How I lost my connection to dystopian novels isn't something that I thought I could pinpoint to a specific time frame or event. However, months after the aftermath of my personal apocalypse, I realize there is probably a reason I clung to dystopian novels so desperately last year and now feel as though I can and want to read other genres.
A dystopia is a world where hope is needed to survive, and I needed hope to survive. Okay, maybe not survive physically like in the wilderness with bears, mountain lions, and geese (those geese omg!), but survive emotionally. Reading Divergent, Delirium, and Legend (not to mention the dozens of others I hoarded) taught me that I needed to keep my hope alive until things got better.