Mrs. Beckstead, I think I really have reason to hate you now

It seems to me that I can find no happy book. Everything I read makes me depressed. Everyone knows that to have a story you must have a conflict. In every good book the conflict is solved in some small or large way, either setting it up for a sequal or finshing the story completely. Every book I have read in the past couple of months has had bad endings that make me angry and sad. I just finished the third and final book of the Hunger Games series: Mockingjay. Oh baby, where do I begin? I think I hated it. Wait, yes I did. It was all over the place. My mom told me there was some serious controversy over it. Some said that they loved it and it was fantastic while others declared that it could have been a book from a different series; it was so far from the other two. I don't think it was nessecarily so far from the other two books as much as I hated the contents. There was so much gore and some many people died that didn't need to. And the guy who the main character ended up with made me very angry because I wanted her to be with the other person. But the way the author made it so she couldn't be with the other guy just enraged me further. I wouldn't say the other two books were cheerful but they certainly didn't have the darkness that this one had. I almost can't even explain all my frustrasion. So I'll stop now before I go on a book drunk rampage.