to adaptations. And let’s not forget the iconic song My Tears Ricochet by the one and only Taylor Swift that just added to the WOW factor of the movie.

But then, there are adaptations like Fifty Shades of Grey. Good grief, talk about a missed opportunity. The book definitely had a certain energy that movie managed to completely flatten. What should have had an intense, smoldering romance turned into awkward interactions like the characters were reading scripts monotonously with all the passion of a waiter reciting the dosa and idli menu in a small South Indian restaurant. Fifty Shades had potential for steam, tension, and emotional depth. Instead, it gave us long, uncomfortable silences and a lot of, “Wait… is that supposed to be romantic?”

But you know what? We can’t really blame them for trying. Adaptations can be tricky. The beauty of a book is that it gives you the freedom to visualize everything just the way you want. Every reader builds their own version of the characters, the setting, the tone. So when a movie comes along It’s like suddenly that vision is dictated by someone else’s interpretation. Christian Grey looks like he’s got the emotional depth of a Ken doll, it’s disturbing, to say the least. We didn’t sign up for that version, thank you very much. Not to be bitter, It’s not that the story wasn’t there. It’s that it lost its spark in translation, like someone forgetting to add seasoning to a good pasta.

Let’s not focus completely on the bad. There are a few more gems in the world of adaptations. While It Ends With Us is a more recent success, others like The Lord of the Rings and The Hunger Games also managed to maintain the essence of their literary counterparts.

Despite all these atrocities against the original paperbacks. Why do we keep going back? Why do we subject ourselves to these excuses for literary adaptations? Hope, I guess. The desperate, often naive hope that one day someone will get it right. That they will respect the source material and nail the casting, and maybe, just maybe, keep the integrity of the original plot intact, please. Oh my gosh.

Cue the dramatic sighs. And until, that day comes, I’ll keep reading and writing, and keep getting disappointed every time Hollywood get’s it wrong. Because if there’s one thing every book lover knows, it’s that no matter how badly they screw up the adaptations, they can never take away the joy of getting lost in the pages, looking at a thousand different stories and perspectives, and feeling like a part of something truly extraordinary.

Now if I may be excused, dear readers, I have a date with my book and some chamomile tea. I need my characters to behave and that can only happen when I’m calm. So hopefully chamomile tea will help me in that department. And who knows? Maybe one day, when my own book becomes a movie, I’ll get to be the one sitting in the back row, popcorn in hand, ready to critique every misstep with the same energy as that of the disappointed drama class teacher at a school play.

Hey! A girl can dream.